Page 10 of The Upgrade

“I made it to the opposite side of the boat and did it discreetly. But the next thing I know, everyone’s yelling about how the fish all disappeared.”

“Gross.” She sounds more amused than disgusted. “Did you fess up to feeding the wildlife?”

“Nope.” That probably makes me an asshole. “By the time I recovered enough to say something, the fish and the current had moved the evidence in the opposite direction. I figured everyone was better off without that visual.”

“Probably kind of you.”

“Do I get another question?” We’re almost to the venue, but I’m enjoying this time with Eve.

“Fire away.” She re-crosses her legs and I try not to notice her dress riding up sleek, bare legs.

“Tell me a funny teenage memory.”

“Hmm, tough one.” She hesitates only a second. “I wouldn’t normally share this with a stranger, but it seems okay given the sexual nature of your research.”

There’s thepingof my interest being piqued. “Let’s hear it.”

“I was sixteen when I discovered tool-based masturbation. With a vibrator, I mean.”

“I’m familiar.” My God, she’s fucking adorable.

“It’s right around the same time my mother married my stepfather.”

“Oh no.” I must look alarmed because Eve grabs my arm.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a molestation story. I promise it’s funny.” Her smile falters only a little. “I mean, it wasn’t funny at the time. My stepdad left for Bible study and I thought I had the house to myself for a few hours. I busted out the so-called back massager Camille bought me for my birthday and put on a Justin Timberlake video.”

“Justin Timberlake?” Intriguing detail.

“My teenage crush.” She grins. “My go-to spank bank material for years.”

“Understandable.”

“Anyway, between the buzz of the vibrator and the sound ofSexy Backblaring on my laptop, I didn’t hear my stepdad come home.”

“Oh, God.”

“Or the six deacons he brought with him from the Faith Baptist fellowship.”

“Oh, Eve…that’s—” Seriously traumatizing. But she’s telling this as a funny story, so pity’s not the right response. “You must have been mortified.”

“Kinda.” She shrugs. “To be honest, I’d spent so much time around your family by then that it didn’t really hit me the way you’d think. Your mom’s so sex positive and raised a six-pack of sex-positive daughters. I didn’t feel shame right away.”

My therapist brain hears the “but” that’s unspoken. “What did you do?”

“I switched off the massager, straightened my sweatpants, and as cool as could be, asked, ‘did you guys need the couch?’”

“That’s fantastic.” I’m so fucking glad she just shared that. It tells me a lot about Eve.

“My stepdad made excuses about me needing the massager for a softball groin injury. After they left, I got a talk about appropriate behavior for a young lady.”

“That’s awful.” I need to tread carefully so I’m not shaming her further. “That’s a lot for a teenager to deal with.”

“It all worked out fine,” she says, though I see in her eyes that’s not totally true. “It’s one of the reasons I got to live with your family my senior year. That, and the voicemail.”

“Voicemail?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

“I told this guy I’d been dating that I wanted to try dirty talk.” Eve laughs. “He left me this message that was exactly as cringey as you’d assume a teenager’s dirty talk would be.”

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