Page 50 of Nonverbal

No drinking or risky behavior. I hear her crying in the bathroom at night, and I want to ask what happened when she was 18, but I also don’t want to trigger her.

When the henna pen runs out of thick brown goo, she sprays lemon juice on the design. I shudder. So glad I didn’t do that. Goo and dried, sticky lemon juice on my skin? No thanks.

She lays back on the bed, satisfied with her work. “We should get back to finding your next hookup. I have a few numbers. We can double date and assess the guy before you’re alone with him. What do you think? Wanna try some dates?”

Brody enters my mind, and I can’t stop myself from blushing.

My response gets Amber way too interested. “Oh my god. Did you meet someone? Who? Where did you meet? I’ve never seen you blush like that.”

She hovers her hand over my arm until I nod. Then she grabs on and squeezes. “Tell me. How did you meet? Where have you been going that I don’t know about? Or did you meet him online?”

I tap a rhythm on my foot. How did I meet this guy that can’t be Brody?

“How old is he?”

“What does he look like? Tell me he’s hot.”

I bite my bottom lip. Dang it. I need to stop describing Brody.

She looks thoughtful. “Huh. Never pictured you with a tattooed guy, but okay. Do you have a picture?”

“Well, get one so I can see. When should we double date? I have a few guys I can call that are down for whatever.”

I shrug.

“Knock, knock,” Brody says from the doorway, though he doesn’t actually knock. You can’t just say ‘knock, knock’. That makes no sense.

His mouth is open like there was more he wanted to say, but he’s frozen. His eyes roam my body and my skin warms. I’ll tolerate makeup and these clothes if it makes him look at me like that.

Amber throws a pillow at him. “Ew, stop gawking at her like a pervert. What do you want?”

He holds up a grocery bag. “I bought pineapple upside down cake. Went to three stores to find it.”

She tips her head to the side. “And?”

“And I got strawberry cheesecake swirl ice cream. A pack of sprinkles, if you’re feeling festive. Hope you enjoy all of this because I’m eating chicken for dinner. I won’t be poisoning my body.”

“Uh-huh. Craft beers aren’t poison?”

“Absolutely not. They’re heaven in a can.”

I stand and adjust my shorts, but they’re still up my butt.

“You can have whatever you want,” he says. His voice is deep and sexy, and I’m tempted to kiss him. I won’t in front of Amber. But I’m tempted.

We’ve been cuddling at night on his bed with the door locked. We also make out. I think I’m getting better at it. We kiss and he holds me and we fall asleep together. The closeness hasn’t bothered me at all. If my skin does get sensitive, I just roll away and fall back into a peaceful slumber.

Since I know the plan—focus on Amber, get back to sex later—my desire to orgasm hasn’t been as strong. I’m not consumed. I’m enjoying my closeness to Brody at night. I sleep better knowing he’s there with me.

I never knew I could be so content.

“Brody,” Amber yells, and I flinch. “Stop sounding like a pervert with Paige. I mean it.”

---