Page 33 of Play With Me

“She did, totally. I’m glad you showed her more respect than I did. Having to admit that to her, to see her face and feel the full force of her reaction… it should have been my cross to bear, and I didn’t deserve to be protected from it.”

“I didn’t do it for you.” Only. I didn’t only do it for you. “It might have made you feel better, maybe more accountable, to be the one to tell her, but it would have been pretty awful for her, especially since you didn’t own up to it right away,” I said, feeling a little bit of that righteous anger on Nathalie’s behalf. “I thought you were braver than that, Lou.”

“You’re right. Me too.” She gained strength in her voice when I called her out. She wanted to own what she did—I could see that. But her watching was only part of it. I was more hurt than I’d realized.

“I shouldn’t have had to tell Nathalie, and I shouldn’t have had to drive four fucking hours and look all over this godforsaken city to get a goddamned apology from someone I thought was my friend, Louisa!” My voice cracked.

It hurt that she didn’t come to me first. I hated that she told Hasan before she said anything to me. I was embarrassed that he even knew at all.

Louisa’s expression was as raw as I’d ever seen outside of grief. She wiped her face and nose. She wanted to touch me, and I was grateful that she held back.

“I know. You shouldn’t have. I don’t have a valid excuse, Will. Not for watching you, for not owning up to it, or for making you chase me. I’m so fucking sorry for all of it,” she said, her hands over her heart, voice shaky. “I don’t have an excuse, but I don’t want you to wonder why either. I don’t want there to be a question in your mind about what I was thinking or what my motivations were because I know you’re blaming yourself for me running, and I can’t let you do that.”

I had wondered; she was right. That she’d been laughing or disgusted. That she thought less of me now.

She moved closer, hands out, tentative, asking permission. When I dropped my chin, she placed them on my arms, like an adult wanting my focused attention.

“When I saw you guys together… I just didn’t know sex could be like that.” Her eyes didn’t leave mine. “I was curious and trying to figure out why I couldn’t look away, and it wasn’t fair to you.” Relief flooded through me.

She brushed the hair out of her face with both hands, looking pained.

“I was jealous of how you spoke to her, looked at her, and I had no right to be. I thought it would feel like porn, and instead… it felt so… I never imagined it would be so… Fuck! I am mortified and unbelievably sorry I intruded on something so private between the two of you.”

I let her finish. She was breathing hard, like she’d run something out of herself.

The kitchen was quiet except for the hum of the fridge. I became very aware of my hands, the way my fingers wanted to curl and uncurl like they were looking for a cigarette. I didn’t have any. What a fucking oversight.

“I believe you,” I said finally, pushing off the wall and stepping into her pantry. My eyes landed on a box of Trefoils. Who the fuck buys those?

Her shoulders were braced for impact. “Is that all?”

I opened it anyway—decoy box! Samoas inside. I knew I liked her for a reason.

“No. You said all the stuff, so I believe you, and we don’t have to make this a thing, but I got stuff, too.”

“Of course.” She looked unnerved.

“I mean, it is a thing, but I don’t want it to be. You being sorry doesn’t make me feel any less embarrassed about it all, and I’d rather not relive it every time you feel compelled to grovel.” I popped a cookie in my mouth. “We’ll talk about this now, and then I don’t want you to bring it up again.”

She started to speak, and I held up a hand—chewing—and flipped it into number one. We were going to do this my way.

“One, I’m pretty fucking pissed you told Has before me. I know it was minutes apart, or whatever, but Has wasn’t party to what happened. When you fuck up, you don’t get to decide who knows about it. It should have been me, Louisa.”

“I didn’t think of it like that. God, why didn’t I think of that?” She looked distraught, running her hands over the hair she’d pulled onto one shoulder. “You’re right. That was so shitty.”

Nodding, I put another cookie in my mouth and raised another finger. “Two. Running away from everything was just plain cruel.”

Her eyes were full of remorse. She knew it was.

“All I could think about is what I might have done—standing there with my literal dick in my hand—that was so horrible this fucking creep I’m into ran away and didn’t answer her phone. Is it that big? Too sexy?”

“Both,” she laughed, with a small smile.

The catharsis I felt getting all of this out in the open was huge, and I didn’t have the energy to suffer through anymore of this conversation without laughing about it.

“Don’t try to flatter me, Louisa, I’m roasting your ass right now.”

She sniffle-snickered. I ate another cookie and added another finger.