Page 52 of Lotus

My heart erupts. Ruptures and explodes, fireworks and embers.

So long, heart.

A sound squeaks past my lips, then I exhale another sharp breath. “That’s not how this works. And you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he wonders innocently.

I almost say it’s because my loins can’t take it, but instead, I muster, “Because we’re friends. That was…practice, remember? A one-time thing, for research purposes only.”

“But I enjoyed it immensely.”

All of the skin on my body flushes in agreement. “Good.” I clear my throat. “Then I guess I taught you well.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

I choose to be honest. Oliver is always honest, and it’s one of my favorite qualities about him. “Um… yeah, I did.”

I enjoyed it even more later that night when I was under my covers with my…

“I’m glad.”

His smile is alight with pride and relief, making the ashes of my heart ache. “But that doesn’t mean we should do it again. We’re notactuallydating, remember?”

A beat. One soul-sucking beat, and that precious smile crumbles, his gaze dipping to the floor. Oliver forces a new smile, produces a nod, fakes his way through his words like he’s an expert at it—like he’sone of us. “Yes, you’re right. I apologize for being presumptuous. I’ll leave you alone now.”

My fingers reach out and curl around his wrist, catching him before he drifts too far. “Oliver…” Our eyes meet, blue on brown, both a little wounded. “Listen, you mean a lot to me. Our friendship means a hell of a lot to me. Stuff like that—kissing, sex, romance—it complicates everything. It tears people apart, and I refuse to lose you again. What we have right now isgood. Let’s not shake it up.”

Oliver’s attention is fixed to the way my hand slides down his wrist until our fingers intertwine. His mouth twitches into the faintest smile before he gives my hand a tender squeeze and glances up at me. “I understand, Sydney.”

“Do you?”

I need toknow. I can’t lose him.

“Yes.” The word escapes him like a strained whisper, laced with acceptance and defeat. Before he walks out, his gaze flashes with something curious, something searching. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” I answer, my hesitation evident. I already know I can’t lie to him.

Please don’t ask me what I did after you left that night…

Oliver averts his eyes, then releases my hand to sift his own through his mop of overgrown hair, a look I find to be as sexy as it is boyishly charming. His hair is shorter than it was upon his discovery, but it’s still shaggy, a little wavy, and just long enough to grab onto when…

Stop, Sydney!

“Have you and my brother ever been romantically involved?”

Oliver’s voice slices through my inappropriate thoughts, and I’m temporarily thrown by his question, not expecting it. “God, no. It’s not like that between us. I mean, we kissed a few times years ago, but it was always when we were drunk, and we always regretted it.”

Oliver studies me, his eyes glinting with gold. “I have a hard time believing that.”

I can’t help but feel offended as my arms cross defensively. “Why is that?”

“I have a hard time believing someone could kiss you and regret it.”

My tension dissipates in a flash, my walls collapsing at my feet, landing right beside the remnants of my heart. I don’t know how to respond.

“Have a good evening, Sydney.”

Oliver nods a farewell, and it feels like afarewell, and I panic when he steps out the front door. My voice betrays me as one hand clamps around the doorframe, holding me back. “We’re okay, right?”

---