I’d debated what to wear. My regular pajamas? A bikini?Nothing? I’d bought a discounted satin nightie at Winners, but it seemed so not me. In the end, I settled on a pair of cotton underpants and a lacy pale green bra. They almost matched.
“What are you…? Where are your…?” George’s gaze swept down my body once, twice. “Clothes?”
He was on the other side of the room, but I felt the heat of his attention, and goose bumps flared over my skin. My heart thudded faster than it ever had before.
George swallowed, and it seemed to require effort for him to shift his eyes from my body to my face. When he did, he was looking at me in a way he never had before. It threw me. My rehearsed proposal dissolved on my tongue.
“I think we should have sex,” I blurted instead.
George stared at me, unmoving.
“Together,” I clarified. “I think we should have sex together.”
A laugh bubbled out of his throat, and I shifted my weight. “Wait,” he said. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah,” I told him, rushing on. “I want you to be the one. I mean, I taught you how to drive a stick, and you helped me with my French midterm. We have each other’s backs, right? It doesn’t have to be a whole thing. You would just…teach me.”
If I was being honest with myself, I think a dangerous part of me wanted to know whether there was another reason George had lashed out at Dylan the way he had.
Something in his stare changed, and for a moment, I could tell he was about to close the distance between us. George stepped toward me, but then he stopped and ran a hand over his face as he looked away. “I can’t do that, Frankie,” he said, his voice thick.
It was what I thought he’d say, but I wanted him to hear me out. I wanted him to consider it. I wanted him to say yes. I was determined that he would say yes.
I took a deep breath and sat on the bed, patting the mattress beside me so he’d sit. After a moment of hesitation, he did.
“I trust you,” I said. “I know you won’t laugh at me if I suck at it. And you’ve done it before so at least one of us will know what they’re doing. Besides, I’m ready.”
George straightened at that, surveying me. His gaze fell to my lips, and I went for it, pressing my mouth to his to prove my point. George went completely still, but then I felt his lips soften. He tasted like grape pop and something else that was distinctly George. His hand found mine.
“Please,” I said against his mouth. “I want to get it over with.”
Suddenly, he was off the bed, pacing the floor.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “You’ve already had sex. It’s not like it’s a big deal.”
George gave me a withering look. “I don’t even know you right now.”
Then he walked to the window and disappeared into the night.
I tried to apologize the next morning, but he wouldn’t talk to me. I was terrified I’d ruined our friendship, and I hated myself for it. Two long days passed until, finally, I found a letter in the birdhouse.
Frankie,
You are my best friend, and that’s more important than anything. Sleeping together would be a huge mistake. I’m sorry if I’ve ever done anything to make you think otherwise.
Promise you’ll never kiss me again.
George
George,
It’ll never happen again.
I promise.
Frankie
Chapter Thirty
