Chapter 3
HARLOW
I’d saved my virginity for twenty years.
Twenty years.
Sure, some of those years weren’t really an option, but still. All those years of waiting, of imagining how it would be. Candlelight, maybe. Or at least a coherent conversation.
And now, here I was, doing the walk of shame in yesterday’s clothes.
Definitely not how I pictured my first time, and I definitely hadn’t foreseen not remembering most of it, fragments, really. His hands. The sound of my own breathing. The way the room spun when I closed my eyes.
What made it so much worse was that I wanted to claw my way out of my own skin, and I felt horrible about the whole thing. When Owen said he and Cam were over, I’d assumed he meant they’d already broken up. Past tense. Done. Finished.
I was wrong.
I shouldn’t have assumed. I actually should have known better. That kind of news would have spread like wildfire through our friend group. Trystan would’ve told Syn. Syn would’ve told me. The gossip chain was sacred, and it had been radio silent.
Which meant they weren’t broken up.
Which meant I slept with my friend’s boyfriend.
I shoved open my bedroom door harder than necessary. My purse sailed through the air and landed on my bed, bouncing off a pillow before knocking over the picture frame on my nightstand, the one photo of all of us before everything went to hell.
It clattered face-down, but I could still see it in my mind: Trystan, Jaxtyn, Kaia, Camryn, Owen, Syn, and me, all crammed together on the back deck during summer break, tanned and smiling like we didn’t know heartbreak was a thing that existed. Like we thought, we’d stay that way forever.
That was the night I’d admitted to Camryn that I had a crush on Owen. She’d hugged me tight and promised that girl code was sacred. Now, several years later, she was dating him.
So much for sacred.
The rational part of my brain knew that Cam probably didn’t even remember that conversation, but I did. She was the only person I ever said it out loud to.
Another part of me knew that Cam’s story ended with Trystan.
Everyone could see it, even Cam, who was fighting her feelings for him like they were armed intruders trying to break down her carefully constructed walls.
But the irrational, slightly vindictive part of me that had done the walk of shame wanted to set the photo on fire and watch our smiling faces curl into ash.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin, a strangled gasp escaping my throat.
Syn, short for Madisyn, nicknamed for being the walking embodiment of the word sin, stood in my doorway with her tatted arms crossed and her black hair wild around her shoulders, wearing an oversized black Kiss t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and a pair of red leggings.
She was my best friend, my soulmate, my complete opposite in every way.
Where I was careful, anxious, and perpetually overthinking, she was chaos, confidence, and zero apologies.
“Jesus…” I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammering against my ribs. “Do you have to lurk like a horror movie villain?”
“I was starting to freak out.” She stalked toward me, eyes narrowing to slits. “Where’s your phone?”
I held up the dead phone, my hand trembling slightly. “Battery gave up on life sometime after midnight.”
“Where. Have. You. Been?” She punctuated each word with a step closer. She was projecting anger, but I could see the worry in her eyes. “Did you stay with Owen?”
My heart stopped completely, flatlining.
“What? No… Why would you…”
“Because your last location was his apartment.” She stopped inches from me. “I checked when you didn’t answer.”
“Oh.” Shit. Shit. Shit. I was the world’s worst liar. My face was flushing hot, probably turning tomato-red. “I drove him home last night. He was really drunk, and I didn’t think I should leave him alone. So I crashed on his couch.” Technically not a lie. I had crashed. Just… not on the couch.
“Oh.” Her expression shifted to what looked like disappointment, as if she were hoping for a different answer. “Well, you should have texted.”
“Yeah, I didn’t plan on passing out for eight hours, sorry.”
I moved to my dresser, desperate to do anything with my hands that wasn’t incriminating, yanking open drawers like I had an actual plan.
“So, anything interesting happen while I was playing babysitter?”
Syn’s face lit up like I’d asked her favorite question in the entire world. She spun dramatically and flopped onto my bed, barely missing my purse. “Cam and Trystan were talking by the pool when I brought Jax home last night.”
“Talking or talking?” I kept my back to her, afraid my face would give everything away.
“I don’t know, but this whole Trystan-Cam-Owen love triangle situation is getting absolutely ridiculous.
” I glanced over my shoulder as she grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her.
“Cam is obviously still in love with Trystan. Trystan is still in love with Cam, and then there’s Owen who.
..” She paused, frowning at the ceiling.
“Honestly? I’m not even sure he’s into Cam like that. ”
I yanked open my top drawer with more force than necessary, the wood scraping loudly in the quiet room. “What makes you say that?”
“There’s no spark. No chemistry. They look like they’d have the world’s most boring sex.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as if she were commenting on the weather. “Like missionary-with-the-lights-off sex.”
“That’s probably because they’re not having sex,” I said before my brain could stop my mouth.
“Wait, what?” Syn sat up so fast she nearly fell off the bed, the pillow tumbling to the floor. “How do you know that?”
My mind raced. “I mean... that’s my theory. Just a vibe I got.” I grabbed random clothes. “You know how some couples have that... lack of energy? Like, there’s no sexual tension? They have that.”
“That makes so much sense.” She relaxed, crisis averted. “God, I hope they all put us out of our misery soon so Cam can get back with Trystan where she belongs.”
“You sure you’re not Team Trystan because he’s your brother?”
“I don’t take sides,” she said with mock offense as she placed her hand over her heart. “I consider Owen and Cam family. I’m simply following the facts, and it’s a fact that Cam and Trystan are endgame. Owen’s the odd man out.”
Guilt twisted in my stomach. “Yeah.”
“He’ll find his person eventually, but everyone knows it’s not Cam.”
It’s definitely not me either. I can’t even remember if he found my person parts.
“Anyway,” Syn continued, oblivious to my internal crisis, “we’re all leaving for the beach house this weekend, and I know that’s going to be a complete disaster if those three don’t figure their shit out first.”
“Well, I’m staying out of it.” That, at least, was the absolute truth. I couldn’t talk to Owen until he dealt with his situationship status, and since I had zero memory of last night, as far as I was concerned, it never happened. Denial was my new life strategy.
“So what’s the plan today?” I was desperate to change topics before she saw through me completely.
“No plans.” She stretched. “I’m recovering from last night.”
“Perfect. I’m showering and then sleeping until Tuesday.” Or possibly forever, if that was an option.
“Why Tuesday?”
I shrugged. “I have class.”
She laughed, and I escaped to the bathroom, closing the door and finally letting myself breathe.
Stepping in front of the mirror, I stared at myself for a moment before noticing a mark on my neck.
I leaned forward. “Is that a freaking hickey?” I touched the spot with my fingertips.
It was definitely a hickey. Shit. “Well, at least things can’t get worse. ”
Famous last words.