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him for Clay and he attacked her. Thank God Clay had intervened when he had because I didn’t want to even think about what could have happened.
    Now, William was in prison for attempted murder and some other charges, Clay was Mayor of Washington, D.C., and she and Clay were living out their happily ever after. Gwen hadn’t had an easy way of it, that was for sure, but she was doing so well now and I couldn’t have been happier for her.
    “How’s the foundation doin’?” I asked.
    She and Clay had started the One Heart One Hand Foundation that assisted homeless and other impoverished individuals, including underprivileged youth, get on their feet. They offered job training and placement programs for adults, as well as financial advisement, in addition to various programs for the youth, such as reading comprehension classes and other educational seminars.
    “It’s going great.” Her voice was so animated when she spoke of the foundation; you could tell it was her passion. “We just got the funding approved to build that new youth center over on 16 th Street.”
    “Congratulations!” I wrapped her up in a hug. I knew she had been worried about that funding not going through. “That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”
    “Thanks,” she said and took a sip of her wine. “That’s another reason I brought the wine over. So we could celebrate. Or at least so I could.”
    “Pssh. You know Bea never needs a reason to celebrate.”
    “What are you mouthin’ about, little one?” my big sister asked as she entered the kitchen, her wet hair tied up in a knot on top of her head.
    “I never mouth,” I said and squeezed past her before she could attempt to tackle me and get at my feet. It was her one form of torture against me. She knew I absolutely hated having my feet tickled, so that was her go-to whenever she was annoyed with me. “Come on. It’s almost nine.”
    It was Saturday night, which was when the three of us gathered around our television for our weekly viewing session of Outlander on Starz. We had all read and loved the book series by Diana Gabaldon, but we were also ridiculously obsessed with Sam Heughan. The man was a Scottish god and could model a kilt just as well as he could a pair of Calvin Klein underwear.
    “Uh-huh, it’s almost nine,” Bea said as we all settled into our spots on the couch. “Which means I’ve got time to ask how things are goin’ with your new sex toy.”
    Gwen choked on her wine and spun around to face me. “ What? What sex toy? Who? How’d you meet him?”
    I glared daggers at Bea but she just smiled that deceptively sweet smile that she had perfected over the years. “I can answer that,” she announced. Gwen looked over her shoulder at her, waiting. “Gabe Wexler.”
    Gwen whipped back around with wide eyes. “Oh my God! He finally asked you out?”
    I cringed. “Not exactly.”
    “They screwed on the bathroom counter,” Bea offered.
    I bit my lip and debated on revealing this piece of information but decided I wasn’t ashamed of it so it couldn’t hurt. “Actually, this time it was the dining room table.”
    Gwen’s eyes lit up mischievously. “Felicity Paxton! Look at you!”
    “It’s always the quiet ones,” Bea murmured into her wine glass.
    “He and I are not makin’ a big deal out of it right now, so I’d appreciate it if we didn’t either. Alright?”
    Gwen nodded and Bea held her hands up in surrender. Gwen’s face then morphed into one of concern. “But don’t you like him? Like, actually have feelings for him?”
    I shrugged and kept my attention on the pillow in my lap instead of on their faces. “Doesn’t matter. I’m fine with the situation the way it is.”
    Bea snorted. “Sure you are,” she said under her breath and I shot her another look.
    “I’m not talkin’ about this right now,” I told them firmly. “We’re here to watch the show.”
    “Agreed,” Gwen chimed in. “The only man we’re going to talk about