Page 35 of That Pretty Pucking Mouth

“Fine! But if I break something, you’re paying for it,” I say as I grab her hand and allow her to draw me into her ridiculous dance routine.

Cassidy’s voice cuts through the soft classic rock song playing, catching me completely off guard. “Have you ever been spanked?”

I freeze, the ponytail I am in the middle of perfecting falls apart, my hair slips through my fingers as I turn to face her.

“What?”

What the hell kind of question is that?

We have less than an hour before class, so I’m getting ready at my vanity. But now everything has paused because her tone of voice is speaking volumes. Does my best friend like to be spanked?

She’s sprawled out across my bed, left ankle crossed over her right knee, her eyes glued to her phone as her fingers dance across the screen like this is the most normal conversation ever.

Without looking, she says, “You haven’t right? Oh my god! You’ve got to try it.” She pauses to sit up, folding her knees underneath her. She brushes the ends of her Dutch braids over her shoulder and grins mischievously at me. “I was with Dylan from the hockey team and…” she lets out a long exaggerated whistle, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

I stare at her, wide eyed. “Cassidy!”

She leans forward, completely ignoring my horror. “I’m telling you, Rhea, it’s life changing.” She starts crawling across the bed, towards me, her eyes gleaming with playful intensity. “Someone told me that puck boys are pretty intense when they fuck but I had no idea how much.”

“Cassidy, seriously!” I blurt, my face heating up.

“Oh, come on! Don’t be a prude!” she laughs, flopping down on her stomach, chin propped up in her hands. “Want me to tell you the details? He was pretty big and the way he…”

I slap my hands over my ears, desperately trying to block out whatever filthy sentence she’s about to finish. “La! La! La! I don’t want to hear it!”

Cassidy rolls her eyes, her laughter bubbling up. “You’re so innocent, Rhea.” Rolling onto her back, she crosses her arms behind her head, staring at the ceiling with a teasing smile. “But seriously, when was the last time you had sex?”

I feel my cheeks flush as I reach for my abandoned scrunchie while shooting her a glare. “That is nobody’s business.”

“Oh my God! Don’t tell me your last time was with Wesley! Babe, that was over a month ago.”

I groan, the memories flooding back, igniting a mix of frustration and embarrassment. Wesley was cute, nerdy and sweet in a way that made him seem too good to be true. Our relationship had been filled with study sessions, movie dates and pizza nights, but it ended abruptly when he showed up to my dorm one night, bruised, bloody and demanding a breakup.

He wouldn’t explain why he was that way, just kept shaking his head and repeating we need to break up.

Then there was Bryan just few weeks ago, who ghosted me after our second date because he somehow broke his arm in three places right before we were supposed to meet up. He didn’t even try to explain—just vanished like a bad Tinder match.

It’s like I have my own personal dark cloud following me around, and no guy can stand it for too long. Guys would enter my life, stick around just long enough to show potential, and then—bam!—something terrible would happen, and they’d be gone. No closure, no explanations, just a string of weird accidents and even weirder breakups.

“Come on, babe. You need to get over Wesley. It’s been too long,” Cassidy says, stretching her legs above her head.

I sigh, knowing she’s right but hating how easy she makes it sound. So, I stay silent and finish my ponytail, hoping she’ll drop the subject.

She twists around to glance at me in the mirror, legs still stretched above her head as if she’s preparing for some impromptu yoga session.

“I’m serious, Rhea. You’re too hot to be moping around like this. Wesley was a nerdy phase. You need someone who can handle all of this.” She gestures wildly at me. “Honestly, you’ve probably got a line of guys now. That masked freak from the party? Some people think he was part of Reaper hazing. Like, what even is that? Rich boy cult shit.”

She laughs, but it’s sharp and careless, and I freeze.

Reaper.

The word lands heavy. Too heavy. My skin prickles, and I stare at her like maybe she just said something else. But she’s already scrolling again, oblivious to the cold bloom of anxiety spreading through my chest.

I have to say something… anything to be normal. I mutter as my heart races, “Yeah? And where am I supposed to find this mythical guy who won’t mysteriously break a bone or ghost me the second things get serious?”

Cassidy lowers her legs, finally sitting up, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “He may be closer than you think.”

I narrow my eyes at her, skeptical. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

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