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Maisie hugged Bonnie tighter and when Cal’s head popped above them in the doorway, my own relief was palpable.
“We need you downstairs Virgil.”
I gave a quick nod, checked that my boner was gone and stood. “Gotta go, babe.” I pressed a quick kiss to her mouth and laid a hand on Bonnie’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry about your loss, Bonnie. Death fucking sucks.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, it does. Thank you again, Virgil, for saving my best friend.” She paused awkwardly and then wrapped her arms tightly around my waist for just a second. “I’m so grateful to you.” She let go and clung to Maisie again.
“Be careful,” Maisie mouthed to me just before I ducked out of the room.
I nodded because I would be extra careful. Because now that I had someone to come back to, I sure as shit wanted to come back and see what would happen next.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Maisie
“Did you know that my parents only allowed me to date Wyatt because he’s from a good Irish Catholic family, which is code for well-connected Catholics?”
Bonnie leaned forward trying for a whisper and failing miserably. “His father’s a state senator and he is, was, a trust fund kid.”
She shook her head but even in the moonlight, I could see the tears slip down her cheeks.
We were in one of the many little private outdoor seating areas located on Ashby Manor property, enjoying the warm desert breeze and a bottle of Irish Whiskey the cook offered up after one look at Bonnie’s red face.
“I had no idea. Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“It’s embarrassing,” she insisted and poured another glug into her glass and knocked it back.
“They knew all about his DUI’s, the drugs and even the whores. But since it wasn’t public knowledge, it wasn’t ‘real’,” she said and lifted her fingers in air quotes.
I let out a long breath as her words sank in. “That’s fucked up, Bon.”
She nodded. And hiccupped. “Totally fucked up.”
I gasped at her unexpected curse. “Bonnie, you rebel,” I teased and she managed an almost laugh.
“Is this just a party for two?” Kat appeared with four fancy crystal tumblers in one hand, a carafe of amber liquid in the other. Sadie was right beside her, a decanter in her hand.
“The more, the merrier,” Bonnie said a little too loud and then snorted as she poured way too much whiskey into her glass. “It’s not like you’ve ever seen me at my best anyway. I might not even have a best. Fuck my best. I don’t even care anymore.”
“Chin up, girl, we all have a best. Some of us just have to go through hell to find it.” Sadie’s lips parted into a sparing smile as she lined up the four tumblers and carefully filled them with liquid.
Bonnie snorted again, her courage and anger growing with each drink. “There are so many fucking rules. Who I can and can’t date or hang out with. They didn’t want us to be friends, but they were okay to hitch me to a drunken junkie whoremonger!”
She took another sip before Sadie pried the glass from her hand.
“They’re hypocrites and now I’m an almost twenty-two-year-old virgin. Can you believe it?”
“Totally,” Kat said with a laugh before she realized her mistake.
“Sorry but, no offense, you’re just uptight. Really uptight. Like you’ve never known the joy of being fucked. It’ll loosen you right up, make it easier to think clearly. Trust me.”
Again, Kat spoke with authority and I thought she must have a very satisfying sex life.
Bonnie’s gaze shifted to Sadie, who she obviously saw as the authority on all things. Sadie nodded.
“Sometimes sex is just a physical release. Sometimes it can be so much more than that. A means of control. A tether. A drug. A prison. Heaven.” Sadie was lost for a minute and I wondered who she was thinking of in that moment. “It should be whatever you need it to be,” she said, casting a wise glance at each of us. “Always.”
Bonnie nodded. “What if I need it to be special?”
Bonnie’s parents had made her believe sex was sacred and they heaped on all the Catholic guilt they could, screwing her up even more than the rest of us.
“Then make it special.” Sadie pulled out a small tin that contained rolling papers and the most fragrant pot I’d ever smelled.
“Don’t rely on men to know what you feel or tell you what to feel. If you want a special sexual adventure, create it, and find the man to help you fulfill the fantasy. Don’t build the fantasy around him.”
Her fingers moved deftly, sprinkling the ground herbs between the thin sheet of paper and rolling it up like an expert. She looked up and pointed at Bonnie. “You are the fucking fantasy.”
“Is that…marijuana?” Bonnie eyed the joint like it was a poisonous snake.
