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“He’s a hot football player, Zara. A quarterback. The starting quarterback. A senior. A reformed player, according to my brother. I know for a fact he would have…you know. Don’t torture me. I just want to know if orgasms live up to the hype.”
I laugh. At least I’m not the only late bloomer. I smooth a strand of her blond hair out of her eyes. “Orgasms more than live up to the hype.”
Her eyes get wide. “They do?”
I bite my lip, nodding.
“How…many?”
“Three,” I whisper.
She squeals and scrunches her face up, kicking her feet under the covers. “I knew it! I’m just pissed off you beat me to it.”
We laugh and it feels good to have shared my dirty little secret a.k.a. the best thing that’s ever happened to me in my goddamn life. Even if it was a one-off. “You can’t tell anyone, Isla. Not a single word about any of this. Promise me.”
“Of course I won’t.”
“Especially not Gabriel.”
“As if I’m going to discuss orgasms with my brother,” she scoffs, mildly disgusted.
“Or Jake,” I add.
“As if.” She rolls her eyes, but the dreamy look is back.
“It can’t happen again, Isla. My dad will literally kick him off the team and possibly get him thrown out of Hawthorne altogether. No one can find out about this.”
“Your secret’s safe with me, Zara. For real.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you sure you can’t see him again? Would you want to?”
“I don’t know.” Of course you would.
She reads my thoughts. “We have to tell each other the truth. We’re roommates. It’s our word and our bond. Now tell me. Would you?”
I shrug. Then I grin despite myself. “He really is hot.”
We fall into fits of laughter and it’s cathartic. “Hotter up close and personal, I bet,” she says, when we can finally breathe again.
“I’ve never met anyone who’s so…ideal. There’s not a single thing that’s not buff and hot and perfect about him. Except maybe that he’s wildly romantic, in a really over-the-top kind of way.”
“Like how?”
“He’s just…nice. He told me I was his dream girl.”
Isla stares at me, half-shocked and half-swooning. “He did?”
“Yeah. Crazy, right? We only met each other, like, two days ago. At first I thought it was just a line but…the way he said it…I don’t know.”
My heart literally aches and it takes me a second to figure out why.
I miss him.
She’s watching me, still starstruck by my confession. She’s tuning into the fact that my entire space-time continuum has shifted. You don’t experience something like that without reaching a kind of enlightenment. The colors of the early morning seem brighter. My body feels fully, feverishly alive.
I lay back and stare up at the ceiling, focusing on a red Wildcats banner Isla stuck up there. Not the reminder I need right now. “Either way, we can’t be together, even if we wanted to be. My dad is ridiculously overprotective. And he’s always told me that football players—especially his—are a total no-go zone.”
