I jolted. “How do you know I slept with someone?”
“Because you always say that’s a huge, stupid mistake. Did you use a condom?”
Did I mention that she was smart? And way too perceptive. “Of course, we did.”
“It didn’t break, did it?”
I shuddered. That would just put icing on the humiliation cake. “No. I’m good in that department.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“It got recorded.”
A moment of stunned silence, and then a squeal. “You bad girl, you! Oh my God, was it hot? Can I have a copy?”
“No!” I took a breath. “Though if things go badly, I’m sure anyone with internet access will get a copy.”
She blew out a slow breath. “Ouch. Well that sucks, but you’d hardly be the first or the last. So give me the details. Slowly. Take all night if you need to. Paint a really good picture.”
I chuckled despite my misery. “I’m beginning to regret calling you.”
“Liar. Come on. Let me live vicariously through you. Because, sad to say, I’m not getting any, and I miss it.”
“It’s not so muchwhatI did as much aswith whom.”
“Yeah? Who?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear knowing that a squeal was about to come. Then I took a deep breath and confessed. “Rob Lee. We did it twice in the press booth at the stadium. The security cams got it all.”
The squeal didn’t come. In fact, it was quiet enough that I thought we’d been disconnected. But after a moment, I heard a low whistle.
“This is why I advocate regular sex. Otherwise, you build up until you seriously explode.” Then she paused a moment. “Was it good?”
“The best.” In fact, as miserable as I felt right then, parts of me were practically buzzing with happiness.
And now she squealed. A happy high note that never failed to make me smile. “Hot, recorded sex with superstud Rob.”
I groaned.
“Okay, okay,” she said, returning to her serious voice, though I could tell it was a struggle for her. “Tell me everything. Exactly.”
I took a deep breath as I went into the kitchen to get some water. And when I had hot tea brewing, I started the tale. Everything from becoming a stringer at the paper—which she already knew—to the moment I’d stomped my Louboutins right out of the stadium. And at the end of the tale, my tea was cold, my face was hot from humiliation, and Samantha had stopped making gasps and had headed into grumbles of rage. It was part of why I loved her so much. She exactly echoed my emotions when I needed her to.
Except when she spoke, it was with a delicate confusion. “So, um, is this a revenge call?”
I exhaled and tried to pull myself together. “Of course, it is.” Mentally I envisioned blowing up the entire stadium. And while I was at it, I’d obliterate theIndianapolis Sun, too.
“You know it’s not Rob’s fault, right?”
Of course I did. He’d been as outraged as I was. More even. And he’d broken that phone, which had been really satisfying to watch. “This always happens with him. He sucks me in, we have a great time, and then I end up feeling humiliated.”
Samantha made soothing sounds that were completely incoherent. Which meant she was thinking hard and not telling me what she really thought.
“Spill it,” I ordered.
She took a moment, but finally talked in an überrational tone that would annoy me if she weren’t my best friend. “First, nobody cares about an internet sex tape.”
“My parents will kill me. My brothers will never let me forget it. And we’re not even going to talk about the prayers I’ll have to do at the ancestral shrine.”
