Losing It

Griffin leans in to whisper.

She nods.

He turns to Wes. They trade a knowing glance. I haven’t got a clue what it means, but I’m glad they’re communicating.

Fuck, I’ve only been “dating” Wes for a month and the thought of walking away from him makes me sick.

I can’t imagine calling off an engagement.

Wes nods. “Never have I ever gotten anything pierced.”

Dean chuckles. “That for me, specifically?”

“How many times a day do you really need to bring it up?” Griffin teases.

“Until it stops being interesting.” Dean laughs. “You gotta admit. You’re curious.”

“Don’t like guys.” Griffin’s voice is completely even. He has no problem with the idea of liking guys. He’s not all scared of being accused of being gay the way so many straight guys are. He’s just not interested.

“Curious what it would be like if you did it,” Dean says. “Admit it.”

“Of course,” Griffin says. “If it makes sex better—”

“Jesus Christ, Griff, don’t invite him to talk about it.” Wes shakes his head. “He’ll never stop.”

“Does it make it better?” I ask.

“E tu, brute?” Wes mimes being stabbed in the gut.

“Where did you learn Shakespeare?” I ask.

“I know things,” he says.

I shake my head you don’t.

He laughs. “Know how to make you come.”

“The piercing helps with that,” Dean says.

“Helps you make Chloe come?” Griffin asks.

Chloe clears her throat.

“Yeah.” Dean laughs. “Makes it more fun for me too.”

Chloe clears her throat louder.

“It’s really win-win,” Dean says.

“Jesus Christ,” Wes mutters.

“It was your question,” I say.

“‘Cause of these.” His fingertip brushes my earring. My earlobe. The line of my jaw.

Fuck, his touch is soft. Tender. Hot.

I want to be alone with him.

I want to be out of this car.

I want to fuck him senseless.

We’re doing that.

Maybe not tonight.

But really fucking soon.

And, I, uh…

“Drop a finger, angel,” Wes says.

I do.

It moves back to Dean.

We go in circles forever.

The guys make a point of knocking each other out. Well, the tattoo artists make a point of knocking each other out.

It comes down to me and Juliette.

I play the I’ve never had sex card.

Then I let her win.

She’s heartbroken.

She deserved to pick the music.

I can’t lie.

I kinda love Juliette’s taste in music.

I kinda love Juliette.

We stop at Barstow to pee, get coffee and tea, trade seats.

Wes takes over driving duty. I sit with Juliette. Talk about undergrad. She went to USC too.

We never shared a class—it’s a school of tens of thousands, it would be weirder if we did share a class—but there’s still plenty of gossip.

When we hit Baker, we head to some shop known for its jerky, hot sauce, dried fruit, and alien theme.

There’s a fake spaceship in the parking lot. And all sorts of Area 51 signs inside the shop.

I’m not really a jerky fan, but I do appreciate the atmosphere.

I get an iced tea, pee, join Wes in the car.

This time, we’re in the back.

We talk, but not about anything important. About the last few movies we watched, and his intention to show me Mission Impossible, and the tattoo designs he’s been working on.

He’s perfected my pinup.

And he’s designed something for himself too. A heart made of glass with this intricate, rose adorned lock.

Because roses make him think of me.

And I…

Well, he doesn’t say it, but it’s obvious.

He wants to give me the key to his heart.

Or maybe he’s sure it’s completely closed to anyone and anything, including me.

I… Uh…

I mean, it’s obvious it has something to do with me.

Just not what exactly it has to do with me.

I talk about Chicago and Owen and med school. The latter still feels like a prison, but I want to be home. Not forever. Not even for a while.

For long enough to see my brother and my parents.

To tell them…

Well, I’m not sure yet. I’m not ready to say it out loud. But I’m getting there.

I’m pretty sure I don’t want to go to med school.

I don’t have any idea what else I’m doing with my life.

But there’s something about cruising down the highway with friends—

My life feels full of possibilities.

After a while, I rest my head on Wes’s shoulder. Watch the desert pass us by.

It’s beautiful. Bright blue sky, long stretches of sand, thorny cacti, burnt orange rocks.

I relax until we come up on the city.

It’s there, in front of us, an actual oasis in the middle of nothing.

The city looks different in the day. Well, different than the pictures I’ve seen.

It’s so strange. A giant pyramid, a fake castle, the New York City skyline, all this modern steel and glass.

Wes brushes my hair behind my neck. Brings his lips to my ear. “First thing I do when I get to our hotel room—”

“Pee?”

He chuckles. “Fuck, angel. You’re taking this literally.”

“Always.”

“Sure. After I pee, and wash my hands, then—”

“Then?”

“I’m gonna make you come.”

Chapter Forty-Three

Wes

Quinn stretches her arms over her head.

A yawn falls off her lips.