"Kieran hates me because..." I swallowed against the tightness that choked my throat. "Because I slept with two of his girlfriends."

My eyes dropped down to where my hands rested on the dinner table, where my fingers interlocked and clenched tightly together. "It was wrong but I didn't know they were at the time."

"Both times," Harper shot back in a flat voice edged with skepticism and raised her eyebrows. Even though her face glowed from the bulbs strung over the restaurant's outdoor terrace like a criss-crossed canopy of lights, I still caught when the same disbelief appeared in her eyes. "Doesn't sound like a coincidence."

"Yeah," I mumbled as my shoulders dropped. "Came from the fact I didn't give a fuck who I slept with for... a while."

"A while," Harper practically snorted the words out. From where her palms cupped her chin, she looked at me like none of her believed me. Her voice was direct but lacked judgment as she pressed, "Let's be honest. Years, Jake."

"Semesters, but yeah..." I wasn't at all comfortable with this conversation topic but other than how she prodded me for the truth, Harper held back her judgment.

Despite her usual outward display of disgust or how she roasted my ass with sarcastic digs or back-handed comments, she hadn't ever truly judged me on my past hookups.

Yet. We'll see what she says when she finds out about Scarlett.

"Scarlett, as she'd introduced herself to me, was one of my randoms during my first year at USC," I admitted quietly and clasped my hands tightly on the table. "At our week four party of the season, she was all over me like white on rice."

Even as a benchwarmer who only played on the Trojans' practice field, I still attracted enough solicitations that I never worked for them.

Certainly never chased another girl, let alone to another school's campus.

While I glossed over the details in my recap, I still remembered them clearly because I hadn't drunk a drop of alcohol before we met. She'd arrived early at the party, when the house was mostly filled with friends or girlfriends of guys on the team.

From the moment she'd stepped into the football house, her eyes found me and her feet followed. From where I'd sat on a sofa, she'd pounced on my lap and dry-humped me like a personal lap dance. My cock appreciated her efforts, so we went to my bedroom.

"And you just ate that white rice shit up." Harper's hardened voice cut through my memory.

My eyes closed for a moment, but I opened them and looked straight at her so she knew I told the truth. "Back then, I wasn't one who passed up a sure score. So yeah, we slept together."

Scarlett was short, with long, chestnut brown hair, decent tits, and a round ass that offered enough grab in each of my hands while I topped her from the bottom. Overall, she was a decent enough lay even though she made me do all the work.

"Back then," Harper muttered more to herself than me, like she wasn't at all convinced I was any different now, three years later. When my mouth opened in protest, she waved a hand quickly. "Go on."

"Details aside, she'd enjoyed herself as much as I did." I took a deep breath. "Or so I thought."

Afterwards though, I moved her off my lap and she sat in my bed with tears in her eyes. Like the arrogant ass I was, I just stood up and grunted my appreciation for the release. Without a look back, I tossed her discarded shirt at her, thanked her, and said she needed to leave.

"Instead, she sat on the edge of my bed, clutched her shirt into her chest, and sobbed garbled words about cheating." Both my hands raked over my hair. "I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about."

Worse than the random fuck and chuck, I hadn't paid attention to the specific words Scarlett whispered while I dressed myself.

And I certainly couldn't have cared less that she was crying.

"And you didn't care, so you kicked her out," Harper pressed quietly. When I nodded, she surprised me with just a silent shift back in her seat. Her eyes held the same hardened look, like she studied me with interest, and she waved her hand again.

My eyes closed away from the attentive look on Harper's face. I still saw myself, two years younger, as I stood at my open bedroom door with a stupid grin on my face and chest puffed up proudly at my easy conquest.

"Don't worry," I'd assured Scarlett. "I'm not attached. Stay as long as you need to collect yourself but be gone by the time I get back or I'll walk you out."

If I could go back in time, then I'd kick my own ass here after I'm done kicking fourteen-year-old Jake's ass for what I did to Harper.

"I left for a few drinks in the kitchen. By the time I stumbled back into my room, Scarlett was gone, along with one of my T-shirts that she'd taken as a souvenir." Furious at her lies and games, I set my bedroom locks and never changed that policy since.

"The next day..." I swallowed hard because the recap hurt just as much as the experience had at the time, but pushed on, "I found out that, while I'd gotten drunk in our kitchen that night, Scarlett went back to her UCLA dorm room and overdosed on Fentanyl. She was found, face down in a mess of her own bodily fluids, by her frantic boyfriend."

