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After all, I made this choice knowing what might happen.
Knowing I might get hurt.
I already know how this ends.
I keep everything to myself.
I can't even tell my sister. How would I ever tell him?
Why?
I guess that's clarity. It's not smart, diving in head-first, but I'm tired of doing the smart thing.
And if I fall, well—
I've picked myself up after worse.
ChapterTwelve
PATRICK
This is not an ideal situation.
Imogen is downstairs, and I'm here, hiding in the bathroom, clinging to every word from my online crush.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
There's a gorgeous woman downstairs, a woman who wants to fuck me senseless.
Who only wants to fuck me senseless.
It's obvious. I want the honesty and intimacy I feel when I readHearts and Thorn'sposts.
I want to be someone's confidant.
I want to understand.
All this time and I still don't understand—
But it's not like I'm going to figure it out now.
Imogen is here and she needs satisfaction.
Sure, we're never going to be best friends, but we are lovers. A certain kind of lovers. And this type of intimacy is plenty thrilling on its own.
She's open here.
Vulnerable here.
Sexy as hell here.
Less pouting. More making her come.
I leave my cell on my dresser and I move downstairs.
"Hey." She watches me descend. "Did you fall back asleep?"
"Brushing my teeth." Not a total lie.
