Page 88 of A Taste of Vanilla

“Oh my god.”

I turn toward the muffins. “Good morning to you too.”

“You had sex.”

I drop the spatula. It hits the ground with a wet slap.

“Marley.”

“You had sex.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She crosses her arms, staring at the spatula.

I stare at the spatula.

The spatula stares at no one because it’s covered in banana muffin batter and lacks eyes… but it kind of feels like it’s staring at me and judging the pierced-dick-sized secret I’m keeping.At least 8 inches. That’s a lot of secret.

“I mean,” I say carefully with a wince. “Define sex.”

Marley’s mouth falls open.

“Halston Smith.”

“Am I under oath?”

“You’re under friendship.”

“That sounds legally vague. I’m not sure about that.”

She points at me. “You slept with someone.”

I pick up the spatula and throw it in the sink.

“I may have engaged in some post-heartbreak physical wellness.”

Marley gasps, and a second later, a grin spreads over her stupid face.

“Who?”

I turn on the faucet and rinse my hands. “A man.”

“That narrows it down a ton.”

“A large man.”

“Better.”

“He had hair.”

“A lot of men have hair.”

“And shoulders.”

“Most men have shoulders, too.”

My eyes widen. “Not like these.”