21. Jolie
JOLIE
I creep back into my dorm like a freaking stealth ninja and manage to slip into bed without waking Nylah. I think. I hope. When her alarm goes off about forty-five minutes later, she groans as though she’s not impressed, and that makes me think I’m in the clear.
I didn’t manage to drift off in that time.
I was too busy analyzing every microsecond of my time with Ben.
He felt good.
I mean, like, wow. His lips on my breasts were like nothing I had ever experienced before. These new sensations sizzled through me—an electric current that I’m sure could become quite addictive, which is why I definitely have to see him another time.
Although I probably shouldn’t. Guilt keeps trying to burn me, to steal the joy from my night.
But… I want to experience it all over again… and maybe more.
My inner thighs twitch.
Do I want that?
Yes. I just got myself a little nervous, is all. Next time, I’m sure I’ll have more confidence, because I do want to know what an orgasm feels like. They certainly sound good. From what I’ve been reading in these novels and what I’ve seen on Bridgerton, they look heady and addictive.
Ben keeps saying everyone deserves one… and that includes me, right?
But do I?
Guilt slaps me on the back of the head again, and I’m thrown into silent torment between wanting to go for it and knowing I probably shouldn’t. But it’s not like we’re actually having sex. He’s just touching me a little. I can get away with that, right?
“Morning.” Nylah’s voice has that morning croak to it, and I whip my head to look at her.
She smiles at me and I smile back, not trusting my voice to behave itself and settling for a closed-mouth smile instead.
Her expression dims slightly, but she keeps talking anyway. “You got in late last night. I didn’t even hear you come in. Did you have a good time?”
I swallow, begging my eyes not to bulge and give me away. “Uh-huh.” Licking my lips, I throw my covers back and quickly stand, using the bathroom as an excuse to get away from the conversation.
I can’t tell her what I’ve been up to.
I can’t tell anyone!
And I trust Ben not to either. I can’t imagine him wanting to brag that he’s teaching some clueless freshman about the wonders of sex… but not actually having sex with her.
Rolling my eyes, I try not to think about how absurd this all sounds as I wash my face and get ready for the day.
“Hey, want to grab breakfast with me downstairs?” Nylah asks, her voice hopeful as I finish getting dressed.
I glance across the room, kind of wanting to say no, but also not wanting to be rude.
“Sure,” I rasp, and her smile grows.
Weird.
I don’t understand why she’d want to hang with me. She’s so cool. I’m surprised she hasn’t already made a dozen friends and they’re not all texting her to meet up. I’m also surprised when we sit down to eat that she hasn’t greeted half the dining hall by the time we take our seats.
I can’t work this girl out.
Part of me wants to know her story, because that’s what I do. That’s what I love about life—discovering people’s stories.
But if she tells me hers, will she then expect to hear mine?
Eeeep! Bad idea! Don’t say a word!
“Hey, um…” She scoops up a forkful of eggs and smiles at me… again! “What do you have going on today?”
Why is she asking me this stuff? Why is she even interested in me?
Because she’s your roommate, dummy. Would you just answer her already?
I shrug and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, trying to look disinterested because I can’t go giving myself away.
My insides are kind of sparkling, and it’s taking everything in me not to blurt, “This hot junior is teaching me about sex, and even though I have class, I’d rather ditch them all to meet up with him again!
Because it felt so good and maybe just a touch naughty, which somehow makes it enticing, and I know I shouldn’t but I’m going to anyway. ”
Instead, I settle for “Just class. Boring. You know how it is.” I shrug again, then notice her expression sinking, so I quickly throw in a little something more. “But I might have lunch with my cousin, Caroline, so… yeah…”
Wait, why did I say that?
I can’t have lunch with Caroline! She’ll take one look at my face and totally know I’ve been up to something.
Ugh. I am so not cut out for this secrecy, this weird-ass double life that I’m venturing into. I’m not sure I can pull it off at all.
But I want to.
I loved hanging out with Ben last night… and not just because of his lips and hands. My appetite suddenly flees as my stomach is swarmed by butterflies. No, not delicate butterflies—more like gigantic moths.
Dropping my fork, I push my breakfast tray away.
“So… how’s it going with the school paper?
” Nylah asks, like she’s not done with this awkward conversation yet.
Why does she keep asking me questions? Why does she want to engage?
“Your article on the basketball team was so good. I love how you featured that player. What’s his name?
Ben something?” She grins, and my stomach bottoms out.
“Are you going to be doing a feature on any of the other players? Or has the editor given you something else to work on?”
The editor?
Ew! I don’t want to talk about him.
My shoulders ping straight, my skin no doubt paling as I think about the fact that I’ll be interacting with Kieran again in the future. I’ve already had to, and I survived it, but the more involved I get, the more I’ll be around him and…
I can’t tell her about my disastrous first time. She’ll never understand. Her first time was no doubt brilliant. She probably figured out what an orgasm was way before a guy ever touched her. Look at her—she’s so cool and smooth and put together, it oozes out of her every pore.
“Oh.” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Uh… did I miss something? Is it… not going well? Has he not given you something else?”
Oh crap. What is my face doing right now?
I try to pull it into line and answer her.
“It’s, um… yeah, it’s fine.” I swallow and then my head starts doing this bobbing thing.
It makes me look like a chicken at a disco, apparently, but I can’t seem to stop it as I try to hide and cover all my little truths with lies I can’t seem to form.
“It’s totally… fine. Fine, fine, fine.” I put on a laugh, but Nylah sees right through it, her expression dipping into a frown.
I can feel my face crumpling and have to conclude that this breakfast is a complete disaster.
Rising from my seat, I grab my tray and mutter, “It’s gonna be fine. ”
Then I just take off… without even saying goodbye.
Which is so completely rude!
Ugh. I should go back and apologize. I should explain myself.
But the idea of doing that makes my blood run cold.
I still can’t believe I spilled it all to Ben.
Although, that’s kind of working out for me, which I still can’t quite believe.
We spent the night together.
I shake my head, running back up to my room to quickly brush my teeth, because I don’t want to head to class with egg taste in my mouth. Blech!
As I clean my pearly whites, I once again start overanalyzing every little detail of my life and the worries escalate, building up around me like tower blocks until I’m walking to class with them piled up so high that I can barely see.
By the time I make it to the Humanities building, I’ve managed to convince myself that Kieran will make me write an article about the fact that I am awful at sex, Caroline will find out what I did last night and tell my parents on me, and Ben will never text me again because after thinking about it, he’s realized that I am not worth his time, and he’ll fall in love with someone ultra cool and beautiful like Nylah, and I’ll have to watch them ride off into the sunset while my single butt will be standing out in the cold, trying to convince myself that dying without ever having an orgasm is totally fine.
I’m so engrossed in these atrocious imaginings that I actually flinch and gasp when my phone dings.
The person I’m walking past looks at me like I’m a psycho and actually veers away from me as I stomp up the stairs, muttering under my breath that “Yes, I’m a weirdo. You don’t have to make it so obvious.”
Pausing outside the glass doors, I rummage around in my bag, and when I pull out my phone… I stop breathing.
That’s Ben’s name.
Ben’s texting me again.
He’s initiating contact.
He’s—
My eyes dart over his message.
Ben: I’m free again on Saturday night. Do you want me to book the same room?
And just like that, those building blocks of worry come crumbling down. Suddenly, I’m basking in the sunlight, because Ben Evers just asked me to meet up with him again.
At the same hotel.
So we can kiss.
And he can show me what it’s like to get taken out by a physical high.
He wants to give me an orgasm.
And I want to let him!