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There was nothing first-kiss-like about it. Nothing tentative orexploratory.
It was a raw truth, a moment of weakness I saw reflected back at me. As if two people who normally had their shit together could find solace for a few seconds in a darkenedcar.
She welcomed me, opened under the crush of my mouth. I dragged her across the car and into my lap. It was every bit of wild desperation in me, crude andangry.
If a few seconds was good, a few minutes had to bebetter.
She was fire in my arms, clawing at me as if she was just as needy as Iwas.
I didn’t have to justify this or explain it. I dragged her shirt over her head, and she moaned against my mouth as I stroked her sides, her breasts. I was hard for her, grinding against the soft spot between her thighs I suddenly wanted more than my nextbreath.
Her hands were on my zipper as if she wanted thattoo.
“You sure?” I rasped as she worked my jeans down, me shifting tohelp.
Her tight nod had my abs clenching harder. “Yeah. I’m on thepill.”
This is wrong.A voice that sounded like mine echoed somewhere deep in mymind.
But it was too late. She shifted over me, taking me inside her on a longstroke.
I understood the appeal of casual hookups when everyone was on the same page, but this felt more complex, and the feelings ricocheting through me weren’t about sexual gratification. It was as if she had the same emotional brittleness, the same fragile pride masquerading asstrength.
Before tonight, I’d never been tempted by her advances, but from the moment she’d turned to look at me tonight, something had changed. I couldn't hold heraway.
What changed was the world fucked you over when you weren’tlooking.
“Ben. Oh myGod.”
My hands tangled in her hair, stroking a thumb down her cheek, the line of her jaw. I thrust up into her, needing to take her like she needed me. Needing to forget everything that wasn’tthis.
“Fuck,Vi.”
She stiffened, pulling back to stare atme.
Something was wrong. Awfully, horriblywrong.
When my heart was still hammering against my ribs, she shifted off me, straightening her clothes. “This was amistake.”
“Wait.”
But she was out of the car and across the parking garage before I couldargue.
17
The morningafter I slept with Vi, I woke in my car—where I'd fallen asleep—to a call that I could see my mom in thehospital.
By the time I returned to school the next semester, Vi wasgone.
Daisy, though… Daisy wasthere.
And I gradually realized what I wished I’d known all along—that she was the one who called to me, who got me, who I connectedwith.
I was too disgusted with myself to do a thing about it other than be her friend, living in the fallout of sleeping with her twin, of losing control to chase something that could never satisfyme.
It was a lesson inweakness.
I’d never pursue an emotion promised by intimacy, fleeting orotherwise.
