After Ellie's tirade on emotional shit, I sought out the one source of reasonable relationship among the twelve of us who lived in the house.

"I need help." I cornered Zach in the kitchen, where he stood and leaned against the counters next to Griff.

At eight pm, both held half-eaten bowls of cereal in their hands and wore the same post-workout T-shirts and sweats I did. Ordinarily I would've laughed at how Griff's bowl was three times larger or given them both shit for the sugary crap they slurped up. But today, I needed advice from the house's stable-relationship guy.

More like completely pussy-whipped but I'm desperate at this point.

"Tie her down," Griff answered with a smirk that suggested he knew more than I'd kept to myself.

The fact I'd been in that exact position two weekends ago surprisingly pulled a smile on my lips. Normally I blew off Griff's useless comments but indulged him, "Why?"

"So she'll stay." He shrugged. "Tie her down to a sofa for movie night."

The idea that I curled up on a sofa with Harper, my arm around her for a house movie night, paused my real question. Just as quickly, I shook that crazy idea out of my head.

"Fuck, even I know that's a bad idea." Jackson's head popped up from the fridge, where he took out a carton of eggs, a large block of cheese, and a container of yogurt. "Nevaeh would scream bloody murder if I tied her ass down."

"When doesn't she," Griff grumbled to himself, which earned him a chuckle from me and quiet snort from Zach.

"She sure does." Jackson ignored Griff's comment, flashed me a full mouth of white teeth, then turned his attention to the stove. "But I love that screamer."

"So..." Zach put his empty bowl in the sink and redirected his eyes to me. "Girl problems, Jake?"

"Is it that obvious?" I lifted my eyebrows at him but all three heads turned in my direction. Even Griff stopped eating, with his giant spoon hovered halfway up to his mouth.

Guess it is.

"Bro," Griff deadpanned and stuffed in his spoon. In between bites, he stated the obvious, "She arrived and left in pajamas."

"Do we not have any privacy?" I grumbled more to myself because the reason I needed Zach's help was how public his and Sophia's arguments were.

Unlike Jax and Nevaeh's scream fests that turned into broken furniture sex, Zach and Sophia's 'heated discussions' weren't as loud but they were the house's golden couple. With one tight swallow, I choked down my dignity and looked at Zach.

The second time's admission stung deeper, "Like I said, I need help."

"As someone who's also in a relationship..." Jackson turned away from the eggs he cracked into a fry pan on the stove and palmed his free hand onto his chest. "I'm offended you're not asking me."

Jackson and Nevaeh had been together the longest, since their freshman year. While they had more makeup sex than anyone I personally knew, I also hadn't ever seen Jackson actually apologize before.

Griff, Zach, and I exchanged a silent, 'Who's going to tell him?' look. When Griff and Zach's eyes both looked at me, one of my hands rubbed over the back of my neck. "Jax... Seriously? I need apology advice."

"Oh," his face returned to neutral. "Yeah, better ask Zach.."

At least he owns up to it.

Fortunately, Zach understood enough that he stacked his hands close together, then pulled them apart as he spoke. "Physical restraint aside, from a scale of 'just in case she might be pissed' to 'fucked beyond repair,' what are we dealing with here?"

"More like accidentally tossed out important shit to her," I confessed. "After I apologized for inadvertently breaking her heart."

"Fuck, you apologized? To who? Your broken heart castaway list is longer than Santa's." Griff spat a few cereal bites into his bowl with that useless comment. His eyes stretched wider and he smiled to himself. "Hope it's the ghost who leaves every time with your balls."

"Her name is Harper," I corrected him with a frown.

"Carajo. Already, Jake?" Zach cursed in Spanish. Before I answered, his eyebrows lifted high and wrinkled his forehead. "Bro, it's been what? A month? Two? You're really shit at relationships."

He's like Griff two-point-oh.

"Never mind." I groaned and turned my back on this peanut gallery. "Forget I asked."

I'll just buy her a replacement dildo and hide out here until she acknowledges my existence again.

"Hold the butthurt," Zach's hand clamped on my shoulder. For the first time I'd walked into the kitchen, sincerity hung in his dark brown eyes. "Sorry, you're just never this serious. I couldn't resist. She's the video girl, isn't she?"

"Fuck." One of my palms covered my eyes and I exhaled loudly. "Yes, the one who fucking tore me up the last time she rejected me. Happy?"

