A Sticky Situation (Awkward Love 7)

“What story?” I ask, my stomach churning up.

“That the mystery bed masturbator was really a dude dressed up as a chick.” Nate braces himself for my reaction and I don’t let him down.

“He’s telling everyone I’m a dude?” I blast.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “He, uh, also said you were carrying a case full of dildo’s.”

I flush. “Okay, that part might be true but the rest…”

I shake my head, too angry to even finish that sentence.

“Relax, okay?” he soothes me, putting his arms around my shoulders. “He’s just trying to cash in on the story.” He pauses, a faint smile on his lips. “I do have questions, though … how many dildos are we talking about?”

“I wanted to be prepared,” I defend myself.

“For what?” he chuckles. “A mass orgy?”

“No, in case one stopped working…” I sigh and rub my temples. “I’ll explain this later. Right now, we better get moving.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Do you have a plan?”

I nod confidently. “Of course, I do.”

I don’t have a plan in any shape or form, but I’ll reasonably sure I’ll figure something out. And I do—when I find my phone and see ten messages Lou and almost as many from Sasha. I try calling Lou first, but there’s no answer. Sasha, however, answers right away.

“You’re in soo much shit,” she gasps, “where the fuck are you? Where have you been? The police are here, dude. You’re dead. Run away, start a new life with your sexually confused boyfriend.” She pauses. “Wait, are you sure you guys slept together? I mean it’s been long enough for you to not remember how it all works—”

“I’m not running away, Sash,” I cut in with a laugh. “It’s a really long story but we’re on our way back in. And how would you know how long it’s been?” I retort, ignoring Nate’s sniggering.

“I heard Lou and you talking,” she says, her tone matter of fact.

“Why didn’t you say something then?” I ask.

“Because I figured if you wanted me to know, you would’ve told me. It’s fine. I get it,” she insists. “What excuse have you got ready? I assume the truth isn’t going to cut it?”

“Probably not,” I wince, thinking about last night. “How about our car broke down in the middle of nowhere and my phone went flat?” I say weakly.

“Eh, that’s as good as it’s getting,” she says with a sigh. “Okay. Meet me at the back entrance. You don’t want to go anywhere near the front. Got it?”

“Sure,” I say. “Thanks, Sash. I owe you one.”I drive past the main entrance to the clinic, my eyes widening at all the reporters who are camped out the front. Sasha wasn’t kidding. This place is like a fricking zoo. I exchange a look with Nate, who shakes his head.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “How tight is their security?”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “You should know, Mr ‘I’ve had my phone confiscated fifteen times, but always manage to get it back’. It’s tight enough for you not to worry about anyone sneaking past those guards,” I assure him. “Even around the back there will be security, but if we can dodge the reporters, then all the better.”

We’ll get enough questions from Luke, without worrying about reporters. I breathe out when I spot Sasha out the back of the main building, standing next to one of the security guards. They’re laughing about something and every now and then, she reaches up and touches her hair, taking a break from batting her eyelashes.

God knows what she’s agreed to in exchange for getting us in.

Sasha looks up as we get out of my car. Her smile disappears when her gaze fixes on Nate. She marches over to us and slaps Nate clean across the face, while I stare at her in shock.

“Sasha,” I gasp.

“Fuck,” Nate growls at her, rubbing his cheek. “What the hell was that for?”

“For being an asshole,” she spits.

“Sasha—”

“No.” She cuts me off. “I don’t care what identity crisis the guy is going through. Using my friend is not okay.” She looks at her phone. “You’re lucky my shift starts in five, or I’d do it again.” She glowers at him and then turns to me. “Sorry, I have to get back inside. Come find me after you talk to Luke, okay?”

“I will,” I nod and give her a quick hug. “Thanks for getting us in. The police are really here?” I add, feeling sick.

“Well no. But they could’ve been,” she says. “I just thought that might kick your ass into gear and get you back here faster.”

“Jesus, Sasha,” I growl.

“What?” she shrugs. “You can’t yell at me. I’m helping you, remember?”

“Sure.” I force myself to smile. “I guess I better get in there too.”

She gives me a sympathetic look. “Good luck explaining things to Luke.”

I smile. I get the feeling I’m going to need it.