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Only Brylee would use the word nookie for hot sex. Sometimes I wonder if she’s still a virgin. “Bry, I need your advice.”
“And… the world is ending.” She looks pleased, though, as she leans back. “Tell Bry everything.”
I hesitate. Can you blame me, after this intro? “Can’t we just drink hot chocolate and watch videos on YouTube? There’s one of the Supernatural epic funny fails you haven’t seen yet.”
At some point we were the Supernatural Girls. Then Bry decided to go after real-life men and left me alone with my fantasies.
“You don’t want to talk about your semi-real boyfriends?”
“Nah.”
“Pity.” She leans forward. “Did I tell you what I found out about Joel Kingsley?”
Um… “What? Why were you looking into him in the first place?”
“Remember I told you about this scandal he was involved in a year ago?”
It rings a faint bell. “Bry…” Not sure I want to hear about Joel’s scandal right now. Or think about him and Jet, period.
“It was a picture of him,” Brylee says, obviously not noticing my pained tone. “Jacking off with two girls. Guess who one of them was?”
“Who?” Dread is curling in my stomach.
“Ellen Davenport. Guess all that pretending she didn’t want him was all for show. He slept with her all right.”
I feel sick. He told me… What did he say? That he’d never even kissed Ellen.
He lied to me. What else did he lie about? And I know it sounds hypocritical when I’m debating which parts of the truth to tell them, but God… I’m debating whether to tell them how long I’ve wanted them, while he lied about wanting Ellen, about having sex with her.
Who’s to say he isn’t still seeing her?
“Know what?” I hop off the bed and head toward the kitchen. “Hot chocolate won’t cut it tonight. We need something stronger.”
Chapter Twenty Three
JOEL
In my dream, Jet is lying still, too still, in a growing pool of blood. I try to wake him up, but he won’t. He can’t.
Again I wake up drenched in cold sweat, my heart pounding.
This is fucking nuts.
Like always, I pad over to his room to check on him. When I see his chest rising and falling, I relax.
This has to stop.
I come awake, not sure why, and now I can’t go back to sleep. My goddamn brain won’t rest.
Normally after mind-blowing sex like I’ve just had tonight with Candy and Jet I drop like a rock—but between the newness of this threesome thing, Candy’s admission and sudden flight… Yeah, with all that plus my worry about work and the uneasy feeling I get when I’m there, it’s no wonder my sleep is shot.
At least I didn’t dream of Jet dying this time.
Throwing the covers off me, I pad to the bathroom to drink some water and take a piss. Maybe I’ll watch some TV until I fall asleep on the couch. I’d read, but I’m too tired to focus on actual words.
My plan goes to hell when I enter the living room and find someone sprawled on the sofa already, the TV playing on mute.
“Jet?” I prepare to shove him over and demand he make space for me, when I realize his eyes are closed.
