Page 48 of The Wicked

A fist flew past my face and smashed into the jerk’s jaw. His head snapped sideways, his eyes rolled back, and he crumpled to the floor. An arm snaked around my waist, and I twisted to check it was the right one this time. Phew. Well, kind of. In that moment, Charming looked anything but charming. In fact, he looked positively pissed.

“Drink this.” He tilted a high-ball glass toward my lips.

“What is it?”

“Water.”

A small crowd had gathered around us, and a brunette with coloured ribbons woven through her braids crouched beside the jerk, wailing.

“What did you do to him? What did you do?”

Charming gave her a sharp look. “Taught him that dry-humping my girl wasn’t a smart idea.”

“He would never—”

“He did. Take my advice: you can do better.” Charming turned his attention back to me. “Drink, Cinderella.”

He practically poured the water down my throat, and I coughed on the last mouthful, but then I was in his arms and we were walking out into the chill night air. So much drama. So much alcohol. This was why I didn’t drink very often. Because things went all fuzzy and people sounded weird and my stomach felt bleurgh.

“You didn’t have to hit him.”

Charming avoided answering, just carried on walking until we reached his SUV.Bleep-bleep.He bundled me into the passenger seat and clipped the seat belt into place. Why did he keep doing that? He thought I was incapable? Okay, so maybe he was right at the moment because I was seeing two of most things, but the other times, I could poke the thingy into the hole. I was an expert on car safety. The best. There was no better way to learn than through personal experience.

“Did you know…that airbags don’t always work?” I asked Charming as he started the engine. “Sometimes, they just don’t go off. You know the sensor thingies? Not rebib…relab…repliable.”

“Any component can fail.”

“Yup. Fail. And then your head goes splat on the windshield like my dad’s did.”

“Your dad had a car accident?”

“I was in the back seat, even though I wasn’t supposhed to be. Always buckle up, folks.”

“Fuck, Sara. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. Sorry for so, so many things.” I hiccuped. “Oops. Are we going to have sex now?”

“Why? Do you want to?”

“Yes? I mean, I think so? I only had sex two and a half times before, and it was pretty terrible. The first guy lastednineteen seconds.”

“Nineteen seconds?”

“Yup!” I leaned across the centre console as we took a bend. We’d left the lights of Eugene behind now, and the darkness wrapped around us like a shroud. “I counted. Nineteen seconds is bad, right?”

“Appalling. How can you have sex half a time?”

“Well, the second time, we were on the guy’s couch—a different guy, not the nineteen-second one—and he was sort of thrusting away in that gap between my thighs and my…my…”

“Your pussy?”

“Yes, that.” My cheeks heated because Grandpa always said I should act like a lady, and ladies didn’t swear or use words like “pussy.” Or perhaps it was the alcohol causing me to flush? I’d consumed quite a large amount of it, hadn’t I? “And after a while—maybe a minute?—he grunted and asked how it was for me, and I had to, uh…break the news to him…but he didn’t take it well.”

No, he’d stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door, and since I’d never found myself in that position before, I’d been at a loss. In the end, I’d located some cleaning products under the sink and sponged the mess off the couch, and when he still hadn’t reappeared after an hour, I’d slipped quietly out of his apartment. We’d never spoken of the incident again, which made buying kosher party food a little awkward because he worked at the deli in Coos Bay and never seemed to take a day off. The last time I needed salami, I’d feigned a migraine and made Parker go.

Charming glanced across at me, and he almost did a smile.

“Do you think that counts as half a sex or a whole sex?” I asked him.

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