"Not really," he muttered quietly, then paused as his eyes studied me like he searched for an answer to my question.

I gave him the understatement of the year, "I might've pushed her a bit too far when I took her out Sunday."

And threw her dildo collection into a dumpster.

Not to mention the weight of the shit situation with Scarlett.

While I was beyond grateful at how Harper had taken my explanation of a shit situation, as I'd expected, she was largely quiet on the ride back to UCLA. She leaned over and kissed me goodbye, but I'd noticed a pattern in her behavior. Whenever I pushed her until she opened up, she absorbed the weighted conversation topics without much reaction, went right to sex mode for either a break or relief I wasn't sure, then slipped into silent mode.

Then we technically don't talk about it again.

The last move I wanted was that I overstepped my bounds, so I respected Ellie's opinion that Harper needed space until she reached out again.

"Here..." Zach thumbed over his phone, then handed it over to me. "I keep this list handy but don't ask me to admit how many items I've had to use before."

"Twenty-seven grand romantic gestures." I exhaled sharply out my nose at the title and lifted my eyes to his, which looked dead serious. "Seriously?"

"Laugh, joke, tease all you want," he replied in a quiet, steady voice. "But it's helped me. Sophia's tiny but dios mío, her Latina temper is no joke."

As Jackson interrupted with a 'Sure about that?' challenge, my eyes skimmed over the first few items. Every suggestion seemed like a bad fit unless I wanted my body parts dismembered and randomly buried in one of those underground tunnels Harper and I had toured.

Surprise her with concert tickets.

Take her for a weekend road trip.

I paused and considered that option.

She does have those weirdass sleeping bags in her trunk but outdoors, bugs, and lack of running water doesn't feel like Harper.

Bring her favorite drink... So she can toss it in my face.

Cook for her. Since that went over so well last time.

Buy her something she's been wanting for a while. Fuck, she has a black AmEx already.

Pay for her to have a spa day... I could do that. There's a little money left from Mom or maybe they could go together next time she's here.

While I was only a basic manscaper, Mom sure ate that spa day shit up. Harper's love of massages had been the only way I'd gotten closer to being back on her tolerated side... before she'd tossed my ass out.

Mid-air, my thumb paused when I saw the date on the top of Zach's phone.

Fuck, too late since her birthday is tomorrow.

Especially how things ended last weekend, I can't do nothing.

After one slight downward shift back to Zach's article, my eyes closed at the fourteenth item on the list.

Tell her how you feel about her.

A tightness coiled in my chest at that suggestion.

The problem was, I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about Harper. My attraction to her was ridiculously off the charts, to an unacceptable level. I obviously still felt guilty for her dildos being thrown out. Ellie had made some valid points, although I wasn't ready to unpack all that emotional shit yet.

Blatantly obvious, Harper was the best sexual partner I'd had. She won that title by a mudslide, to the point where I practically ran dick-first back at any sliver of a chance that I was lucky enough for another opportunity with her.

Past the dick-blowing sex, as a person, Harper invoked just about every emotional imaginable within me. With one suggestive look or ego-slamming comment, she got under my skin and frustrated me like no one else. She was crass, stubborn, hard-headed, completely detached emotionally, and unapologetically did whatever the fuck she wanted.

And she's completely wedged herself into my daily thoughts.

Yet, I always felt a weird, unspoken sense of comfort around her. She hated the aspects of my life that needed improvement, like how I treated others, but she'd never judged me for my actions and bad decisions. She was repulsed more than impressed by my football accomplishments but that added weight to her rarely given compliments.

Despite her brutal, biting sarcasm that I actually preferred over coy, suggestive comments or fangirls gushing over me, Harper's actions revealed more than most words she said.

She flew Mom in for my games.

She recorded Brit's confession.

She told me about Burke and Kieran.

Oh, fuck... I hate when Ellie's right.

My chest squeezed tighter, until my heart thumped harder under the pressure. I palmed one hand over the area and rubbed absently. A light-headed sensation throbbed into my forehead as the kitchen walls blurred and squeezed in on me.

"Fuck," I rasped out and handed Zach his phone back.

"Bro," one of his hands steadied my chest, which heaved with ragged, uneven breaths. "You okay? Look like you've seen a -"

"Don't say it," I warned him about the word 'ghost.'

Even while my face felt like the blood drained out of it, I forced out a tight smile. A shaky, "Thanks for your... help," left my mouth. I handed Zach his phone and took a couple of short, quick steps back.

