Page 113 of The Odds of Happily Ever After
I gawked at thin air. “NO. Chloe!”
“Come on. You don’t have to lie to me. I promise to keep it on the down-low—but I need to know. How big?—”
“CHLOE.”
“Oh, please. Don’t be shy now. If it’s easier, just say yes or no: does he live up to his big dick energy?”
“Oh my God.”
“I knew it! He totally does!”
“No!” At least, not that I knew for sure. From how it had felt pressing against me, though . . . Not to mention how it looked in his boxers . . .
Focus, Luna.
“Chloe, Gabe and I did not and have never had sex. Okay?”
“No.” She sounded horrified.
“I swear.”
“I can’t believe it. The way he looked at you last night? Professor Hottie wants you.”
“Can you please not call him that?”
“Possessive much?” she drawled.
“I hate how people objectify him. He’s more than his looks.” My conscience nagged at me because I’d just ogled him a few hours ago.
A long silence came over the phone before Chloe spoke again. “Oh no. You’ve gone and fallen in love.”
I couldn’t deny it. “I tried not to.”
“Guess I can’t blame you. None of the guys in our year measure up to the professor.”
“You can’t tell anyone,” I begged her. “I mean, there’s nothing going on, but you know how people talk. He can’t lose his job just because he showed up at my party.”
“I won’t tell. But I wasn’t the only one who saw him last night.”
“I know.” Anxiety brewed in my stomach. First Lonzo, now this. I never should have invited Gabe. The risk wasn’t worth it.
“Look, it was dark and most people were drunk or high. I’m sure no one paid attention to him.”
Chloe was saying that to make me feel better, and I wished it was true. But I’d seen firsthand what random strangers could do with their smartphones. Stolen photos posted on social media had almost ruined Ate’s chances of being with Jason.
“Don’t worry about it, Luna. Why don’t you try the gift I got you?”
My eyes flew back to the toy. The illustration alone intimidated me.
“Trust me, it’s good for working out the stress. The toy’s kinda big if you’re not used to it?—”
I closed my eyes. “Kill me now.”
“You can play with the vibe end first?—”
“Can you please stop talking about it?”
“—and work up to the dildo.”
