CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
LINA
W ithin minutes of me walking back into the apartment, I’m ushered out again.
Kara, Eden, and Meredith were all ready to leave, saying something about going downtown to get champagne for the ball drop later tonight.
The only thing I had time to do was set my bags down in my bedroom. Then, Eden forced me back into my shoes and pulled me out of the apartment.
Somehow we ended up riding in Braxton’s BMW because Meredith has the spare key and is allowed to borrow it whenever she wants. Eden couldn’t pass up the opportunity to ride it in—despite all of our own cars being equally as nice.
Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I rode in a car that wasn’t with Grant. Normally when we’re going downtown, we walk. But today the Connecticut cold has something to prove, and none of us are willing to put up with it.
“What kind of champagne are we getting?” I ask as I step out of the backseat of the car, pulling my Columbia coat tighter around me.
“Who gives a shit? I’m getting drunk,” Kara says, and I’m sure if any bystanders heard, they’d be concerned. We’ve grown accustomed to it.
Eden is quick to hold up her gloved hands. “Woah, woah, woah. I refuse to stand for bad champagne.”
“Is there such a thing?” Meredith asks.
“Not sure.” Usually, if I’m drinking, it’s because I want to get drunk—or at least tipsy. Champagne is not something I usually gravitate to for that.
We walk into the nearest liquor store, the bell above the door ringing as Meredith curses, causing all of us to turn back.
The hem of her oversized cardigan is somehow wrapped around the handle, but the three of us quickly get her disentangled before continuing toward the champagne section.
Technically, Kara and I are not twenty-one yet, contrary to what our fake IDs say, but Eden and Meredith are, which makes this process much easier.
Kara grabs what feels like the first bottle she sees, handing it to Meredith before stepping back in line with me, where I wait behind Eden. “So, how was your time in Martha’s Vineyard?”
“Good,” I say noncommittally. “We had fun.”
“What kind of fun?” Eden immediately presses.
“Well,” I pretend to draw out. “Last night I asked him why he had sex with so many girls, which turned into him describing how he loves giving girls earth-shattering orgasms. I told him I’d never had one, then later that night, he kissed me.
When I asked him if he thought he could give me an orgasm, he said the offer was open whenever I wanted.
” I let out a long breath once I’m finished putting the events in the simplest form possible.
The three of them all turn and look at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“I’m sorry.” Kara pauses. “ What?”
Eden grabs one of the shelves for dramatic effect with her jaw halfway to the floor. “Wait—wait, wait. Back it up. You told Grant that you’ve never had an orgasm?”
“And then he offered to give you one?” Meredith adds, her voice a flat octave somewhere between horrified and impressed.
“Is this some kind of alternate universe?” Eden continues her ramble.
“Listen, listen—” I try to start, but each of them cuts me off again.
“You listen, ” Kara says, pointing at me as if she’s delivering a TED Talk. “You can’t just casually drop that Grant offered to give you a life-changing orgasm like you’re reading us the weather report.”
“I’m sorry, but what the hell is happening in Martha’s Vineyard?” Meredith adds, clutching the champagne bottle in stress-ball fashion. “I thought you were going to drown your feelings and get some good sleep in Grant’s bed.”
“Same!” Eden throws her hands up. “I thought this was going to be some eat, drink, and grieve thing. Not orgasms on demand. ”
I press my lips together, trying not to smile. “Nothing happened , okay?”
“Nothing yet,” Kara mutters.
Leveling her with a look, I say, “You’re not helping.”
“You don’t need help. You need to admit you’re in love with him.”
“Okay, that’s an enormous stretch?—”
“Lina,” Eden cuts in, her tone suddenly gentler. “You stayed in his bed last night, right?”
My silence is the answer.
“And did it feel normal? Comfortable?” she asks, one brow raised.
“Yes,” I admit quietly.
They exchange a look —the kind I hate because it’s always full of silent conclusions they’ve drawn without me.
“Alright. I think we need to step back and let you figure this out for yourself.” Meredith sighs hopelessly.
Eden finally makes her champagne selection—a luxury-looking, gold-encrusted bottle that probably costs the same as a month’s worth of groceries.
“I completely disagree. I think this needs to be discussed in much further detail—preferably over champagne. In fact, there may be a need for an intervention here.”
“Intervention?” A laugh nearly bursts from my lips.
None of them flinch as we make our way toward the counter.
