Page 160 of Repairing the Wreckage

“Knock it the fuck off,” Griff says. “There was no connection.”

“Do you agree, Kiki?” Matt asks.

I blow out a relieved breath that his attention’s off of me.

“No, we definitely had a connection,” she says.

Naptime scowls at her and it’s the only thing that probably stops me from screaming.

“I thought so,” Matt continues, as if he’s ever had a serious thought in that empty plastic head of his. “Then things seemed to…fizzle. What happened there?”

Giff sits forward, drawing Matt’s attention. “Nothing happened.”

A low, interested hum moves through the audience.

“Molly?” Matt’s gaze locks onto me. “Do you believe that? Deep in your heart of hearts, did you always have faith in your man?”

“I…” My mind races. Everyone back home will know I’m a liar when they watch this. I steal a glance at Venom. Griff confided in him about what happened. He’ll know I’m lying too. Griff squeezes my hand, giving me courage.

“Of course,” I manage, my voice strained. “We have a true connection. We’ve known each other for years. I knew he wouldn’t do that.”

Liar, liar, liar. That’s what should have happened.

“Well, that is a relief!” Matt tips his head back, like he’s praising God.

“Of course I didn’t screw Stonewall.” Kiki tosses her hair over her shoulder and thrusts her chest forward.

Naptime rests his hand on her leg. “Thass right,” he slurs.

“Why would anyone think that?” she asks.

“Well, we had it right there in black-and-white.” Matt points to the screen, still frozen on that creepy overhead shot of the couple in bed.

“Thass me!” Naptime jumps off the couch and pounds one fist against his chest.

He seems oddly proud of those fifteen seconds of awkward, dull rutting under the covers.

Kiki reaches up and grabs Naptime’s hand, pulling him back to the seat next to her.

“Whatever connection we shared fizzled out because,” Kiki slants an evil glance our way, “once I knew he was one of those guys, I lost interest.”

Griff snorts.

“One of those guys?” Matt asks, a creepy lilt in his question.

She leans forward, staring into the audience like she’s trying to become besties with every one of them. “Everyone knows guys who only date virgins are always bad in bed, right?”

Cold shock seizes my insides.

A wild, collective gasp comes from the audience.

Griff’s hand tightens on mine.

Fuck. This. Bitch.

What should I do? Defend Griff? Defend myself? Run screaming from the stage?

I don’t want to discuss my sex life in front of all these people.

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