Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
She chews her lip, not convinced. “Still. It’s weird.”
I nod, because it is.
She softens a little, reaching out to touch my arm. “What if you get, you know—emotionally attached?”
I laugh, the sound brittle. “No, no, that’s unlikely.”
She shrugs. “You’d be surprised. Intimacy is intimacy. Or maybe you just feel like you have to repay him, and it turns into something else.”
The image flashes behind my eyes: Kent on the massage table, shirt unbuttoned, his eyes heavy-lidded and blue as the night sky, calling my name. I want to say it’s impossible, but the word jams up in my throat.
Kayleigh lets out a breath, watching me close. “Does your mom know about this arrangement?”
My mouth goes dry. “Jeannine’s the one who asked me to help.”
Kayleigh’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait—your mom actually said, ‘Go massage your stepdad’s—’”
“Not like that,” I cut in, voice sharp. “She just said he needed help. She didn’t know the details, or if she did, she didn’t say anything.”
A shiver goes through me. Maybe my mom knew all along. Maybe she orchestrated it. My stomach lurches at the thought.
Kayleigh leans against the wall, crossing her arms. “You know, you don’t owe them everything. You’re allowed to say no.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that. I want to help. Kent’s in pain, Kayleigh. And besides, it’s medical. Clinical. There’s nothing…” I trail off, because the word I want is ‘sexual,’ but I can’t make myself say it.
She studies me, her eyes narrowed. “You say it’s clinical, but you’re blushing.”
I force a laugh. “It’s warm in here.”
We sit there, not talking, while a couple of kids run past on the sidewalk, shrieking with laughter. Kayleigh looks out the window, her reflection half-merged with the racks of secondhand jackets. “So what does your stepdad think about all of this?” she asks, barely louder than a whisper. “Is he the mastermind?”
The words hang in the air, sharp and pointed.
I picture him as he was last night, the way he said my name, the way his hand lingered on my shoulder. I want to say he’s grateful. That he’s desperate for relief. That he trusts me, and only me.
But what comes out is softer, and less certain.
“I think he needs me,” I say. “And that’s enough.”
Kayleigh doesn’t argue. She just nods, slow and thoughtful, as we absorb the weight of my words.
We sit in silence for a bit, letting the sounds of the cafe surround us. Kayleigh gets a scone and picks all the sugar crystals off before eating the pastry, savoring it one bite at a time.
After a minute she finds her smile again. “Do you remember the virginity bet from last year?”
I groan, but it’s a fond groan because what happened was unreal. Me, Kayleigh, Stella and Andie went in on a contest to see who would lose their virginity first. The prize was a thousand dollars, and our friend Andie won by hooking up with Stella’s dad. Even crazier, Andie’s now engaged to the older man, and she moved out of our off-campus apartment to be with him. It was shocking when we found out who’d taken her virginity, but then again, I’ve seen Mr. Moreland, and that man is jaw-droopingly gorgeous. “Andie won. She slept with Stella’s dad, remember? I always knew he had his eye on her. You could feel it, but yeah. Stella’s dad, OMG.”
Kayleigh nods, solemn. “But now you’re in a tangle with an older man too.”
I nod.
“I know. But my thing isn’t anything sexual,” I say quickly. “It’s just medical, I swear it.”
“Of course,” Kayleigh says mysteriously, and pops a sugar crystal into her mouth.
We’re both quiet for a minute, watching the college boys at the next table try to out-macho each other with stories about absinthe. I feel normal, almost, like none of the last hour happened.
Kayleigh leans in, dropping her voice. “So… are you still in the running?”
I laugh, really laugh. “You mean, for the virginity bet? But Andie won?”
Kayleigh shrugs.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean the contest’s over. So are you?”
I giggle a little. “Unfortunately, yes. I’m still a proud member of the V Squad.”
My pretty friend tilts her head, her tone shifting. “Does that bother you? Like, you ever just want to get it over with? Say to some guy, take my virginity and be done with it?”
I roll a melting ice cube between my hands. “Sometimes. But most of the time, I’m just… not ready? Or maybe I want it to matter. Or maybe I’m just scared.”
She shrugs. “No shame in that. I’m still a member too, if that makes you feel better.”
I look up, surprised. “You? Didn’t you date that guy with the skateboard tattoos?”
She snorts. “He was a poseur. Also, never made it past second base. Total coward.”
We both snicker, and then she gets quiet, looking at the wall. “If I had to pick, though… I’d want my first to be with my stepbrother.”