It's Just Sext (The Right Kind of Wrong) by Fox, Felice

by now. She could never, ever face him again, that’s for sure. She tried to move on, but her mind refused to let her change the subject. Nic Taylor was the one that got away. She was still single, but he was already married when they met, and although that kept her physically at arm’s length from him, there was no stopping her heart from betraying her. She wept for him as if they had been star-crossed lovers, and not just a couple of people who met at a weekend bluegrass festival. It didn’t help that he was the famous son of a legend. “You never stop smiling, do you?” he had asked, his charming Southern drawl melting June to a puddle as she escorted him to the next stage. Meeting the musicians was one of the perks of volunteering at these shows, and though she’d never really listened to his music before, she knew exactly who he was. The Taylors were the quintessential bluegrass family band; their father’s songs were considered standards. Listening to them play that festival, she was surprised to hear how many songs she hadn’t known were written by Nic’s dad. She had been hearing them at jam sessions since forever. The idea that she had fallen instantly in love with an already-spoken-for bluegrass star was not something June liked to admit. It had been foolish fantasy, and yet she had carried the memory with her for almost a decade when all other schoolgirl crushes had faded away. She had convinced herself that an unspoken understanding arose between them that weekend—they had