A single, solitary thought looped on repeat through my mind and sent a chill down the back of my neck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Again with the feelings!?

Thankfully, a hand clamped down on my shoulder. The contact jolted me out of my thoughts, I turned my chin, and met Evan's blue eyes.

"Don't worry," he offered in a cool, confident tone. "I've got a better idea. Let's go."

Griff's elbow jammed into my left rib. "Still sure about this?"

Before I answered 'no,' Evan chirped up, "Best idea ever."

After just one eavesdropped conversation, Evan told me I was in shit deeper than when Harper stood in an actual dumpster. He volunteered what seemed like a good idea, which now in reality probably wasn't, that I replaced some of Harper's lost toys.

So, in a moment of weakness mixed with desperation and stupidity, I climbed into a car with Zach, Griff, and Evan. Twenty minutes later, we arrived at a sex store, where I was completely out of my element but Evan was as cool as a cucumber.

"It was your idea." I narrowed my eyes at the back of his head as his hands pushed into the glass doors at Adam and Eve, an adult store. "Don't tell me you have a membership here, bro."

I should've known, he was way too cocky with that suggestion and knew straight how to get here. I'm surprised he doesn't have his own parking spot.

With absolutely zero assurance, Evan flashed me a wide, toothy grin as I entered the store behind him. "Trust me bro, I've got your dick."

My palm met my forehead at his shit choice of words. "No... just no."

At first glance, with the gray hardwood floors, red walls, metal racks, and cylindrical wood shelves, the small interior building looked like any retail store. Closer inspection showed those floors led to rows of more sex-related items than I knew existed, the clothing racks were covered with lingerie, costumes, and underwear, and the 'jewelry' case housed butt plugs and nipple clamp necklaces.

"Adorable." Evan pointed to a plug with a fluffy, red bunny tail on the end.

"Fuck, there's edible stuff?" Griff stopped and latched onto a display case of what I expected from him here, items that partners ate off each other. "I'm sold, bro."

My hand met my forehead again, this time with a small amount of heat that lifted in my cheeks.

Fuck, I should've come alone.

...Wrong words, Jake.

At the impassive stare I shot Griff between my fingers, he laughed and pointed at the shelf on my left. "Look, they even have stuff for London."

"I hardly think..." I paused, reached up, and pulled down a boxed Deep Throat Pocket Pal. "Drake needs this."

The masturbation sleeve's flesh color, molded mouth, and puckered lips looked frighteningly similar to a prop I expected from Aliens but I just chuckled and set it back in place. As I did, my elbow hit the nearest shelf, which tumbled a few boxes of Fleshlube fire warming lubricant onto the floor.

"Nice reflexes." Griff snorted at me. "You should get one, you've got the bluest balls this week."

"Yeah, I'm... going over to the vanilla stuff," Zach mumbled quietly. While I assumed he meant the sexy clothes, in reality he stopped at vanilla scented body wax candles and hummed quietly.

My eyes closed under the throbs of a threatened headache.

Definitely should've come by myself.

"Oh fuck, I've heard about these." Evan's excited voice flipped my eyes open.

His blue eyes widened and he pulled up what looked like a small, packaged torture device off a neatly stacked pyramid on the butt plug counters. A three-inch, purple cylinder had a black on button on one side, spikes around it, and a light purple ring attached on one side. Three metal balls hung from the light purple ring, which was also spiked.

"The hell is that?" I asked since it looked like a cross between a latex dream catcher without the string woven part and a windchime.

"It's the Triple Ball," a female voice spoke up next to us. With a red-nailed hand, a girl with 'Delilah' on her nametag reached over and grabbed the toy from Evan and pointed to the various parts. "Cock ring with a tight shaft grip, vibrations from the bullet, and swinging steel balls you'll both feel... Sorry, but I'm not sure you boys could handle it."

My 'are we that obvious' died on my tongue when I saw Griff held up and fucking giggled at candy nipple tassels.

"Oh, I can handle." Evan dragged his eyes up the poor girl's appearance, which included a tight black corset that offered a decent enough rack my teammate drooled over, black leather skirt, and fishnet stockings. Delilah's bright blue eyes, lined with heavy makeup, blinked up at Evan from under her thick, black bangs and she shook her head when he ran his tongue gently between his lips and asked, "Can you?"

