I’m not a prick. That’s the excuse I’m going with as I take the short walk up to Natalie’s door, my pulse jacked like the puck’s about to drop. We had sex. Hot. Wet. Blow-your-mind sex. And I’m not looking for a repeat. I’m not. I’d have to be a total fuckwad if I showed up here intent on backing her against another wall and catching her breathy moans with my mouth when it’s been less than twenty-four hours since we agreed we were only going to do it the one time.
