She claps her hands together like a kid watching herfavorite show. “Intense? How? Like, good intense or maybe-I-should-call-the-police intense?”
I start to laugh. “Good intense. No need to get law enforcement involved.”
“So what happened? Did you booty call him? I haven’t even seen you two together.”
I twist the string on my hoodie. “It’s um… not that. Not romantic.”
Her brows knit. “But you had sex?”
I nod quickly, my cheeks pinking. “He hunted me.” The words tumble out all at once, and I finally get the satisfaction of seeing Romy completely shocked.
“What?” She leans forward looking at me like she doesn’t know me at all.
“He chased me. In the woods. Then he caught me. Like the book.”
“And you…” She waves her hand back and forth.
“Yes.”
Her mouth drops open. “Jesus. This was not what I was expecting.” She shakes her head, like she’s trying to free the cobwebs. “Okay, let’s backup. You had a primal scene together. He was the hunter, you were the prey?”
“Pretty much,” I say.
“Just like inHunting of Red. Oh my God.” She almost blushes. “That’s stupidly hot. I need details. Where? How? Tell me everything.”
“If you promise not to use it for a vlog, I will.”
“Girl Scout’s honor,” she taps her fingers to her brow. And although I know for a fact she’s never been a girl scout, I tell her anyway.
About him running after me on the beach. About the way he touched me there. Our later encounters, at the hotel.
And then his offer.
She leans forward, rapt, as I tell her about the dress, the orders, the way I had to leave my keys in the car and run through the woods. How he chased me, caught me.
And what came next as he took me.
Romy exhales like she’s been holding her breath the entire time. “Jesus. He did that all for you. How did you feel?”
I let out a long breath. “It was so good,” I whisper. “Like stupidly amazing. I couldn’t walk afterward. He carried me back to my car, drove me to his place, showered me, fed me, then held me while I slept.”
“This is getting too much, the man knows aftercare.” She sighs, like this is her favorite thing in the world. “That’s it. I’m putting ‘needs to be showered, fed, and held’ on my Tinder profile.” Her eyes meet mine and she smiles. “So when are you seeing him again?”
My stomach tightens. There was no mention of that. Not last night, not in his notes, and definitely not in his messages.
“I don’t know that I am,” I say honestly. “Not like that. He made it clear he doesn’t want a relationship. And I have to respect that.” Because he respected my wishes. Every single step of the way.
I owe him the same courtesy.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Wait. You have life-ruining sex with him, and that’s it? No, that can’t happen. It can’t be nothing more than a one night stand.”
I shake my head, but the tiny sting behind my eyes gives me away. “Maybe it was just a friend helping a friend,” I say. “I had something I wanted, he helped me. Why does it have to be anything more?”
“Because I’ve never seen you with a guy. Not once, anddespite many attempts to get you to start dating.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Which tells me you’re not the type to go for a one night stand.”
I guess I’m not.
“When was the last time you had sex? Before this?” she asks.
