Page 47 of A Little Secret

Her eyes fall to my mouth before flicking back to my gaze, and she pulls away from my touch, gutting me in the process.

“We should start driving,” she whispers. “It’s a long way back.”

The clickingof the blinker finally does me in. It’s been four hours. Four fucking hours of silence. By now, it’s burrowed under my skin, leaving me raw and itchy and uncomfortable and frustrated. So fucking frustrated. Part of me wants to turn the car around. To barge into Drew’s place, drag him out by his polo, and beat the ever loving shit out of him. Honestly, imagining it has been the best way to pass the time since drowning in Finley’s silence wasn’t flying. After the shit he said to Fin, he’d deserve every single hit. He’s lucky he’s still breathing. I fist the steering wheel, imagining all the ways I could kill him if we lived in a world without consequences.

“How do you get rid of a body?” I ask.

Her glassy eyes shoot to me. “What?”

“I said, how do you get rid of a body?” My eyes shoot to hers for a quick second then return to the crowded freeway. “You’re the criminal mastermind, not me.”

Her lips twitch. “Are you offering to kill Drew for me?”

I nod. “Happily. Do you think limb by limb is too gruesome, or should I just hit him with my car?”

A pathetic laugh slips out of her, and she wipes beneath her eyes. “I think limb by limb sounds pretty good right about now, actually.”

“I can do that.” I give her a smile. “Although, you’ll have to help me get rid of the evidence.”

“Another pro to ripping him into pieces,” she offers. “You know, since he won’t be so heavy, and I’ll actually be able to contribute physically.”

With a rumble of laughter, I reach across the center console and squeeze her knee. “I like your thinking.”

Staring at my hand on her knee, she whispers, “Can I ask you something?”

I nod. “Anything.”

“Who was your first?”

My brows stitch. “My first?”

“Yeah, your, uh, your first…taco.”

“Taco?” I hesitate until her meaning sinks in, and my eyes widen. “You mean who’s the first girl I had sex with?”

She nods.

I laugh a little louder and let her knee go. We’ve talked about sexual stuff in the past. I mean, what else would you expect after a few beers and games like Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever. But like this? Without our friends around and no one to buffer the situation? It’s new, and I’m not sure what to make of it.

Scrubbing my hand over my face, I’m caught betweenmy own curiosity and the line we’ve drawn in the sand when it comes to all things sexual long before this road trip. “You really want to know?”

She shrugs but stays quiet.

“Seriously?”

“You’re right. It’s a stupid question.”

“Not a stupid question,” I argue. “Just a…surprising one.” I give her the side-eye and find her stormy gaze focused solely on me. Like she’s hanging on to my every word. The silence drives me crazy. Part of me wants to pry. To ask the why behind her off-the-wall question. The other part? I guess I’m just grateful she’s not still consumed by her conversation with Drew.

With a smirk, I answer, “My first was Jenna…Ortega.”

She smacks my shoulder. “I’m being serious!”

“Hey, you’re the one who said she had kissable lips. No need to be jealous.”

Rolling her still-watery eyes, she mutters, “Whatever. Forget I asked.”

“All right, all right,” I concede, determined to keep her talking instead of silently losing her shit in my passenger seat. “My first really was named Jenna, though.”

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