I knew I needed to take Maddie’s advice and just tell him that I wanted to have sex with him. But in the midst of all the other stress, the idea of him rejecting me was enough to send me to the brink of a panic attack.
And I was genuinely beginning to think that he would reject me. He never pushed for more. Never even asked.
I kept reminding myself that it could be worse. We had a good thing going. If I opened my big mouth and made things weird, Tripp might end it. And there was no way I would’ve made it through the week without him.
That didn’t account for why I didn’t say something right then. Except I was finally done with the semester and too mentally and physically exhausted to think.
And also, I didn’t want to.
Instead, I responded to his random Christmas countdown with a deadpan, “I hadn’t noticed anytime I walked into a store or checked my phone or turned on the TV or looked literally anywhere.”
The constant reminder of the joyful holiday that centered around family and togetherness was being shoved down my throat.
It was depressing.
But not as depressing as him sliding his thumb from me. I thought I was about to catch hell for my flippant attitude.
Wishful thinking since I liked his version of a punishment.
“Spend the day with me.” Tripp’s words weren’t a request, but I still shook my head.
“I’m spending a couple of days with my mom, remember?” I was hoping that would include some time with Wren, Maddie, and the OGs since some movie time would guarantee more than tears from Mom. Like my friends, hers were great at making her laugh. Not to mention, I had gifts for Wren and Maddie.
I had a gift for Tripp, too, but I hadn’t decided if I was going to give him the corny thing.
“I know,” he said. “I’ll come, too.”
I grimaced on his behalf. “You don’t want to do that. With my parents impending divorce, it’ll be a mess of tears. A lot of tears.”
Yet still the understatement of the century.
I’d shared with Tripp that my parents had split up, but I’d never gone into the details of why. Mostly because I worked hard to compartmentalize the whole situation into a tiny box.
A box I then lit on fire and mentally danced around so I wouldn’t have to deal with it.
I knew that he would eventually find out. I was honestly surprised that my dad’s scandal hadn’t hit the local news circuit for a lap or two. But that good fortune couldn’t last forever.
“I’m good with tears.” My body heated inappropriately at that because of how he’d used my tears, but he kept going. “And I make a strong cocktail that helps them.”
I was tempted. More than tempted. I shook my head anyway. “Don’t you have dinner with your dad?”
I’d overheard enough of a stilted phone call to gather that much.
“I’ll blow it off.”
“I’m sure that would be a hardship for you, and I appreciate the offer, but it is probably not a good idea.”
He studied me for a moment before turning his attention back to the movie.
That time, with no thumb.
And I pretended to watch as I tried not to regret my decision.
It’s for the best.
Mom needs some time with me.
Well, I guessMom doesn’t need time with me, after all.
