Pucking the Good Girl (Atlanta Gliders)

Chapter 1

AVA

“What happens in Cancún, stays in Cancún.”

I side-eye my best friend. “That sounds like some bullspit vacation propaganda.” Not to mention a recipe for bad decisions and instant regret.

“So what if it is?” Kayla grins. “You said you wanted to cut loose on this trip.”

I hook a thumb toward the third member of our trio. “I’m pretty sure that was Lexie.”

It had to be. She’s the most laid-back person I know. Case in point, she’s currently guzzling margaritas like she doesn’t have a care in the world, her bronze skin glowing in the late-afternoon sun while I’m covered head to toe in SPF 70.

A pang of jealousy lodges in my chest, but I stuff it down as Lexie’s gaze meets mine.

“Babe, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but if anyone here needs to live a little, it’s you.

” She plucks a lime from the rim of her glass and pauses, a thoughtful expression settling over her face.

“A little P-in-V action wouldn’t hurt either.

When was the last time you got dicked down, anyway? ”

Heat floods my cheeks, and I scan the outdoor bar, praying we haven’t been overheard.

For once, luck is on my side.

The music is loud, and while the beachside palapa is filling up quickly, no one is paying us a lick of attention. Most of the newcomers are vying for the bartender’s attention, probably hoping to take advantage of the happy hour specials—thank God.

“Come on.” Lexie nudges me playfully. “Spill already!”

“We are not talking about se—this in public,” I whisper-hiss.

Lexie snort-laughs. “That long, huh?”

If they only knew ….

“Holy shit.” Kayla’s eyes go wide, and I can practically see the lightbulb glowing over her head. “Is Beau the last guy you slept with?”

My spine stiffens, because even now, two years later, the mere mention of my no-good ex is enough to sour my mood. “He’s the only guy I’ve slept with.”

First, last, and only.

Kayla’s jaw drops, and her gaze slides to Lexie before pivoting back to me. “How did we not know this? We’re your best friends. You’re supposed to tell us everything.”

“I do.” Mostly. “Besides, we had more important things to discuss than my love life, or lack thereof.”

Lexie pulls a face. “Like what? What could be more important than your sexual liberation?”

I shrug. “Homework, politics, season three of The Summer I Turned Pretty?”

“Giiirrrl.”

It was worth a shot. The Jeremiah vs. Conrad debate was pretty heated for a minute, but clearly that isn’t going to save me now.

“It’s not a big deal.” I hoist my own margarita from the scarred bar and drain the glass in one long gulp. “And I do not need to be liberated. I have a vibrator.”

One that consistently delivers, unlike Beau.

“It’s so not the same,” Kayla argues. “Which you’d know if you had more experience.

” She frowns. “Scratch that. If you had the right experience. I’ll bet Beau was terrible in bed.

No guy who runs around spouting trad-wife bullshit can possibly be a good lover.

I’ll bet he was selfish AF in the bedroom. ”

She stares at me expectantly, and I fold like a house of cards. Because of course I do. “It was fine,” I mutter, unable to meet her eyes.

“Fine?” Lexie huffs. “I’ve heard you give tea recs with more enthusiasm.”

“What can I say? I really like tea,” I tease, keeping my tone light. The last thing I want to do is bring the mood down. After all, we are on vacation.

“I’m going to need more alcohol for this conversation.” Kayla raises her empty glass, catching the bartender’s attention.

Alejandro makes a beeline for us—no surprise there, he’s been flirting with Kayla all week—and rests his open palms on the edge of the bar. “Another round of margaritas?”

“We’re going to need something stronger,” Lexie informs him. “How about a round of shots?”

Alejandro nods, but his attention remains fixed on Kayla. “Tequila?”

“Better make them doubles.” She bats her lashes, ever the flirt. “It’s our last night.”

“Sí, senorita.” He grabs a bottle of tequila and begins pouring with expert precision. “I hope you have enjoyed your time in México.”

Kayla winks at him. “The trip isn’t over yet.”

Alejandro laughs and slides three shot glasses across the bar before moving on to another patron.

I pass one of the glasses to Lexie. “That’s a lot of tequila.”

“It’s the perfect amount, actually.” Kayla flashes me a wicked grin, and my stomach drops.

I rarely do shots, and never doubles. “The perfect amount for what?”

To her credit, Kayla doesn’t hesitate. She charges ahead; consequences be damned. “For getting you wasted and actually having some freaking fun tonight.”

Lexie high-fives her behind my back, and they giggle like teenagers.

“I don’t need to be wasted to have fun, thank you very much.” I roll the shot glass between my palms. I’ve never been a big drinker, and I don’t plan to start now. Not when it means giving up control and possibly making a fool of myself. “Besides, I came on this trip to relax, not hook up.”

Kayla arches a brow. “The two are not mutually exclusive. Hell, you don’t even have to have sex. Just…let your inhibitions go for one night. God knows you deserve it.”

She’s not wrong.

For the last two years, I’ve been grinding to earn my master’s degree in sport psychology, but with graduation behind us, there’s nothing holding me back.

Heck, the whole point of this trip was to have one last hurrah before we go our separate ways and get bogged down with jobs and whatever else life throws at us.

Still…. Someone has to be responsible, and for as long as I can remember, it’s been me.

I always follow the rules. I never swear.

I was on the middle school safety patrol, for crying out loud.

There is absolutely nothing in my history to suggest I’m the kind of person who goes wild on vacation and indulges in a meaningless fling.

I’m far too proper for something like that, which, now that I think about it, is rather depressing.

So much for keeping things breezy.

It doesn’t have to be about sex.

True, but— No. No buts. I’ve been the perfect daughter. The perfect student. The perfect friend. Or at least I’ve tried to be. Why shouldn’t I throw caution to the wind and enjoy a night out? Don’t I deserve to make a few wild memories of my own?

Just this once.

No rules. No shame. No impossible expectations.

No one back home will ever find out.

“Come on,” Lexie wheedles, grabbing my hand. “It’s our last night. Let’s go big. No regrets. Just balls to the wall fun.”

Anticipation bubbles in my chest, and I exhale slowly, focusing on the sound of the rolling tide as it crashes on the beach. It’s barely audible beneath the happy hour din, but it’s there, steady and soothing, a quiet reminder that, no matter my choice, the earth will keep on spinning.

I can do this. I am doing this.

I square my shoulders and raise my shot glass. “To us. And to a night we’ll never forget.”

“Hell yes!” Lexie coos, raising her glass as Kayla does the same.

“I’ll drink to that!” Kayla slams her shot back. Lexie and I follow suit.

The tequila burns going down, but once it hits my stomach, warmth floods my system, making the world just a bit softer around the edges.

A girl could get used to this feeling, if only for a night.

After all, what happens in Cancún, stays in Cancún.