Kara nods in agreement. “You’re going to take him up on the offer, aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You can’t be serious!” Eden gasps. “The top orgasm provider on campus offers you his services, and you’re not jumping at the opportunity to take them?”
“We all know Eden already jumped on that one,” Meredith mutters under her breath.
My head spins, metaphorically and literally, but the look the cashier gives us as the champagne bottles are set on the counter near the register keeps me from asking any follow-up questions.
It might be for the best because I don’t know if I want the answer. Instead, I answer the original question, “I never said I wasn’t considering it.”
“Right.” Eden grabs the bag of champagne once the cashier finishes ringing us up. “At this point, it’s not about if it happens—it’s when. And what you’ll be wearing when it does.”
“I’m not even thinking about that right now.”
“Doubt it,” Meredith says as we step back into the cold. “You’re way too calculated for that.”
“I’m not calculated,” I reply, even though it may not be entirely true. I’m positive there are at least a couple calculated bones in my body. “I’m practical. There’s a difference.”
We make it back to the BMW, all of us shivering despite our coats. I catch myself when I nearly slip on a patch of ice near the car door.
Kara slides into the passenger seat, and Eden slides into the backseat alongside me, saying, “Okay, Miss Practical. Walk us through it.”
I set the champagne bag beside me and buckle my seatbelt. “Alright. Option one—I take him up on it. There’s chemistry, we’re comfortable, and I trust him. Odds of a good outcome: high .”
Meredith starts the car, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “And option two?”
“Option two—I don’t. I wait it out, risk the tension getting worse, and maybe lose the window altogether. Which would be fine, except I’d always wonder.”
Would it be fine, though? Would I ever trust someone in the way I trust Grant?
It’s the part giving me the most trouble because I’m not sure whether there’s a sensible conclusion. I won’t know unless I choose one of my options. It’s not what I’m used to.
Normally, I’m looking at situations with a more controlled mindset. Like some kind of data set with variables and consistency.
Emotions don’t provide that kind of insight.
And with Grant, the stakes feel higher than I ever could have imagined them to be.
Kara turns around in her seat, smirking. “So what’s stopping you?”
“Timing,” I say. “And whether I’m okay with changing the entire dynamic for something that might only exist for a moment.”
Eden whistles low. “You really don’t do things unless you’ve weighed every variable, do you?”
“No,” I admit. “That’s the point. I don’t want to make rash decisions. I want to make sure this makes sense.”
“And does this?” Meredith asks.
“That’s what I’m figuring out.” I exhale, watching my breath fog the window.
There’s a beat of silence before Kara says, “Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with Gage?”
She’s watching me, waiting for something deeper than a deflection. And for once, I don’t feel like performing.
Staring out the window for a second, I watch the frost build along the edges of the glass. Then I say it—flat, like I’m reciting someone else’s story.
“It wasn’t just that he cheated.”
Three heads turn toward me at once, the sudden quiet louder than the music still playing softly through the speakers.
“It was with my best friend from high school. And it happened in my bedroom. During my mom’s wake.” I speak the details as cold, hard facts. Because that’s what they are.
No one speaks. Not immediately.
Eden’s mouth parts, like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out.
Kara blinks, her entire body frozen halfway between turning around and sitting forward again.
Meredith must let her foot off the gas, because the car begins to slow as the smallest amount of concern passes over her features.
I don’t look at any of them. I don’t need to. I know what’s on their faces—shock, horror, maybe pity. It’s why I’ve never told them before. It’s why I learned to say it like it doesn’t mean anything.
Because if I let the emotion in, I might never come back from it.
“So yeah,” I say, voice quiet but steady. “Grant doesn’t feel like a maybe . He feels like the only person who didn’t make me feel smaller after everything and figured out how to put me together again. And that’s a lot to risk screwing up.”
There it is. The most truth I’ve ever told them about the situation.
A beat of silence.
Then Meredith says, her voice thick, “Lina.”
“Don’t,” I cut her off gently, already knowing what’s coming. “I don’t need anyone to fix it. I just—I needed to say it out loud.”
They’re quiet again, but it feels different now. Not uncomfortable. Not fragile. Just full.
Of love. Of understanding. Of space being made.
Kara finally speaks, softer than I’ve ever heard her. “You know we would’ve set his house on fire if you’d told us.”
That pulls a laugh out of me. A real one.
“I know,” I murmur. “That’s part of why I didn’t.”