"Meade," Harper muttered quietly, then cursed quietly when I nodded.

"Kieran rushed her to Good Samaritan Hospital, where she recovered and told him everything. Once she was stable and back at UCLA a few days later, he confronted me. Turns out her name wasn't even Scarlett. While I was shocked, I offered the truth from my side. I... told him everything."

Back then I'd been so self-absorbed in all USC-related aspects of my life, that conversation was the first time I'd even seen Kieran that semester.

And it was awful.

My best friend's disappointed face, his slumped shoulders, even the tears in his eyes resurfaced from where I'd never forgotten them. I opened my eyes and confessed to Harper, "He wasn't angry, just stressed out and frustrated at the shitty situation."

"But she used you," she replied in a calm, even tone that I appreciated, even though more than three years had passed. "And you told the truth, I hope."

"I did. Thankfully, she confessed that she'd gone to USC as a bet from her friends, lied to me, then took my shirt as evidence. Kieran understandably wasn't happy when I confirmed that was my USC football shirt."

I paused for a moment, then took a deep breath. Kieran accepted my apology but, in hindsight, that was the first crack in our relationship.

"The worst part was my reaction afterwards," I admitted as a pit of discomfort formed in my stomach. "I treated the whole incident as an attention grab and never acknowledged it again. In my mind, the incident was unfortunate, but I hadn't acted in any other way than what she both expected and wanted. I was angry and felt, ironically, taken advantage of."

My head shook at my arrogance and stupidity. While I'd never thought of myself as a victim in the situation, I firmly believed she wasn't either.

Harper sat quietly by the time I recapped the awful story. She pressed her lips so tightly shut that a white line appeared between them. Her eyes shifted back and forth between each of mine as her brain processed what I said. The rest of her sat perfectly still and she stayed like that for the painful minutes of silence that followed my conclusion.

The longer I waited for her reaction, my palms got damper and hips squirmed in my seat. My pulse thundered in my ears for what felt like an eternity.

Fuck, this is awkward.

Finally, her lips parted, the tip of her tongue flicked out, and wet them. A gray tone cast over her eyes by the time she finally said, "So you... Think she got what she deserved?"

"What?" My mouth dropped open for a few seconds, then I snapped it shut and shook my head. "No. Fuck, no. But all I focused on was that she accepted a bet from her friends that she could score with me."

"And you more than happily obliged." Her eyes filled with a disappointment that stung harder the longer I saw it. "I'm not going to lecture you about stupidass, selfish, dick-driver choices, but not your brightest move Jake."

Glad to know that's not her idea of a lecture.

My shoulders lifted slightly, which did nothing against the wall of guilt lodged in my chest. "At the time, she wanted it too."

"Makes the fact you apologized to me even more monumental, huh?" she deadpanned. "And Bambi?"

"Brit?" My lips twitched at her name reference. "She came onto me at a summer resort, where I was doing a middle school football camp. I was drunk at the bar on my night off when she told me she and Kieran had broken up."

Harper gaped at me like I was the idiot that I was. "And you just believed her."

"I really didn't know they were still together..." My fist tightened as I remembered Harper's recorded confession, which so far still hadn't surfaced into any tangible revenge plot.

"I hadn't seen Kieran over the summer..." For now, I more than deserved to sit here as Harper's verbal punching bag. Warmth lifted into my cheeks when I lamely mumbled, "But yeah, she was... another mistake."

Harper's eyes narrowed and she spat out harshly, "You're really just a sucker for tits, ass, and mistakes, aren't you."

"Jealous?" I tossed back teasingly but her reaction showed she definitely didn't take it that way.

"No, Jake." Her eyes stared straight into mine. "It doesn't bother me that you've slept with so many girls."

My smile faded. "Feel like there's a but coming."

"Yes, and it's as fat as yours." Her lips twitched up at the corners, then stilled back to neutral. "It bothers me that you so willingly slept with so many of them without much thought."

Harper's one word sank inside me. I sat back slightly in my seat since, for once, she kept her 'have some standards' manta to herself but I sure felt it. The judgmental words were practically written all over her face by the way her lips pursed and eyes darkened. My defensive alarms fired off at the incoming verbal assault I knew I deserved, but wasn't fully prepared for.

