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“The house is huge. We don’t know who’s there half the time, and anyway, it’s not our house.” Willow’s dad chuckles. “It’s my cousin’s. But they invite guests all the time. They don’t mind a few extra showing up.”
“Do we have to run it by the headmaster?” Dad asks.
Oh shit. Westscott has been riding my ass hard all week and I don’t need him messing up my opportunity. He better let us go.
“I’ll talk to Westscott,” Crew Lancaster says. “He’ll okay it.”
He says this with such authority, my entire body relaxes. And when I glance over at Will, she’s already watching me, trying to hide a smile.
Looks like it’s going to be an interesting weekend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Willow
“Please, I’m begging you. Whatever you end up doing with Rhett, don’t do it in here,” Iris says as we enter her bedroom and she turns on the lamp on her dresser.
I head straight for my bed, flopping on top of the mattress so hard, I swear I bounce. “Like I would. We haven’t even kissed yet.” “That’s coming, you know. And once that happens, forget it.” Iris mimics me, draping her body across her bed.
Rolling over on my side to face her, I prop my elbow on the bed and rest my head on my fist. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean when you guys finally kiss, and it’s so good your toes curl and you’re scared you might come on the spot just from his freaking lips, watch out. It’s all you’re going to want to do. And you won’t want to stop. He’ll touch your boobs and you’ll let him. He’ll slip his fingers under your clothes and you won’t deny him. He’ll push his fingers inside your panties and you’ll beg for more.” Iris sounds like she’s speaking from experience while I’m over here blushing just from her words.
“I don’t know … that sounds awfully fast.” The idea of any of that used to scare me, but now?
I can’t help but find it exciting because it’s with Rhett.
“You won’t even care. He’ll take your virginity and you won’t even realize it’s happening until he pushes inside of you.”
“Iris!” I sit up, staring at her. “What are you trying to tell me?”
A sigh leaves her as she sits up too, tossing her head back to stare up at the intricate crown molding on the ceiling, her hands braced on the mattress. “I suppose I’m saying I’m not a virgin anymore.”
“When did this happen?” My brain scrambles to come up with the scenario, but I don’t know. I’ve been holed up in my room nightly this past week. Either doing homework or studying or staring at the wall thinking about Rhett.
“A few nights ago, in my room.”
“In your room? You snuck Brooks into your room?” How did I miss this?
“How do you know I lost it to Brooks?”
I gape at her, unable to speak. She leaves me hanging for seconds that feel like hours until she finally bursts out laughing, grabbing a pillow and rolling around on top of her bed like an evil little gremlin.
“You’re the worst,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“You know who’s not?” She doesn’t give me enough time to answer. “Brooks. That boy is too good. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”
“Are you finally going to put him out of his misery and make your relationship public?” I ask, already knowing what her answer is.
“It’s not a relationship, so there’s nothing to make public. I’m still leaning heavily into the illicit affair label.”
“Iris …”
“What?” She sits up again, pushing her hair out of her face. “You can’t judge me, Willow, because you don’t know what it’s like. You’re in the early stages with Rhett while I’m over here thinking about how I can get Brooks back into my bed.”
I remain quiet, mulling over what she’s saying. Knowing she doesn’t want my opinion. She just wants to get her feelings out.
“How does he feel about it?” I finally ask.
