“You know I just remembered I have this thing.”
The words came out like she’d just cleared a clog in her throat—fast and messy, one tumbling over another to form a single giant sound.Yanojusmemembedthising.
It was about as convincing as her attempts at self-defense, though he seemed to accept it. He disentangled himself from her immediately and sat back on his heels. Expression completely neutral, body language neither offended nor defensive.
Almost like nothing had happened.
And when she thought about it, nothinghad. Him glancing down meant zip. His body on hers meant even less than that. They had just been having some fun, and then she had panicked over a look in the direction of her lips and now the fun was over.
“Sorry, I just…”
“Don’t be sorry, it’s cool.”
“Lydia will be waiting for me, so…”
“Of course, yeah—get gone, everything is okay.”
She stood then, but still couldn’t quite leave.
“It just feels like I fucked up or—” she started to say.
Only he cut her off. He shook his head and said the best possible thing.
“Hey. Hey. Trust me. We are good, babe. No problems, ever.”
And then followed it up with a completely normal gesture. It was just the back of his hand, brushing down the length of her forearm. Not insistently, not sensually, not anything but a kindly touch offered to a friend. He barely made contact, in truth, so she had no idea what her reaction was about. It just came on her in a great wave the second he did it, unstoppable and insurmountable.
She had to leave fast to stop him seeing her reaction—caught somewhere between elation and a heartbroken sob. In the hallway she put a hand to her mouth to keep it in, but it didn’t really help her.Sheknew it had happened. She was still filled with all these new and insane feelings.
And now she had to somehow go on, knowing all the while that they were there.
Chapter 11
She had decided not to mention anything about her last meeting with Tate. Not because there was anything weird about it—there wasn’t. But whenever she imagined explaining it the whole thing somehow wouldn’t come together. She didn’t know what had made her panic like that. She had no clue why everything had gotten so intense and strange and full of meaningful staring.
How did you describe a brush of a hand against your arm that madethathappen?
She wasn’t even sure whatthatwas. She wanted to call it goosebumps, only these particular ones had teeth and claws and bit through the skin on the way out. They were still with her now, as she sat with Lydia in the bustling cafeteria, over a bowl of teriyaki noodle salad. Every time she thought about it they gnawed at her, until finally she broke.
She had to let something out.
She just wondered why it had to bethis.
“He has a massive cock.”
Lydia immediately whipped her head up, eyes like lasers.
That burned a hole right through her body, to the place where shame lived.
“Whohas a massive cock?”
“Tate. Tate has one.”
“I’ll be honest: I was really hoping you were going to say Ryan Gosling.”
“I hoped that, too, and I just said it, after finding it out.”
“Youfounditout? Oh my god, what the hell happened? Were you digging for gold and accidentally stumbled on the Lost City of Tate Sullivan’s Dirty Dick?”
