Page 82 of Every Step She Takes
Damn. She’s good.
It’s a pathetic Hail Mary, a last-ditch effort to convince me to go along with this bonkers scheme by making me feel special, singular,seen.
No, the pathetic thing is that it works. The flimsy resolve I’ve been clinging to since I walked into our room and found her standing there in her sheer pajama shorts finally escapes my grip. I’ve run out of ways to talk myself out of this mistake.
Honestly, I didn’t need to be talked into it in the first place.
Because she doesn’t have a crush on Inez. She has a crush onme. And I have a ridiculous, misguided, adolescent crush on her too. I feel seventeen and absolutely stupid over a girl.
Sadiewantsme, and I am so fucking honored.
It doesn’t matter that we’ll both regret this before we reach Santiago de Compostela. It doesn’t matter that one or both of us will end up hurt. All I can think about is kissing her again, touching her, feeling her body against mine, and now she’s right here with her plump thighs and this white T-shirt that hugs her every curve, and I’m not going to miss the chance to explore those luscious curves with my fingers, with my tongue.
She’s standing here with her flushed cheeks and her heaving breath, and all I can do is imagine making her that way with my mouth. I’m picturing how those freckles would look surroundedby starched hostel sheets as I kiss her in a million new places. God, I want my face between those thighs. I want to find out what combination of hands and tongue, speed and pressure, will make Sadie unravel for me, and then I want to watch as she falls apart from my touch. I want to figure out whatshewants and then teach her how to touch herself like that.
Sadie is a distraction. She’s an unhealthy pattern of behavior. She’s a way to forget everything I need to face. But she’s also beautiful and kind, and she reminds me that the world is mostly beautiful and kind too. She’s maybe the most vulnerable person I’ve ever met. She’s given me more of herself in a week than all the other women I’ve been with combined, and now she’s offering me the chance to show her how she deserves to be loved. I’m not strong enough to resist that.
This is obviously a terrible fucking idea. And I’m obviously going to do it.
I try to clear my throat, but it’s thick with lust and longing. “We… we would need to be on the same page. About this. About… what it is.” My voice cracks over the words.
“Of course.” Sadie breathes onto my cheek.
I tilt my head back so I can study her flushed face. “This is… this is just practice, right?”
“Absolutely. It can be just practice,” she says breezily, and I ignore the part of my heart that withers at this.
I push on with professional indifference. “If we’re going to do this, we need to be clear. Either of us can say no to sex at any time, no questions asked.”
“Yes, obviously. Agreed.”
“And a safe word,” I choke out. “We should have a safe word.”
“How aboutoctopus?” Sadie bites down on a smile. She reaches up and touches two fingers to my throat. I don’t realize I am clenching my jaw until she glides those fingers down my strained tendon. Everything relaxes under her touch. Sadiedoesn’t break eye contact, doesn’t move her hand away. “Are you done with your rules?” she whispers.
I’m so mesmerized by the smooth column of her exposed throat, her creamy skin, freckles like a trail down to her collarbone, that I can barely speak.
“One more thing,” I croak. “You have to promise that we’ll stay friends after.”
Sadie’s fingers twitch on the back of my neck as her eyebrows scrunch together. “You… you consider me a friend?”
A chuckle escapes my clogged throat. “Do you think I’d give sex lessons to just anyone?”
She unleashes her full smile, and something inside me shatters, then reassembles itself, a sense of certainty clicking into place. I lean in and kiss that smile. She kisses me back, and itclick, click, clicksin my brain.
Sadie grabs my waist and deepens the kiss, and it’s tempting to let her be in control, to let her do whatever she wants with me.
I break off the kiss, and Sadie sways into me. “Where do you want to start?” I ask like I’m a tax accountant, not a lovesick fool.
“Um…” Sadie’s glossy eyes drop down to her feet. “With sex?”
“Yes, butwhat? Sex can mean a lot of different things.”
The blush explodes in little blossoms across her chest. It’s only been a week, but I’m already fluent in the language of Sadie’s blushes. I know these stress splotches mean she has no idea where she wants to start with these lessons. She doesn’t even know what’s on the table.
“I-I think this is a mistake,” she stutters, detaching from me. “This—this is a terrible idea. I don’t know why I thought this would work.”
“Sadie.” I exhale her name. “You just spent thirty minutes convincing me to do this.”
