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“And? What were they like?”
“They…” Dammit. I can feel my face heating up in embarrassment and something like nerves fluttering in my stomach. I can’t say too much. I wasn’t planning to. But even faced with the possibility of saying it, it hits me just how absurd the whole thing is.
What if Iamcrazy? What if they were keeping up the act to mess with me and special effects really are all it ever was? That makes no sense. They would’ve needed tracking projectors and all sorts of equipment, yet it was flawless in a way that would be impossible to replicate with anything so crude as that. I amintimatelyaware, after all. Their strength, how utterly otherworldly they were. That’s something that couldn’t possibly be a mere fabrication.
But what if it was all in my head?
What if someone really spiked my drink at the concert that night, and it took a while to kick in? Even that seems more reasonable than demons. Or what if I’m completely delusional?
Yet the cut on my cheek is real. The hickeys all over my neck are real. The numbers they gave me were real because I’ve been texting them since.
“Shannon?”
“It’s still just… surreal.” I shake my head, trying to snap myself out of it. “They were incredible, but it all feels like a dream. I can hardly believe it happened.”
Grace laughs gently. “Well, did you get a photo with them? An autograph?”
“Huh? Oh. I didn’t even think about that.”
“Shannon! Seriously? You met them and got nothing?”
“I was flustered and distracted,” I defend. “It honestly never occurred to me.”
“So, what did you do? Did you get to talk to them much?”
The opening is right there. Grace has given me an out. All I need to say is we talked, but my traitorous mind vividly reminds me of what else we did. Of their lips, their touch all over me, the feel of them fucking me.
I swallow. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, flushing my face into a deep crimson. “Um. Yeah. We talked a bunch.”
Of course, she notices. Grace slowly raises an eyebrow. “Just talking? Shannon, honey, what did youdo?”
That only makes me blush even harder. The rest of the break room is empty, thankfully. There’s no one around to overhear, but I still don’t know if I should admit to the truth.
Grace solves that dilemma for me. “Tell me you didn’t seriously do the groupie thing.”
“I didn’tmeanto!”
“Oh my God, youdid.”
I bury my face in my hands, trying to hide my shame. But even as embarrassed as I am, it feels so good to say anything about it at all. It comes out in a rush. “I mean, wetalkeda lot first too. They took me out to dinner, and we were there for hours. They were so much nicer to me than they needed to be and so goddamn gorgeous. I can’t describe what they’re really like. Like, I can’t. It doesn’t even feel real, but…” I hesitate just a fraction of a second, wondering if I’m really going to be so crudely forward as to finish the sentence the way I want to, “… the dick certainly was.”
Grace shrieks. “Girl!”
Her reaction makes me laugh, setting my nerves at ease a little. It’s so much more normal, more human, to just gossip about it instead of worrying so much.
“Wait, wait. You said you met EliasandCaelan. Did you like… with both?”
I nod in confirmation.
“Shannon, Christ! It’s always the quiet ones, huh? God, you’ve beengetting someand only now you’re spilling the beans?”
“Stop!” I say, half laughing, half embarrassed. “Just don’t call me out on it like that.”
Grace shakes her head but quiets down. As she settles, the initial shock fading, her tone turns serious. “Okay, but listen. As your friend and someone who worries about you, you were safe, right? And they didn’t pressure you into anything? I know how some of those goddamn Hollywood pricks can be—”
“No,” I immediately cut off. “I wanted it. And, yeah, we were safe.”
I’m damn sure you could fry an egg on my face by this point.
