We worked diligently all day yesterday, making good progress.To my relief, JP was occupied with important mogul things like counting his billions and didn’t spend all his time sitting beside me. But he did make his presence known, popping by to scrutinize our progress and fray my nerves further.
This morning, the third full day of hackathon, after another stupid dog dream that woke me up at the crack of dawn, I decide to attend yoga. Shockingly, half the team turns up. With the mountains as a beautiful backdrop, the unnaturally cheerful instructor guides us through poses on the lawn.
My eyes, however, are not on the mountains, nor the sunrise. Instead, I gawk at JP’s cobra pose like a perv. For a man built like Superman, the control he has arching that gracefully powerful frame is obscene. The morning sun bounces off his gym-honed shoulders and arms, which are straining in the most sinfully delicious manner. His T-shirt creeps northward with each stretch, riding up just enough to reveal a tantalizing strip of abdomen that sends my ovaries into a tizzy.
The only thing that tames my raging hormones is the silent deadly fart that someone—I suspect Matty, since I dragged him to yoga—let out, making me want to be sick in my own mouth.
I know it isn’t JP. His farts are probably really sexy. They’d come up as growls and leave behind an intoxicating blend of spearmint, tea tree musk, and a hint of rugged cedarwood.
By lunchtime I’m a nervous wreck. The yoga was supposed to be calming, but really it just left me needing a cold shower and a confessional. It’s been two nights since I kissed JP, and any time I’ve seen him, he’s acted totally normal. Meanwhile, I’m barely keeping it together. Since I can’t talk to Priya or Libby, Matty will have to do. He’ll probably give me crap, but I trust him.
I drag him away from the buffet, a chicken wing hanging from his mouth.
“Matty, I need you to be serious for once and promise not to breathe a word of what I’m about to say.”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting anything juicy. My usual meltdowns are moreOh no, I used the wrongfontthan life-changing drama.
“Okay, so… I did something.”
He waves the chicken wing at me impatiently. “Out with it.”
“I, um, made out with Wolfe,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Didn’t hear a word of that.”
I sigh, scanning the area warily, before I repeat my confession a little louder.
His jaw drops, chicken wing frozen mid-air. “Are you messing with me?”
“No,” I hiss back at him. “I’m not just saying this for shits and giggles.”
“You?”
“What’s that supposed to mean,me? What, like I’m not good enough for Wolfe?”
“No, no, you’re a catch, Luce.” He shrugs, looking genuinely puzzled. “I just didn’t see that coming.”
I sigh. “Yeah, me neither. It’s a massive fuck-up.”
I watch as his expression morphs from surprise to interest and then to a grimace, as if he’s tasted something sour. “How the hell did that happen? When?”
“Two nights ago. We were talking and…” Howdidit happen? “He made a move, and I got caught up in the moment. Forgot where I was. Who I was. Whohewas.”
He sucks air in through his teeth, leaving me hanging on the precipice of judgment. “Did you fuck him?”
“No way! It was totally PG. Wait, what age is that again? It was definitely eighteen and up. But nothing that would get us kicked out of a movie theater. We kissed,” I confess, twirling my bangs again.
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not gonna get banned.”
I cross my arms indignantly. “It was an insanely passionate kiss!”
The most passionate of my life, but I can’t go down that mental rabbit hole right now. “But that’s not the point. What do I do now? Act like it never happened or do I talk to him about it?” Anxiety gnaws at my lip. “I’m all over the place. I can’t believe I let it happen.”
“Just let it slide, Luce. You’re not in the right place for a fling with Wolfe. Memory loss or no memory loss.”
“Wait, what?!” I sputter, laughing. “You think I’m planning to… with Wolfe? I’m not that dumb.”
At least, I hope not.
