Page 53 of Sizzle

“And for some seriously fucked up reason, I didn’t leave.”

She’s not speaking and it’s killing me to wait, so I sneak a glance up at her face.

“Tell me what you’re thinking. Please,” I beg.

Her color is high, breathing shallow, eyes unfocused. It doesn’t register as anger to me.

“Did you do it too?”

My face burns hot.

“Yes.”

“Did you… Did you touch him?”

“What? No.”

“Did he touch you?”

I’m blushing so hard I think my eyebrows might catch fire. “No. At least, not like you mean.”

“Did you want him to?”

I turn away, pulling my hand from hers because I was wrong. I can’t do this. But Joelle doesn’t let me run away. She puts her soft hand to my cheek and gently turns my face back to hers.

“Tell me, Elliot.”

It’s a whisper in the dark. I trust her. Nobody else has to know.

“Yes.”

She’s kissing me then, pressing against me as hard as she can with the hard plastic console between us. When she pulls back both of us are gasping, her hand still cupping my cheek as she leans her forehead against mine.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she whispers. “I don’t know if I would be that brave, in your shoes.”

I don’t feel brave. I feel foolish and exposed and verging on collapse. And—oh, the irony—all I want to do is talk to Alex because I know he’ll know what to do. Alex always knows what to do.

Except I can’t do that now. Not with this.

I must have said this out loud, because Joelle’s settling back to her seat and giving me a stern look.

“I’m not going to tell you that you have to, Elliot,” she says. It damn near guts me when I realize she sounds disappointed. “But I think you should tell him the truth.”

“Because that’s going to go over real well, telling my best friend that I—that I—” I shake my head. I can’t even say the words.

“Hang on,” I say. “Doesn’t this bother you?”

“What?”

“This whole conversation,” I say. “We’re talking about me and Alex—”

Words fail me once again, but Joelle doesn’t.

“We’re talking about you and Alex having a sexual relationship, is that it?” she says. “About you touching him, and him touching you, and—”

“You can stop there,” I hiss, raising a hand to cut her off before my zipper explodes. “I get it, okay, yes. That is what we’re talking about.”

“Do you know what it does to me, hearing that?” Joelle closes her eyes. “It’s like every fantasy I’ve ever had rolled up and gift wrapped in the world’s most beautiful box. Times five.”

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