“But remember, I drove us there, so I could either leave him at the restaurant, take him back to the club where his friends were—if they hadn’t left yet—or take him home.”
“You went home with him.” Her big blue eyes didn’t blink once as she stared at me.
“Yep.”
“And the wet hair?”
My head dropped, the embarrassment causing every part of me to not only stay hot but flushed. “I used his shower.”
“You mean, you took a shower with him, and you guys did the dirty while you were in there.” When I said nothing and still didn’t look at her, she slapped my arm. “Oh my God, I’m right, aren’t I?”
“In my defense, he was irresistible?—”
“Why are you defending yourself, Addy? You did absolutely nothing wrong.” She moved even closer, running her fingers through the side of my hair. “Babe, look at me.”
The feelings and emotions began to settle inside me. “Why does it feel so wrong?”
“Because you slept with him? Something you legit never do, which I wish you’d do more of.” She paused. “I don’t get what’s upsetting you.”
“Because I met him at a strip club, where he semi-saw me half naked.” I used a mix of her words so it would make sense. “I don’t know … for some reason, that’s eating at me.”
“You’re saying it would have been better if you’d met him somewhere else? Like a pool party, where your nipples and your vag were covered—although, honestly, I don’t see the difference.”
I shrugged. “But wouldn’t that be better?”
“Are you asking me?”
My head started shaking again. “I don’t know.”
“How did you guys end things? You obviously didn’t stay the night since you’re home.”
That was the part I’d tried not to think about during my drive home. That I’d tried not to second-guess.
When I had been at his house, in a towel, standing between the two sinks in his bathroom, with his arms around me, he told me he wanted to see me again.
I’d reacted quickly, without really thinking.
And I didn’t know if I’d made the right choice.
“He gave me his number.” I reached inside my pocket for the small piece of paper he’d written it on. “I’d left my phone in the car, so I couldn’t program it into my Contacts.”
“Why didn’t he just text you so you’d have it?”
I mashed my lips together, remembering I was holding wine, and that was when I started to guzzle, swallowing to say, “I didn’t give him my number.”
“What? Why?”
I set the half-empty glass on the table next to the couch. “Everything was happening, and I was unsure about it all, and being in control of the situation felt like the right move. I figured, if I had his number, I could decide if it was best to see him again. But if he had mine and reached out, I might have a hard time saying no.”
“Would you want to say no?”
“Ugh, Leah, I don’t know. I’m a mess.”
“And he was okay with not getting your number and leaving the ball in your court?”
“I told him I’d be in touch really soon. I’m sure he believed me.”
“Even though you weren’t exactly telling him the truth.” She focused on my eyes, and I could tell she was trying to read them. “I don’t get it. Did you have a bad time?”