Eden’s eyes are glassy when I finally glance at her. “You’re allowed to want something good now.”
“Like orgasms,” Meredith adds quickly, lightening the tension.
“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Kara says. “I mean, Lina and Grant? Seriously?”
“I would like to put on the record that Meredith and I called it.” Eden’s smirk is glowing as she messes with the chain of her heart-shaped necklace. “We knew she’d have the hots for him from the moment he hung that painting in our apartment, didn’t we, Mer?”
Meredith’s quick to agree. “It was the forearm flex. Unbeatable.”
“Careful.” Kara nudges her at the red light. “Your boy toy is his quarterback.”
Eden adds, “And the way he looked at her, like she’d personally invented oxygen. I mean, come on. I’ve seen people look less impressed by the Taj Mahal .”
“Leave it to you to make an architecture reference right now,” Kara teases.
“I’m surprised you haven’t made your spiel about how orgasms produce dopamine,” Eden shoots back.
Kara smirks, leaning back in her seat like she’s about to deliver a lecture.
“Actually, orgasms release a surge of dopamine and oxytocin, which are both directly tied to emotional bonding and long-term memory formation. So technically, if Grant pulls it off, you’re not just catching feelings—you’re also chemically imprinting on him like a baby duck. ”
Meredith looks over at her like she’s lost her mind, but then traffic starts moving and her foot lets off the brake. “Baby ducks imprint?”
“On the first thing they see move after hatching,” I quickly explain, and when Meredith and Eden both give me a what-the-fuck look, I add, “I saw it in a documentary once.”
“You and your goddamn documentaries,” Meredith groans, right as Kara says, “Exactly! Grant being your first orgasm is like a baby duck imprinting on the hotshot, king of the jungle lion.”
“ Actually, lions aren’t the king of the jungle, contrary to popular belief. They actually tend to inhabit savannas, far removed from jungle-like forests.” Yet another fact I’ve picked up from some documentary I’ve seen.
“ Whatever ,” Meredith groans.
“Is there a documentary about the benefits of casual sex?” Eden asks. “I think it might do you some good.”
“No, but I bet if I sat here and started telling her all about the biological benefits of consistent orgasms, she’d start taking notes,” Kara says before listing off, “Lower cortisol levels, boosted immune system, improved REM sleep cycles, ” she emphasizes.
“You insult my memory.” I roll my eyes, pressing a hand to my chest, pretending to be offended. “I don’t need to take notes.”
“Well, you need to do something about this situation,” Meredith quips, pulling back into the parking lot of our apartment complex.
“ Yeah,” Eden quickly agrees, nodding her head frantically, “and I think we all know what the correct way to go about this is.”
I’ve been tiptoeing around something that’s already made itself clear. Something I’ve already chosen in a hundred small ways. The trust. The comfort. The fact that I haven’t let anyone touch me—not really—not since Gage.
Since then, I’ve been fearful of any kind of relationship, let alone a strictly physical one. And maybe the idea still terrifies me, but with Grant, it feels less like crossing a line and more like finally admitting one never needed to exist in the first place.
And the truth is, I want this. Him.
“Okay.”
Meredith glances back. “Okay?”
“Okay.” I blow out a long breath. “I’m going to do it.”
There’s a beat of silence before all hell breaks loose.
Eden lets out a squeal so loud I’m pretty sure we all lose hearing in one ear. Kara slaps the dashboard like she just won the lottery. Meredith hops out of the car like it’s suddenly burst into flames.
“Oh my god, it’s happening,” Eden crows.
“We need champagne and a game plan,” Kara says, already pulling out her phone.
“A timeline, a strategy—God, do we have time for a wax appointment?” Eden asks.
Kara raises her hand. “I have an at-home kit!” Yeah, probably sitting right next to her practice suture kit.
“You guys are insane.”
“ Supportive ,” Meredith corrects.
“Insanely efficient,” Kara adds. “Because we now need to pick out your outfit.”
“I wasn’t planning on?—”
“Lina.” Kara turns around to face me fully, eyes wide and deadly serious. “This is your first orgasm . With Grant Vandenberg . There’s going to be an outfit.”
As we all get out of the car to head back into the apartment, my stomach flips as it finally hits me.
I’m doing this. Not only that, but I’m doing this in a way that’s going to be carefully curated by a three-woman committee.
It’s how we work around here. Once it’s out in the open, everything is a group decision.
And right now, I couldn’t be more grateful.