"Better question is what can't I handle," she retorted in a dry voice and set the cock ring back on the counter display. "Can I help you guys find something? Because if you're just here bored as shit -"

Evan sold me out with one hand slapped on my shoulder. "This guy needs some serious help."

"Fuck off." I shoved his hand off me, glared at Evan, and swept a hand over the counters. "How about you do your shopping over here... And I'll go over, uhh... not here."

My comment only earned Delilah another grin from Evan. "I'm good."

A few black strands of her hair fell across her pale-skinned forehead as her eyes lifted up to mine and flashed with amusement. "What did you do?"

"I..." One of my hands raked through my hair then rubbed the back of my neck. "Accidentally threw out three-quarters of her dildo stash."

"Woah, and you're still standing? Dude." Her red lips parted and jaw dropped. "You're lucky she didn't grab a strap on and peg your ass to a wall."

"Can you please help me," I asked as politely as possible. I wasn't above begging, just hadn't reached that level.

Feels like I'm just about as close as I can get to it though.

"Yeah." Delilah nodded and flashed me a polite smile, probably relieved that I was actually here with the intentions that I bought shit. "We just got in some new products, towards the back wall behind the BDSM aisle. This way, boys."

As Evan and I trailed behind her, his eyes dropped down to her ass while mine roamed around the store. When we passed through the women's clothing section, I paused because some of the shit was hardcore with leather and chainmail, but other options looked... nice.

My eyes rested on a black lace corset with matching bottoms. They weren't underwear but black see-through boy-shorts with a dip near the navel and lace edge.

"Those are more comfortable than they look," Delilah's voice spoke up near my left shoulder. "Even though I'd assume you're a hopeless case, getting her a sexy outfit couldn't hurt. I doubt you'd complain if she wore that."

I sure wouldn't.

"Do you know her measurements?"

"She's... five-ten," I mumbled as the image of Harper dressed in this getup flooded my mind more than her body's size. "Thirty-eight double-D bra but I don't know the rest of her."

"Not surprised, but it's okay." She reached into the rack and pulled out one that sat halfway back, then handed it to me. "With the lace up front, this is adjustable as long as it fits her breasts."

The shiny material felt soft against the pads of my fingers, with some internal structure that held its curved shape. By the interest that swelled between my legs, my cock agreed but my brain felt overwhelmed.

Fuck, I am out of my league.

A quick glance around showed my 'support entourage' was beyond the point of no help. Griff browsed through the edible underwear section like a kid in a candy store. He'd grabbed a pair in nearly every color, more than I knew existed, and hugged them tightly.

Zach sniffed a few candles like he was in fucking Bath and Body Works. After each sniff, he snapped a picture, texted Sophia I assumed, then moved onto the next option.

Last, purple cock ring in hand, Evan smirked at Delilah and headed straight for the handcuffs and restraints wall.

"Best not to second-guess yourself," she chided me about the lingerie set that looked nicer the more I realized it wasn't edible or hardcore. "At least not before we get through the dildos."

"Fine." I tucked the garment under my elbow. "Lead the way."

"So," she drawled over her shoulder and stopped at four walls shelf displays of rainbow-colored dicks of all shapes, sizes, and appearance that ranged from abstract forms to pretty realistic cocks. "Depending on how experienced she is with toys -"

"If you have a grand master level, then that's probably her," I admitted quietly as my eyes took in the ridiculously impressive options that I had no idea existed. "She started with twenty-eight and is down to uhh, seven or eight I think."

I hadn't actually counted the number of dildos Harper had thrown at me, for obvious reasons I ducked.

"How are you even walking normally right now... Don't answer that. What kind of budget are you looking at? We just got these new hentai models." She grabbed a bright pink and dark purple one that reminded me of Harper's octopus tentacle one. "They're hand-painted, chemical-free, but the suction cups need a little care to clean. I don't have any personal experience but they get good reviews."

"She... had one like that." I nodded and thumbed my hand over the plastic-covered glass. The weight of the toy in my hand felt like I gripped a boulder and I swallowed against the dryness that crept up my throat.

"We also have options with vibrations, thrusts, and multiple zone stimulation. Is she into any of that?" Delilah pointed at what I best described as a black cactus. At the frown that tensed my forehead, she pointed to one prong with connected circular shapes. "Anal beads for back door play."

"And the rabbit ears?" I blurted out with my eyes on the other prong.

"Clit stimulation." Her hand swept upwards. "They get more expensive the higher up towards the ceiling, basically for options like remote access or -"

Meaning I could charge up Harper any time I wanted? I had no idea that was a... possibility.