She's one to talk though.

"And I could point out that you chase warm cocks that you toss aside once you're done with them," I retorted with a tone that came out sharper than I'd intended. Right when my mouth opened for an apology, Harper's eyes rolled and then met mine again.

"No argument here, but at least I have a screening process." Her mouth twitched again, this time into something that almost resembled a smile before she took a long sip of her wine. "I'd say at least I have standards but looking at you, apparently they're rock-bottom in the dick barrel at this point in my life."

"I saw that," I teased. "What?"

"Nah, it's just... weird." She stared down at her glass and swirled it absently in her fingers. "I'd sworn to hate you all these years but... I just... don't. Not as much as I should, especially given what you just told me."

"Fair enough." I leaned back in my seat and studied her stone silent expression. "I deserve that, firecracker."

Her eyes flipped up and glared at me harsher than how she'd looked at me when I'd told her about Scarlett. "I hate that dumbass nickname."

"Sorry, it's stuck." My shoulder lifted up and dropped. "You're the only one I've called by a nickname, other than Ellie, if that makes you feel better."

"I'd be surprised if you remembered any of the names of girls you've railed," she added in a tone soaked with bitterness. "Lucky for you, I'm not petty enough that I ask you to assure me I'm any different from the rest of your reject pile."

Fuck, she is though.

Her words flooded hundreds of reasons why she was different into my mind, the same reasons that I stupidly came back to her, over and over. Surprisingly, the qualities I admired in Harper weren't all sexual. "Harper -"

"And don't read into that either. Most days my vagina is the only part of me that likes you..." She leaned back into her seat. "Also, I won't remind you how fucking insane or desperate I am to even be breathing the same air space with you again. And according to more UCLA players than Kieran, apparently I'm supposed to fuck and chuck you."

While her insane or desperate assumption stung my ego, a hearty laugh erupted from inside me. If I knew anything about Harper, then it was she did whatever the fuck she wanted and not what anyone else told her to do.

Unfortunately, she probably shut down any compliment or reassurance I wanted to give her. So instead, I closed my hand over hers again, leaned forwards, and stared straight into her eyes. "I'll return your vagina's sentiments tonight then."

"Dirty talk at dinner, huh?" Her eyes brightened, as I held her personal interest for the first time in this conversation.

Figures. This girl.

"You want to go there? Fine." I leaned back in my seat, folded my hands across my lap, and ignored the twitch of excitement between my legs at this topic. "What's your favorite position?"

"Huh..." She stared straight at me for probably just thirty seconds, but it felt like an hour.

Her gaze pushed a slight discomfort in me, so I reached over and broke our eye contact with a sip of my water. Condensation had formed on the glass and I absently pushed a droplet away with my thumb. Once I looked back at her, a small smile played on her lips.

"Explain that smile." My eyes dropped to her full, shiny, pink lips as I considered the possibilities of what I wanted to do with them tonight.

Unfortunately for me but fortunately for Harper, the waiter interrupted us. After our identical plates of food steamed up amazing smells between us, I looked at her to answer the question.

She shifted in her seat slightly, then answered, "At the risk of severely inflating your ego, would you believe me if I said no one's asked me that before?"

I paused as the weight of her words sunk in. By reflex, the corners of my mouth curled upwards and my next words slipped out, "Consider it another first between us."

Her expression immediately shifted into a scowl, before she muttered, "I wish you weren't so many of my firsts."

"I don't." Maybe my water was laced, but my mouth diarrhea had gotten away from me.

I can't even blame it on alcohol.

Another quick glance across the table told me my brutal honesty was pulled out by the beautiful blonde across the table from me, who hadn't judged me at all for the awful admission I'd dumped on her during our date.

If it wasn't Harper's looks that drew all eyes towards her in a crowded room, then it was her unabashed confidence. There were only three words I could ever say that she couldn't handle.

Get a grip, Jake. She barely tolerates you.

I chugged half of my remaining water before I reminded her, "You didn't answer my question."

"Reverse cowgirl." Her gaze locked on mine and her lips curled upwards into a smirk.

Typical Harper. Normal topics like family or feelings make her uncomfortable, sex positions she doesn't bat an eye.

We'd done that position before and I knew exactly why it was her favorite. The view of her ass wrapped around my cock as she rode up and down in complete control physically without the added inconvenience of personal eye contact screamed Harper.

