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“Foreplay?”
“No.”
“Making out?”
“No.”
“Dry-humping?”
“No.”
“What about some over-the-clothes touching?”
“No.”
“A sensual massage, which led to some kind of skin-on-skin contact, which then led to some kind of penetration?”
“No.”
“Dirty pillow talk?”
“No.”
“Playing footsie?”
“No.”
“What about some peeping Tom action when she was sleeping?”
“No.”
“Faked sexsomnia?”
“Fuck, you’re one sick man,” I say, pulling a sickened face as I reach for my gym bag.
“Anyone would think you’re a damn virgin,” he states, and his comment reminds me of Madison’s confession.
“Speaking of virgins…” I smugly declare while Hunter almost gags on his tongue.
“No? No fucking way,” he exclaims, shaking his head, not believing me.
“Yes,” I affirm with a nod. “She pretty much told me she was.”
“I am actually speechless right now. There are no words to convey how I’m currently feeling,” Hunter affirms, appearing to be in utter shock as he slumps down onto the bench seat.
“Good, let’s keep it that way,” I reply, zipping up my hoodie and shouldering my bag. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Wait, where’s the fire?” he asks, standing up.
“Besides in your pants?” I playfully counter, referring to his sordid night with Mandy and the possible diseases he’s caught from sleeping with her.
“Very funny, you tween.” He punches me in the arm. “Seriously, though, what’s the hurry?”
I failed to mention that Madison will be staying over for another “slumber party.” I also excluded the minor detail that Juliet will probably turn up on my doorstep unannounced and quite possibly naked. I didn’t reply to her text because I didn’t know what to say.
“Man, you really are a masochist,” Hunter says with a shake of his head, as he can obviously read my facial expressions. “You’re letting a chick, who will in no way put out ’cause she’s a damn virgin, and has a boyfriend, sleep in your bed…again. You’re the one who needs to see a shrink.”
I don’t argue with him on that.