My pulse thundered in my ears and the blood drained from my cheeks. I must've worn a completely freaked out look because the salesgirl patted my upper arm softly and took the tentacle out of my hand.

"It can be a lot to take in. You look like you're going to hit the floor, so I think we should take a step back," Delilah offered in a quiet, soothing voice. "Let's start with the realistic ones. These look and feel like a real dick, with veins, balls, and the coronal ridge."

I drew in a slow, deep breath and nodded tightly. Her slim, pale hand reached over and pulled up the most realistic-looking, fake cock I'd ever seen. "If you hold this, it should feel like your own dick." Her eyes dropped down between my legs. "Give or take an inch."

My lower lip rolled under as I hesitated but took the eight-incher she extended to me. It was soft, like rubbery skin, but covered with realistic divots, veins, dimples on the balls, even -

"That's a dual density design." She smiled when I fondled the fucker with a few palm squeezes. "This one has a soft outer cover but a firm inner core. A silicon lube is injected in between the layers, so it's got an equal amount of firmness and flexibility."

That's... freaky realistic.

"She has that one," I pointed the dick in my hand at one I knew she had, since she'd slapped me in the face with it. Twice.

"That helps." Delilah nodded and pointed at the other option. "The one you're holding is basically an upgrade over that model and retails for ninety-six dollars. The All American Whopper, another eight inch one above it, is one of our best sellers. Basically, it's cheaper but also a bit stiffer."

Holy fuck. Harper did say this shit's expensive.

"Woah," I mumbled. "Do you have a student or pathetic boyfriend discount?"

"Adorable." She snorted softly and palmed her hips. "If you buy three, then I can offer a twenty percent discount." Her eyes lifted to the back of Evan's head in the next aisle over. "Separately, not between the both of you."

"And anything that one eats -" She pointed an index finger at Griff, who still roamed the edible clothes display with every box clutched in his arms. His mouth chewed a piece of something that crunched quietly. "Has to be bought at full-price."

"Deal," he called out between bites. "Fucking delicious, Delilah."

I closed my eyes briefly, looked down at the girl who was vastly underpaid for her patience with us, and replied earnestly, "Thank you. I'll take this upgraded one. She... also had a glass one she lost, then one of those, uhh, things." I pointed to the octopus wall. "I trust your judgment."

Fortunately, Delilah helped me find feasible options for two more replacements. While I wasn't sure the length or width of the ones Harper had lost in the dumpster, I got her ones slightly larger than the average sizes available in the stock.

Even with a discount and neatly wrapped up packages, my gut clenched hard when I saw the hit to my college-student budgeted wallet. "Thanks," I grunted out quietly and swiped my debit card.

"Honestly..." Delilah's blue eyes softened as they looked up at me from behind the register. "I'm impressed. Most guys get the smaller models, like they're threatened by a nonexistent competition."

"I'm threatened enough by her," I admitted with a low laugh.

Her eyes sparkled. "I assure you, these aren't replacement dicks, just enhancements. Read the instructions I included and you'll have some amazing foreplay moments."

Read instructions, check.

"You all good?" Evan's blonde-haired head poked up between us.

"I hope so," I admitted with a sigh.

My eyes shifted between the suggestive 'get lost' look he threw me and the smile he gave Delilah. This time though, her lips pulled into a suggestive smile when he held up a black leather banana hammock and pointed at the dressing rooms. "Little help?"

I can't take these guys anywhere.

The drive back from the adult toy store was oddly quiet, except for quiet chewing sounds while Griff ate half of a pair of edible underwear. Evan returned with more purchases than me, a smugass smirk, and Delilah's number. With a sprinter's speed, Zach and his candles disappeared to Sophia's apartment.

Totally whipped.

And clearly Griff doesn't understand the edible clothing assignment.

After I stowed my purchases in my bedroom, I got heaps of unsolicited advice tossed at me from every guy in the house who hadn't come with us but heard about our shopping trip. While I appreciated their support and how much they strangely liked Harper, their suggestions that ranged from volunteering for a flash-mob public apology to wooing Harper off her feet left me with a monstrous headache and short fuse.

They raise a fair point. She doesn't react well to surprises.

A glance down at my phone, full of one-sided and unread text messages to Harper, was the only motivation I needed.

Not giving me any choice firecracker, see you tomorrow.