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“I…I thought you two were already sleeping together?”
She shakes her head. “No. Not since I left for school.”
“Youweresleeping with him though? Before?”
She pulls a big pink suitcase out from underneath the bed and opens it, leaving it gaping in the center of the room. “Yeah.” She stills for a long moment, and I know she’s thinking back. “Just once. And it took me ages to get him to look my way.” She throws a random bunch of underwear into her suitcase. “Feels like I’ve been hounding after him all my life.”
“He’s older, right?”
“Only by ten years.” She shrugs. “He never touched me until I was eighteen, and, even then, I practically threw myself at him.” She smiles, that little touch of wicked brewing. “I stripped naked in his workshop and waited for him to get back.”
“Holy crap. Really?” It sounds like fun. Having someone you’d want to put on a demonstration for. I’ve never been that invested.
“Yeah. Only problem was that he came back with his little brother.”
“Oh, no!”
Lyla starts giggling uncontrollably. “It was so embarrassing.” She raises her hand to her face at the memory, still mortified by it all these years later. “Rye basically tackled Luke.” As her giggles turn to guffaws, she holds her stomach and doubles over. “He’s like…lying on top of Luke and threatening murder if he doesn’t close his eyes. I’m scrambling to find my clothes. Luke, who’s practically my best friend, is on the floor under Rye, howling with laughter.” She swipes at her eyes and exhales a long, “Ahhhh.”
“But it worked?”
She disappears back into her closet. “Not that time. He kissed me and then panicked and sent me home after a good scolding. But the third time…” She pokes her head out to wink at me, “third time’s always the charm.”
“Thirdtime?”
“I’ve only ever wanted him.” There is no shame in her voice when she says it. “Since I was nine years old, and he and Luke moved in with their grandma next door. I saw him standing outside, hands on hips, looking up at the trailer like he’d just landed in the world’s biggest shit hole. And that was it for me. Maybe it was puppy love, at first. You know? The little girl hoping to be rescued by the good-looking guy next door. But my love grew with me.”
I have so many questions. Like,why did you leave for the East Coast? Why are you escorting? Why aren’t you together anymore?But when she comes out with an armful of rumpled clothes and plops on the floor to fold them into her suitcase, I find that I can’t ask any of them. She’s sad just then. It’s like I can see her memories stealing into her mind and replacing the joy there.
“Well,” I choose the coward’s way out, “you have a week to do it.”
“Speaking of things we shouldn’t do,” Lyla deftly changes the subject.
Crap.
Looking up at me, she asks, “Are you going to tell me about last night?”
I open my mouth to lie.
“Don’t tell me nothing happened,” she insists. “I could tell by the look on your face last night that something changed.”
“Ugh.” Putting my coffee on her nightstand, I grab one of her pillows and hide my stupid grin in it. I’m so lame. I can’t evenpretendI didn’t have a good time.
“Thatgood?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
I peek at her over the pillow. “He took me up an abandoned high rise to see the city lights at night.”
“Okay. And then you banged?”
I don’t verbally answer; I just shake my head.
“Youdidn’tbang?” She looks confused.
“Don’t saybang. And no, we didn’t.”
