I set my pizza down and pick up my water glass, nervous. “After everything that went down in college, I always wondered if I would have been able to recover faster if I’d taken better care of myself.”

Her eyes soften as a blanket of seriousness drapes over us. “Rogan, you were a machine—”

“No. I wasn’t. I drank, I ate shitty food, and I didn’t ice like I should have. I got lazy my sophomore year, and it showed. It was like I won the starting position and gave up.”

“You worked so hard, trained so much.”

“Doesn’t matter. I could have done more. It’s always been one of my biggest unanswered questions. Now, I take such good care, so I never have to worry about that.” I lift up my pizza and take another bite. “Today doesn’t count,” I say, mouth full.

“Nor does the other when you had ice cream?” She lifts a brow in my direction.

“Keeping tabs on me, Sanders?”

“No, just pointing out that you don’t have to be so strict; you’re allowed to have moments.”

“Moments with you.” She shyly smiles and wipes her mouth with her napkin. I can see the wheels turning in her head, so before she can defuse the repartee we have going on, I ask, “Do you still have your list?”

“My . . .” She draws a blank. “My wish list?”

“Yeah, the one you started back in high school. You had things on there like first kiss, touch a whale, and what was it . . . see Ford Blakely’s penis?”

“Shh,” she hushes me, looking around. “He lives here.”

“I know,” I whisper, leaning forward. “He issued me a speeding ticket a month ago.”

“Did he really?” Harper smirks, looking a little too happy.

“Yeah, he did. Then he shook my hand and thanked me for giving his mom a deal on rent.”

She throws back her head and lets out a loud laugh. “He did not.”

“Yup, the guy shows no favorites in this town, not even his mom’s charitable landlord.”

“I can’t believe he gave you a ticket. How fast were you going?”

“Thirty-two in a twenty-five.” I drag my hand over my face. “Fucking brutal.”

“That’s not even bad.”

“Tell me about it.” I take a sip of my water. “But back to wanting to see his penis. Can you clarify that for me?”

That particular entry on her high school wish list never bothered me per se, but I always wondered why she never took it off.

“I can tell you’re never going to let this go.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” She takes a bite of her crust. “I heard it was rather large, and I just wanted to see for myself.”

“Why did you need to see a large penis when you had one at your disposal whenever you wanted?”

“I knew that was coming.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “How was I supposed to know you were big? I’d only ever seen yours.”

Don’t believe for a second that I didn’t hear the past tense in that statement. It would be beyond unfair of me to wish she’d been celibate since we broke up, but the mere thought of her with another man sends a bolt of pure, white-hot anger straight up my spine.

Tamping down my annoyance, I say, “Well, just picture my penis when you think of Ford. There, you can cross it off your list.”

“Why? Have you seen his penis?”

“I’ve seen the penis of every guy I grew up with. That’s what happens in the locker room. And yeah, dude has a dick. But I don’t see why all the girls in school were fumbling over themselves to see it. I think it started with Annie Akerman. I swear I heard her talking about Ford’s penis to at least a dozen different people and how she couldn’t fit it in her mouth.”

“Yes.” Harper taps the table. “That’s exactly what I heard. I remember thinking if she couldn’t fit her mouth over it, then how big are we talking?”

I roll my eyes. “Have you ever looked at Annie’s mouth? It’s baby size, fucking weird. She can barely bite into an apple with that thing. Ford’s big, but not that big.”

With a heavy sigh, Harper gives me a sad smile. “And there go all my thoughts about what kind of heat our local law enforcement is packing.”

“You interested?”

She twists her drink on the table. “You know, just keeping my options open.”

“Well, I’m protective of Ford, so in order to go out with him, you’re going to have to pass a few tests first.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Yup. Vigorous tests. Tests so well thought out and difficult that you should probably not even try.”

“Uh-huh.” A loose strand of hair falls over her hazel eyes, and she pushes it behind her ear. “How convenient.”

