5
Demi
“Whoa… shit… dammit.”
As my hands shoot up to cover my eyes, my cheeks turn the color of beets. I guess this is what Maddox meant when he said Sloane wouldn’t be waiting for me to arrive with an angry scowl and the expectance of a bag full of sugar. She’s mad, all right, but it has nothing to do with me ditching her at my uncle’s gym yesterday afternoon.
She’s pissed I walked in on her and Saint getting freaky in the kitchen.
Thekitchenof all places!
I eat in there.
“I’ll… umm… go… ah… to my room.”
Why do I sound like I’m twelve? I’ve seen women naked before—many of them thanks to the ones forced to prance around my uncle’s house like his wrinkled face doesn’t make them want to barf. I’ve just never faced the jungle-like vine Saint is swinging around like Tarzan.
Don’t read that the wrong way. I’ve seen penises before, nearly as many as I have vaginas. They just weren’t as long as Saint’s and nowhere near as handsome.
Wind it back in, Demi, you’re getting off track.
The size of the guy’s penis I lost my virginity to made it seem as if I didn’t lose my virginity. Theoneman I’ve been with since could have fixed the injustice if he had comeafterremoving his penis from his trunks.
There, now you knowallmy sexual history.
I bet you’re feeling sorry for me, aren’t you?
It’s okay. I’d rather your pity than share a story similar to how many women in my uncle’s industry lose their virginities. My sexual escapades have been via my choice. Many others, including my mother’s, were not. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather face a dud in the bedroom than a man who paid for the privilege.
I’ve barely released a frustrated sob into my pillow when the patter of tiny feet filters into my ears. I’m not angry about Sloane’s adventurous locations to have sex. I’m annoyed that the first thought that popped into my head when I stumbled onto their antics was that I could have been doing that with Maddox right now if I weren’t such a chicken. I’ve never wanted something more in my life, yet I left him standing on the footpath like a loser.
I’d hate myself if my dislike of my uncle left any room for self-loathing.
Mistaking my sob as annoyance about her sexual exploits, Sloane asks, “Exactlyhow much did you see?”
When I sling my eyes to my door, she props her shoulder on the doorjamb. She’s wearing more clothes than she was moments ago, but nowhere near enough to be classed as decent.
A grin tugs my lips higher when my stink eye causes her to forcefully swallow. “Thatmuch?”
I prop myself onto my elbows before increasing my glare. It’s all an act, but I’m happy for her to think otherwise. “Let me be clear. I’m. Never. Eating. Cucumber. Again.”
“With your mouth orother parts of your body?” Her last five words fly out of her kiss-swollen lips with a girlie, high-pitched laugh.
When I gag, she pushes off her feet and races my way. The smell of sweat-slicked hair and skin teems into my nose when she swan dives onto my mattress like she’s diving into the pool at her family mansion. “Saint is—”
“Inventive with salad, pegs, and… was that your nanna’s scarf I saw?”
Sloane barges me with her shoulder. “It was.” After waggling her brows long enough to award herself a brand-new wrinkle, she asks, “So how about you? How was Maddox?”
I stiffen like a board. “Umm...”
In less than a nanosecond, her face goes from playful to stern. “Don’t play Ms. Innocent Act with me, missy. Everyone was talking about how he raced out after you. I wouldn’t be surprised if your cousins in New York have heard about it by now.”
She’s being playful.
Unfortunately, I’m not close to laughing.
“Everyone saw me with Maddox?”
