Sophia woke to sunlight flooding through the thin curtains, warming her cheeks. For a moment she just lay there, tangled in the sheets, her body deliciously sore and strangely light, like she’d dreamed herself into another world.
Then she shifted.
Her smile froze. The sheets beneath her thighs felt damp. Not damp—wet.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, jerking upright. Heat flooded her face as she stared at the darkened patch soaking into Jazz’s pale guest sheets. She yanked the blanket over it, mortified. Her best friend was going to walk in here, take one look, and think she’d—
No. No, no, no.
Her mind replayed last night in dizzy flashes—the sound of Nate’s voice groaning her name, the way she’d climaxed so hard she thought her soul left her body, the second wave that followed because she
