Page 47 of The Devil and His Sparrow

She covered her face with her hands and peeked at me between her parted fingers. “I went on a date.”

My eyes doubled in size, and I leaned forward to grab her hands to pull them off her face. “What?” I squeaked, bringing out my inner boiling teapot.

She blushed. Actually blushed. I’d never seen Nahla blush.

My heart raced for a whole new reason now as the fear slipped away and excitement took its place.

“You went on a date?” I asked in a string of words. “This morning? With who?”

“Do you remember Iseul? The girl we met at the Sinners Do It Better VIP party?”

Iseul. She’d been the quieter of her trio of friends, the one with the black bob. She’d also been the one Nahla had been eating out while getting pummeled from behind by Dante.

I flashed her a knowing smirk. “I remember.”

She laughed. “Yeah, well, she and I hit it off. Obviously. We exchanged numbers and have been talking ever since. We went to the movies last night and got coffee this morning.”

I shoved her in the arm. “How could you not tell me this was happening, you jerk?”

She ducked her head and fiddled with the lid of her coffee cup. “I know. I just wasn’t sure, yet. You know me. I don’t do dates. I don’t do serious. But Iseul … she’s different. She … makes me happy. Really happy.”

I squealed and threw my arms around Nahla, overjoyed to hear how great this new person in her life made her feel. It also made me think about the new person in my life and how I’d not divulged that information to her. But how did I explain it? Zagan and I weren’t dating by any means. I wasn’t even sure if we were friends. We were more like business partners—each offering the other a service in exchange for something.

But I definitely couldn’t say that.

My phone buzzed then. Nahla and I looked at it at the same time, and when I unlocked my phone, I saw a text from an unknown number. His number. I’d forgotten to save it as anything.

?: Come over.

Nahla grabbed my phone and pulled it closer to her face. “Who is this?” She scrolled to see the previous messages before I could snatch it back. “Why do they have a photo—” Her eyes widened. “‘Let’s fuck.’” She dropped the phone to the counter and grabbed my arms with a strength wrestlers would be envious of. “Iyla Marie Winters, who the hell is that, and why are they asking to fuck?”

I cringed.

Nice timing, Zagan.

“I-I wasn’t sure what it was, yet,” I said carefully, repeating her own explanation to me. “I still don’t, to be honest.”

She held up a manicured finger to stop my words. “Are you telling me you lost your fucking V-card, and you didn’t tell me?”

Guilt pricked at my insides. Even if I didn’t know how to explain what happened between Zagan and I that night, I should’ve told Nahla. We shared everything with each other, yet I’d kept something huge from her.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized softly. “I wasn’t sure how to say it. Just like how you don’t date, I don’t do … that. I think I’ve been too afraid to say it out loud. Like if I do, I’m somehow admitting my shortcomings to Mom, even if she isn’t here to hear me.”

Nahla squeezed my hand. “Babe, there is nothing wrong with what you choose to do with your body. If you want to have sex as the adult that you are, you can do that.”

My throat clogged with emotion, and I found it too hard to speak. I nodded so she knew I heard her, but I wasn’t sure if I believed it. Not when my mom had taught me how wrong it was or how dirty it made me to want or like those things.

“I know it must’ve taken a lot of courage for you to do it,” Nahla continued. “So I won’t hold it against you for not telling me. This time. But you better tell me every detail from here on out. Starting with who this is.” She tapped her finger on my locked phone.

I nibbled my lip nervously, because that was going to be yet another huge shock for her. I decided the best way to tell her was to just come out and say it, like ripping off a band-aid. “It’s Zagan.”

She stared at me, completely frozen. Seconds ticked by, and she still hadn’t moved. I started to fear I’d broken her when she finally blinked and said, “Come again?”

I nodded like I, too, struggled to understand it. “It’s Zagan.”

“Zagan,” she repeated, sounding each syllable out like the name didn’t make sense on her tongue. “As in, Sinners Do It Better?”

I swallowed and bobbed my head once.

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