Wonder why she didn't do it during her ice capades but I was glad she didn't.

The view of Harper as she'd slammed up and down on my cock, still dressed in my jersey, had broken my patience. I needed my hands on her.

And I would've broken the damn bed if she hadn't untied me.

My stomach tightened when she added, "But I reserve the right to change that opinion if something else comes along. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered... nah."

"What," I pressed because she smiled like she held an inside secret.

Her eyes sparkled suggestively and I nearly dropped my utensils when she answered, "Vertical sixty-nine."

"You mean..." my voice faded as I mentally pictured the positioning. For a visual, Harper clapped her palms together, fingers pointed at the opposite palm's heel, then shifted her hands so one set of fingers pointed straight up and the other down.

Fuck that... would take some upper body strength.

I must've sat like a dumbfounded idiot while she silently ate like she hadn't just suggested that. The mental image of the last time I'd seen her in the normal position threatened to blur my thoughts with a cloud of lust.

Our last time at the cabin.

Worshiping Harper physically that weekend was my biggest challenge sleeping with a girl because she'd been insatiable. But I'd seen her damn list of sexual activities she wanted from me and set a minimum standards challenge that I fucked her until she barely walked.

With a quick flip back through the highlight reel, I distinctly remembered she came six times the night we trashed the cabin's main living room. "What's the most number of orgasms you've had in one round?"

The corners of her mouth tightened and her smirk faded. Her eyes shifted away from me again and she muttered, "I don't know."

"I don't believe you," I pushed for the answer I already knew.

Her eyes hide from under her thick lashes. Even under the dim bar lighting, I saw a small tint of pink flushed over her cheeks as suddenly cutting up both her mushroom appetizer and steak became the most interesting task she'd ever performed.

Got you, beautiful.

A chuckle escaped my lips before I worked over my own food, completely filled with satisfaction. I was never one short of confidence, but I knew fully well when I pushed her tolerance limit with, "Six, right? No, seven."

"Like I said," was the now irritated mumbled response before she emptied her wine glass. "I don't remember. I'd ask why you're now so cocky but think we both know the answer to that, asshole."

My confidence soared with her indirect admission. With a small bit of steak on my fork, I leaned forward and assured her in a low voice, "Now that I know I'm competing with myself, challenge accepted."

"Competition?" She finally looked at me right when I popped the moist, juicy bite in my mouth, but her dry, biting tone hadn't changed when she reminded me, "You swore me to exclusivity."

I shot back with a smirk. "And you act like you get no enjoyment."

"We both know physical enjoyment is the only reason I'm suffering through... this bullshit." Her fork waved between us and stabbed it hard into a mushroom cap piece.

"Fair enough." I slid out of my seat, stepped next to her, and reached for her free hand. She looked up at me, wide-eyed and for a split second, innocent. In a move I hoped wouldn't get me junk punched, one hand reached out and I stroked my index finger's knuckle over the soft outline of her cheek.

"Let's go."

"Go?" She blinked blankly at me but, surprisingly, didn't flinch away from my touch this time. "We're not going to eat?"

"We'll take it to go," I promised. "Besides, after telling me all that, we both know the only thing I want to eat tonight is you."

A small twinge pulled in my chest at the relief that our date was over spread across her face. I knew years of resistance weren't washed out by two dates, I had no choice but appreciated how she had opened up.

No matter how slow and painful the process is, I don't have a choice.

With all things Harper, I have to take what she's willing to give.

After we got back into my car, I drove back to her dorm at UCLA. We sat silently while the smell of our dinner filled the quiet space between us. Once she realized we weren't headed to my house, her body stiffened in her seat and she turned towards me.

"Just stopping to pick up a few things," I assured her.

Based on the doubtful look she gave me, any sliver of trust I'd built up had completely evaporated. Her voice sounded entirely distrustful when she asked, "What things?"

I simply threw her a wink. "Your dildos."

Her head shook a few times, which flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. "Then why the fuck do I need you?"

"You don't have to pick between me and them." I leaned over and looked at her with as much intensity as I gathered inside. "When you can have both."

Harper fell silent but the slight dilation in her pupils gave her curiosity and interest away like always. I wasn't one for toys in the bedroom because frankly I didn't need them, but had plans for Harper's.

"Which ones?" Her blonde eyebrows raised.

With one upward flinch of my mouth, I went right for the bold approach, "All of them."