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Chapter Twenty-Two

No school todaybecause it’s the last week of classes and we’re pretty much done. The next two weeks are finals and project presentations and then, that’s it—graduation. My only plan is to sleep in and maybe move from the bed to the couch, Netflix and chill. The alone kind of Netflix and chill. Tomorrow I can start cramming for exams. But like all the best laid plans, someone or something always derails it. This someone being Skye when she walks into my room, opens the shades, then plops herself next to me on the bed. I squint against the invasion of light into my previously darkened room, pulling the covers over my head and trying to avoid the conversation I know is coming since Mom’s call last night.

Skye pulls the blanket back down and off my face.

“Fess up, what exactly is going on between the two of you?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I have time.”

Stretching my arms over my head, I arch my back and settle into the pillow, finding a more comfortable position. “Well, you may as well sit down. Oh, wait, you already are.” Is it too early for sarcasm? Nah . . . never too early or too late for sarcasm.

Skye seems annoyed as she grabs a pillow of her own and props her head on a hand to look at me.

“Okay, I’m ready. Just dump it on me.”

“We have a bet. A bet he coerced me into.”

“A bet? What kind of bet?”

“A sex bet.”

“Come again?”

I narrow my eyes at Skye. “Is that your idea of a pun?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said, ‘come again’—is that a double entendre?”

“No! Oh—I get it. No, I did not mean it like that. Although now that you bring that up it is funny.”

“So anyway, as I was saying. He trapped me into a sex bet. He thinks he can make me beg for sex or a kiss. Whichever comes first.”

She’s trying really hard not to laugh. “How did you get sucked into this bet?”

“I have no idea. But I think it started back home over Easter.”

“I thought you two hated each other back then, but now thinking about it, it’s not hate at all. It’s sexual tension. Enough tension to send a rocket to the moon.”

“Tell me about it. He taunts me and takes every opportunity to tease me. I might have to take back that vibrator I bought for you. Did you open it yet?”

“Err . . . so not going there with you.”

“I will take that as a yes. So, eeew, no. Not sharing it.” I smirk at her. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“Yeah, so you can bring it up next time we’re having a family dinner? No, thank you.”

“I won’t. Pinky swear.” I lift my pinky to her and she knows I won’t say a word. Pinky swear is law.

“I had it in my nightstand and Logan opened the drawer to stash condoms in there and found it.”

“And?” I encourage her.

“After I nearly died of embarrassment. He opened the box and plugged it in to charge.”

Skye does her best impersonation of a tomato and presses her fingers to her cheeks as if that could contain the redness spreading on her skin.