Frigid by J. Lynn Page B

frustration swirled, mixing with the shot of tequila. Kyler said I didn’t know how to have fun. I was apparently as interesting as a statistics formula on a Monday. Maybe that was kind of true. At that moment, part of me wanted to go back to the house and pick up the book I was reading. Maybe eat some buttery popcorn, too. Oh, and I’d brought that pair of fuzzy socks that were so toasty and—
    “Sydney?”
    Out of all the crazy moments to think about Nathan Balers, he popped into my head right then. I hadn’t really thought about him in over a year. He’d been my only real boyfriend, the guy I’d dated for two years in high school and most of my freshman year in college.
    Looking back, I couldn’t say if I’d been in love with him or not. At the time, it’d seemed like it. The only guy I’d been interested in other than Nate had been off-limits—still was—and Nate had been it for me. Patient. Funny. Smart. Cute. While we’d done other things—namely me doing other things so I didn’t feel like the crappiest girlfriend in the world—we’d waited until our freshman year in college to have actual sex.
    It hadn’t been something to write home about. And apparently it hadn’t been for him either. The sex hurt, and when it stopped hurting and had started to almost feel good, it was over. Nate had broken up with me a week later.
    Over text message.
    A few days after the text, Kyler had overheard Nate running his mouth at a frat party. He’d supposedly been telling the guys that I was so frigid he could barely keep it hard.
    And that was the fight that ended with Kyler having a broken nose and Nate with a broken jaw and a severe limp that lasted several weeks.
    Nathan Balers could go screw himself.
    I knew how to have fun. I knew how to lose control. And I wasn’t frigid.
    Smiling, I turned back to Zach and said, “Another shot would be great.”

Chapter 6
Sydney
    Another shot turned into several more and I honestly lost track of them. At some point, I learned that Zach was the most hilarious person on the face of this Earth, or at least it seemed that way, because I couldn’t stop laughing. Then again, I’m pretty sure I would’ve laughed at a massive car pileup on the interstate.
    When someone kicked on the jukebox and “County Roads” started playing, I had no idea what the lyrics were, but I sang along anyway. And when Zachie Boy caught my hand and started to pull me toward a little dance floor near the hall leading to the restrooms, I didn’t protest.
    Though the bartender did. “You might want to sit this one out, honey.”
    “I’m fine.” A big old smile was plastered on my face.
    Zach tugged on my hand. “You heard her. She’s fine.”
    The bartender’s gaze moved from me to him. “She’s not a local, Zach.”
    “He knows that,” I pointed out.
    “Keep that in mind, Zach.” The words sounded like a warning to me, but that didn’t make sense, and Zach was pulling me over to the square patch of floor anyway.
    We started dancing, and our legs brushed. When I turned around, his hands landed on my hips. I didn’t mind. I don’t think I cared about anything. Music thrummed through my veins. Or maybe it was the tequila. Either way, it didn’t matter. Within minutes, sweat dotted my brow and I lifted my hair off my neck. The movement tugged my shirt up, exposing a slice of skin.
    Fingers whispered along my stomach, startling me. “You’re so incredibly hot,” Zach said, his palm flattening against my belly, fingers climbing further up my stomach. “Seriously.”
    My brows rose at that statement. Then again, besides Sasha, there weren’t a lot of prime pickings, and I did feel hot as I swayed my hips to the beat of the music.
    Zach lowered his head, rubbing his chin along the side of my face. The slight stubble made me shiver. “We should get—”
    My butt vibrated, distracting me. “Hold on a sec,” I said, stepping away as I pulled my cell from my back pocket. It was a text