Later that night, in bed, Ryan pressed himself against me and I did something I hadn’t done since our first fateful night together. I pushed him away. It pained me to do it, but I was still angry over the fawning I’d witnessed earlier between him, Clay, and Patrick.
He turned on the table lamp. “What is wrong with you?”
“I told you, I’m tired.”
“You’ve never been too tired for s*x before.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything.”
“Are you mad at me?”
I didn’t respond.
“What did I do? I was nice to your friends.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, “a little too nice.”
Ryan let out a dry laugh. “Are you seriously angry because I liked your friends and they liked me?”
This time I did respond. “I’m not angry. I’m just…annoyed.”
“Why?”
I sighed. “Because I don’t want to share my friends
