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“Nice.”

I stiffened, eyes widening as I recognized a voice way too deep to belong to Syd, unless she had been keeping a major secret from me. Two pink splotches formed on my cheeks as I turned toward the open bathroom door.

That was definitely Kyler’s voice, and if he was home, there was a good chance he wasn’t alone, which meant…

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Face burning and most likely matching my hair, I briefly considered hiding behind the shower curtain, but that was weak and would be really weird. I walked out of the bathroom and quickly discovered that I’d just inserted foot and my entire leg into my mouth.

Kyler Quinn was in the bedroom with one well-defined arm draped over Syd’s slim shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed pink, so I was assuming he’d given her a heck of a greeting with his mouth and hands. He was a multitasking kind of guy. Right then, he was grinning at me like a cat that had devoured an entire box of mice. Kyler was hot. With his messy brown hair and Prince Charming kind of smile, he was a perfect match for Sydney, who sort of reminded me of a living, breathing Snow White.

Sydney and Kyler? Gah, they made me want to puke rainbows of the My Little Pony variety.

Their whole story was a thing of fairytales, what little girls dreamed of—what I still kind of dreamed of in a really pathetically sad sort of way.

Growing up together, basically best friends for life, they both had been secretly in love with one another, and last year, while snowed in together at the cabin in Snowshoe, they’d finally fessed up to their feelings. They’d been together ever since, and even though I was a wee bit envious of their love for one another, I couldn’t be any happier for them. Those two deserved their happy ending.

The walking penis leaning against the doorframe? Another story.

My gaze slid to Tanner Hammond. He wasn’t hot. Oh no. Hot was too weak of a word to describe all six feet and four inches of sexiness packed into well-formed arms, tight abs, and a broad chest, complete with narrow hips and an ass one could ogle for days. His bright, crystal-blue eyes were legit bedroom eyes, always half-hooded, sleepy and sensual. His face was almost perfectly pieced together—high cheekbones and a lower lip slightly fuller than the top lip, his nose faintly crooked from a break he’d suffered long before I knew him.

I usually liked my guys with a bit more hair, but he rocked the buzzed-at-the-sides and cropped-at-the-top look. Once, when I’d been…well, drunk, I’d gotten the great idea to rub my palm across his head. Probably another dumb idea, but I’d about died over how the prickly softness of his hair felt against my palm.

It had felt go-oo-od.

The first time I’d seen Tanner had been in my packed English 101 class, and my tongue had practically lolled out of my mouth and smacked off the floor. He, of course, hadn’t noticed me. Hell, Kyler and Syd thought we’d only met in the last two years or so. Not true. I’d known of Tanner since my freshman year. That year alone, he’d been in two of my classes, and I had crushed on him hard—super hard—right up to the end of spring semester.

Tanner lifted a brow. “I stand by my word. You do drink too much.”

My hands clenched as I drew in a sharp, stinging breath. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Dr. Phil.”

“All I’m saying is that I’ve seen you puke more times than I would hanging out in an emergency room during flu season,” he added dryly.

The vein along my temple started to tick while Kyler tipped his chin down, not doing a good job at hiding his smile. “Oh. So roughly the same number of times you screwed random chicks this week?”

His lips curled into a half-smile—the kind of grin that would’ve been mind-numbingly sexy if I didn’t want to smack it off his face. “Sounds about right—no, wait. There’s probably been one more random chick than you puking, if we’re keeping count.”

“Guys…” Syd murmured.

My shoulders tensed as I readied for a verbal battle, round five million. “So that means you’ve probably caught chlamydia and gonorrhea this past weekend alone, then?”

He raised one shoulder as he eyed me lazily. “Probably the same likelihood of you vomiting in your date’s lap.”

Warmth crept over my cheeks. I’d done that before. Once. Wasn’t pretty. “How about this? Why don’t you go fu—”

Tanner pushed off the wall, turning to Kyler and Syd. “Is she going to the cabin? If so, I need to pack hazmat gear.”

I was going to hit him. Seriously. Plant my fist in his solar plexus, right at the exact moment he inhaled.

Struggling to keep a straight face, Syd looked at me. “I don’t know. I was trying to convince her before you two showed up, but now that seems like a giant waste of time.” She shot a dark look at Tanner.

He smiled broadly. “Sounds good to me.” Clapping his hand on Kyler’s shoulder, he started to walk back into the hall. “I was thinking about inviting Brooke.”

My jaw hit the floor. Brooke Page? Blonde and big booba-licious Brooke Page who needed a calculator to count to one hundred?

“You are not inviting Brooke,” Syd said, sighing.

Tanner chuckled. “How about Mandie?”

A choking sound came from Kyler.

I rolled my eyes. Now he was just being silly. “You have such classy taste in women.”

Casting a long look over his shoulder, he winked. “At least none of them are spoiled little rich girls who couldn’t balance their own checking accounts without Daddy’s help.”

“I am not a spoiled little rich girl!” I shrieked, and Syd suddenly found something interesting on the ceiling. Okay. Being that both my parents were very successful plastic surgeons, they were well off. The apartment I lived in? Paid for by Mom and Dad. As was most everything inside said apartment and the car—an older Lexus—I drove, but just because I came from money didn’t mean I was spoiled. My parents were never afraid to remind me of just how much they paid for and how quickly all of that could go away—they were making me pay my tuition, now that I’d switched majors, and the loans were already adding up. “And I know how to balance my checkbook, unlike Mandie and Brooke.”

“So you say,” he replied, walking down the hall.

I prowled after him, ignoring the exasperated noise coming from Syd. “What? Tanner-man, you don’t want me to go to the cabin?”

“Do I really need to answer that question, Andy?” He headed for the galley kitchen.

My lip curled. I hated that nickname. Made me feel like a dude with big shoulders…and I kind of did have man shoulders. Before I could reply, Tanner said, “It’s Friday night, shouldn’t you be plastered by now?”

“Ha. Ha.” Actually, I was usually a bit tipsy by this point on a Friday night, but Syd was staying in tonight with Kyler, and the rest of our friends were gone.

I can’t go to the cabin.

The moment that thought finished, a slice of panic twisted my stomach and my throat dried. If I didn’t go, I’d be…stuck here. I’d be alone. And if I were alone, I’d just sleep and be…be lame, and if I didn’t sleep, then I’d spend all the time thinking.

Sometimes thinking didn’t end well.

I had to go to the cabin.

Stopping in the entry to the kitchen, I looked down the hall, back to where Kyler and Syd lingered. “When are you guys planning to go to the cabin?”

“Next week.” Syd appeared, her hair mussed and out of the ponytail. Jesus. Kyler was a man of opportunity and a fast worker. “We’re going to leave on Monday morning.”