“Just like he protects us, he needs protecting too, Harper.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That seems to be a common retort with you.”

“It’s true; you’re just absurd.”

I play with an unused fork on the table. “But absurd can be fun.”

“Unfortunately, I know it can be.”

Rogan: Friday, let’s meet at the manor to go over filming plans. Does that work?

Harper: I gave you this number for emergencies.

Rogan: This is an emergency. I want to make sure you have it in your schedule.

Harper: We decided on this when you dropped me off yesterday.

Rogan: You’re forgetful.

Harper: I am not!

Rogan: That’s so cute. You’re forgetting that you’re forgetful.

Harper: Give me one example.

Rogan: How about five?

Harper: I’d like to see you list five.

Rogan: Prom corsage, left it in the fridge. Forgetting your backpack at the manor. Unable to remember Kylie Parsons name and calling her Kaylie every time you saw her. Losing your sunglasses, freaking out, searching for an hour, finding them on your head. And not to mention the number of times you forgot condoms.

Harper: Hey, condoms are your responsibility. Your dick, not mine. Plus, I went on birth control pretty quickly.

Rogan: But not at first, and when I asked you to pick up some condoms because I wanted to fuck you at least three times before morning and you forgot but remembered Neosporin . . . that’s kind of hard to forget.

Harper: You’d just bitten my neck like a freaking vampire! I didn’t want it to leave a mark.

Rogan: Your fault. You greeted me in my room, naked, with chocolate syrup dripped all over your body.

Harper: So spontaneity is a punishable offense now?

Rogan: It sure was when I was caught with my hand down your pants in the locker room.

Harper: I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face so red.

Rogan: You turned purple.

Harper: I did not! You cried while your coach berated you.

Rogan: I did not fucking cry. The only thing that cried that day was my dick, for not being able to sink deep inside of you.

Harper: This conversation has gotten out of hand.

Rogan: You started it.

Harper: It seems like you don’t like to take the blame for things, Rogan.

Rogan: Oh, believe me, I know when to take the blame and I acknowledge when I fuck up . . . big time.

Harper: You make it seem like you’re referring to something that we don’t talk about.

Rogan: I think those rules have been thrown out the window at this point.

Harper: Because you can’t seem to follow them.

Rogan: You were lucky you got an hour out of me. Sorry to tell you this, Harp, but when it comes to us, there are no rules.

Harper: And that’s why I’m keeping my distance.

Rogan: Because you’re scared?

Harper: Terrified. More than you’ll ever know.

Rogan: Do you know what terrifies me?

Harper: Do I want to know?

Rogan: You tell me.

Harper: I might regret saying this, but . . . I want to know.

Rogan: What keeps me sleepless at night, what wakes me in a cold sweat is the possibility of never being able to feel you in my arms again.

Harper: I was right. I didn’t want to know.

Rogan: I would have told you either way, because honestly, I don’t think being just friends will ever be enough.

Harper: We can’t.

Rogan: It’s not that we can’t, because fuck . . . we so can. It’s that we shouldn’t, right?

Harper: No, I don’t think I can physically take the thought of us again.

Rogan: I can, and it’s fucking beautiful.

Harper: I have to go, Rogan.

Rogan: I’ll see you Friday, Harp. Have a good night’s sleep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

HARPER

Sophomore Year, Syracuse University

“Are you nervous?”

“No.” Rogan pulls me tight to his side. “I’ve been to parties before, Harp.”

“I know, but this is a frat party. They do crazy shit here.”

It’s our first frat party, and even though Rogan is cool as a cucumber, I’m nervous. I don’t know what to expect. Well, I mean, I’ve been to parties on campus, and I know there’ll be lots of drinking, but Sigma Nu is known for their parties getting out of hand, and the last thing I want is for my dad to get a call that he has to come bail me out of jail for something stupid. But I’m determined to get Rogan out of his room and have a college experience beyond football.