Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy #1)

“Why are you dodging the question?” Lu prompted.

“I’m not. I’m just creating an ordered list of why that’s a bad idea. First of all, he’s only here for two weeks. Which means he’s looking for a fling. I can’t do that. Not with him.”

“Why not?”

“What if I fell for him again, knowing he’ll leave again? Been there, done that.” I had the scars to prove it—even if they were only visible to me.

“So just hanging out and rekindling your friendship…?”

I shook my head. “He wasn’t looking at me like he wanted to kick back and watch reruns of Two Angry Beavers.” The memory hit me with a wave of happy nostalgia I hadn’t allowed for a long time. We’d both laughed our asses off at that stupid cartoon. I’d never met anyone who got the offbeat humor the way he did. I’d never met any man who got me the way he did either.

“Maybe we should deal with your angry beaver.”

I faced her. “Omigod. I cannot believe you said that!”

Lu aimed her straw at me. “Yes, you can. Your dilemma is easy to solve.”

“Let me guess…your suggestion is that I fuck him.”

“Yes.” She held up her hand to stop my automatic protest. “Just hear me out.”

Tempting to plug my ears and start singing “Never Gonna Get It” at the top of my lungs. Not that Lu would understand the reference; my eclectic taste in music baffled her as much as my penchant for watching weird cartoons.

“You’ve always wondered what sex would be like with him.”

“And that is exactly why I shouldn’t do it.”

“You are a ‘one and done’ chick anyway. Why would it be different with him?”

“It just would be,” I said stubbornly.

“Because you’re afraid he’d be rubbish in bed?”

“Been watching reruns of Absolutely Fabulous again, have you, dahling?” I said in my best British accent.

“Eh, sod off, ye bloody wanker.” She stirred her drink. “I’m serious, S.”

“So am I. What if he’s like…unbelievable in bed? Then I’d be left wanting more”—again—“and I’d worry he just fucked me because he always wondered what sex would be like with me.” I shook my head and didn’t voice my other concern; what if Boone was disappointed in my skills between the sheets? That’d be another blow I might not recover from. “It’s better to wonder and leave it at that. Can we please drop it now?”

She sighed dramatically. “You are such a ballbuster when you’ve got a financial spreadsheet in front of you. But with personal stuff? I never would’ve pegged you as such a chickenshit, McKay.”

I slurped my drink. “Sure you have.”

“When?” Lu demanded.

“Spring break when I refused to get a Pussy Galore tattoo with you.”

“Which makes zero sense since that summer you got that”—she gestured wildly—“brand thingy on your hip. Pussy Galore? Way more meaningful.”

I’d succumbed to my cousin Keely’s badgering and gotten inked with the official McKay cattle brand. “I told you. It’s a family thing.”

“Nice try at changing the subject, but back to you throwing Boone a bone.”

“Awesome alliteration, Baby Spice. I thought we were dropping this.”

“Not until I get my point across.” She tapped her finger on the rim of her cup. “He wants the V, you want the D, so you need to do this. Fuck him one time and get him out of your system. Then you can move on. That way it’ll never get to the stage that his dick isn’t doing it for you anymore and there’s no risk for the burn-out factor.”

I stared at her, thankful for the bizarre turn in the conversation. “Burn-out factor for his…dick?”

“Yep.”

“Is that even a thing?”

Lu nodded. “It’s why I’m not in a relationship.” She drained her margarita. “I’m a dick connoisseur. I like ’em all—fat, thin, long, short, wide, thick, cut, uncut, ruddy, smooth. There are so many colors and sizes, how can I limit myself to just one? And when I think about all the dick I’ve sampled, I feel a little slutty. I begin to think maybe I should try and settle down with the one dick that fits me above all others.”

“You’re comparing your va-jay-jay to a glass slipper? Find the ideal fit and you’ve got a dick you can commit to?”

“Exactly! But how will I find the prince of all penises if I’m not actively looking?”

I couldn’t fault her logic. And if she wanted a different dick every night, who was I to judge? “Your plan to prowl for the perfect pecker is plausible.”

“Now who’s the alliteration queen?”

I stood, putting an end to the discussion. “I’m hitting the pool for a quick swim before I decide whether to make another pitcher of margaritas or whip up a batch of white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies.”

“Count me out for the booze. I have a quiz tomorrow and I have to study.”

“I don’t miss doing homework.”