Page 175 of Forbidden Lessons

STFU

“Shut the fuck up.” I roll my eyes up at her. “And?”

“Take…?”

I stare down at the letters. “Take?”

She points at the next letter. “That.”

“That.”

“Come on, Haven, you know this.” She starts tapping on the D.

“Down? Dog?” Because apparently I’m fluent in yoga.

“Dick!” she yells, tapping harder. “Dick!”

“Dick?”

“Oh my God.” She runs her hand along the sticker, rambling off the acronym like a word champion speed reader. “Shut the fuck up and take that dick like a good girl!”

She slaps the countertop. “Like a good girl, Haven! Like a good girl!”

I laugh so hard that blueberries almost come out of my nose. I can’t breathe. “That’s what it says?” I’m surprised Melissa can even understand me, because I can hardly force the words past my constricting lungs.

“You didn’t know?” she wheezes.

“I didn’t know,” I wheeze back, shaking my head as tears stream out of my eyes.

Melissa slaps the countertop, then she’s holding on as her body slides to the floor, legs incapacitated by laughter. “Oh my fucking God…”

If the doorbell hadn’t rung right then, I think we’d both have passed out from lack of oxygen. Since I’m not the one sprawled on the floor like a dead person, I go answer the door.

I didn’t even stop to think who might be on the other side. It could have been Bastian, trying to apologize by making things worse somehow.

Or Kai. With a knife.

Thank God it’s neither.

“Delivery for Miss Lee?” the courier says, giving my tear-stained face a concerned look. “You okay, ma’am?”

“Yessir.” I haul a breath through my lungs, dragging my finger over the touch screen of his delivery machine thing and taking the parcel from him. “Too much weed.”

I slam the door in his face, leaning my back against it as I savor the feeling of air in my lungs.

God, my stomach hurts.

“Who was it?” Melissa comes out of the kitchen using the heels of both hands to wipe her face. “Oh my God, was that Amazon?”

“No, I think it’s for me.”

“What did you get?” She brightens up so much, you’d swear this was her delivery.

“I’m not sure…” But as I say it, my brain finally catches up. “Oh fuck.”

“What? What?” She plucks the parcel out of my hands and holds it over her head as she charges back into the kitchen. “I’m opening it!”

“Melissa!” I run after her. “Hey, that’s mine!”

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