Page 59 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

It was real.

It actually happened.

I had sex with Theodore Taylor.

And I have no idea how I’m going to look him in the eye ever again.

Keys jingle on the opposite side of the front door. The lock turns, and the hinges squeak lightly as Mia comes into view.

When she sees me on the couch, she flinches and clutches at her chest, her eyes wide with surprise.

“It’s me,” I rush out.

Her shoulders relax almost instantly, and she drops her arm to her side, giving me a tired smile. “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry if I scared––”

“You’re fine.” She locks the front door behind her, then faces me again. “What are you still doing awake? It’s late.”

“Or early,” I counter.

She nods, hooking the strap of her purse on the coat rack next to the front door.

“How was work?” I ask.

“Good. Long,” she clarifies,”but good.”

“That’s good.” I clear my throat and sip a little more tea.

Sensing something’s off, Mia rounds the edge of the couch and tilts her head, eyeing me warily. “You okay?”

“Yup.”

“You sure?”

“Yup,” I repeat.

Her gaze narrows. Then, she sighs and collapses onto the worn cushion next to me. “Okay, what happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Dude.” She pauses, giving me a look that would make my own mother proud. “I’m tired. I just got off my shift––”

“Then go to bed,” I offer. The words aren’t sharp. They’re…defeated. And laced with the same exhaustion painted on Mia’s tired face.

She frowns and touches my knee. “Not what I meant. Come on. Tell me what’s bugging you.”

“Nothing’s bugging me. I just can’t sleep.”

“You know you’re allowed to like…feel stuff, right?” she asks.

“What?” I laugh.

“I mean…” She pauses and tries again. “You’re allowed to feel stuff. You’re allowed to talk about it. It doesn’t make you a bitch or a gossiper to express yourself.”

I pull back, surprised. “Where is this coming from?”

“You’re allowed to tell people what’s on your mind. You don’t have to bottle it up or shove it down like most guys do.”

---