Page 46 of Ripple Effect

I’m sure Logan’s sitting there, pissed off and confused, probably with a bruised ego to boot. The thought brings a sense of satisfaction I didn’t quite expect. Still, as I look at Elio, it’s not Logan’s humiliation that’s making me grin.

It’s the knowledge that this man—this ridiculously good-looking, self-assured man—stood up for me. In his own unique way, sure, but he stood up for me, nonetheless. It’s comforting, and exciting, and terrifying all at once.

“You’re grinning like a Cheshire cat,” he comments, chuckling at my obvious pleasure.

“What can I say?” I shrug, leaning back against the couch. “You’re very entertaining.”

He gives me a playful nudge, that smile never leaving his face. “And here I thought you’d be mad.”

I wave him off, reaching for my abandoned wineglass. “Why would I be mad? Logan had it coming. Plus, it was pretty clear you were lying or at least exaggerating.”

His brow furrows. “Was it?”

“I mean, come on.Insatiable?” I mumble, my cheeks heating under his sincere gaze. I hide my face behind my wineglass, hoping the dim light of the room will conceal my blush. “That’s not me.”

“Hmm.” He takes a deep swig from his water, setting it down on the coffee table before turning to look at me. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“I think we’re past that point by now.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugs, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “I’m just wondering, with what you told me earlier about wanting to explore yourself, is Logan the only person you’ve been with?”

The question catches me off guard, but I don’t hesitate in answering. “Yeah, he is.”

“Got it.” He nods, rubbing a hand over his face. “So, here’s the thing. I know you’re trying your best not to do this. But Daisy, you really shouldn’t take that dipshit’s opinions at face value. He obviously wasn’t the right person for you, and maybe with the right person, sex will be different. Or maybe it won’t be, and that’s okay, too.”

“I know. He just gets in my head sometimes.” I nervously fidget with a strand of hair, curling it between my fingers. “Did, um, did you find that with someone, then? I mean, I know you’ve had ... a lot of sexual partners. At least compared to me. But does it feel different when you have feelings for the person, when you’re with therightperson, or does it all kind of blend together?”

“I wouldn’t know for sure, but I can only assume.”

“Oh?”

He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve never had sex with someone I had feelings for. It’s always just been ... a performance. From my first time to the last.”

I stare at him in disbelief, a pang of sympathy hitting me at the thought. He must notice because he quickly adds, “But don’t feel sorry for me. I chose this path. Kinda hard to have a relationship when fucking other people is your day job.”

“But don’t you feel like you’re missing out?”

He gives me a humorless snort. “Can’t miss out on something you’ve never had.”

His words hang in the air, a cold, hard truth that momentarily chills the warmth between us. Behind the confident façade and the playful jabs, there’s a depth to him, a solitude that he wears like an uninvited guest.

“You know, I’m feeling kind of beat,” he finally says, his voice softer than before, stifling a yawn.

“Ah, okay.” I rise slowly from the comfortable nook I’ve settled into, taking care not to disturb Bentley in the process. “I guess it’s getting pretty late. I should leave the couch to you two.”

He gestures to the empty glasses and the discarded popcorn bowl beside us. “We’ll take care of this shit in the morning,” he says. “Still on for the Bobcats game?”

“Yep.” As I make my way to his bedroom, I glance back at him, offering a gentle smile. “Good night, El. Sleep well.”

“Night, Daisy.”

Once I’m tucked inside his room, I take a moment to unwind, to gather my thoughts. Then I brush my teeth and slip into a comfy, oversized T-shirt. As I snuggle under the covers, his words echo in my mind, and I can’t help but feel a little bit sad for him.

Despite his attempts to deny it, there’s a certain loneliness that clings to his skin, a sense of something missing from his life. And while I drift off to sleep in his bed, I wonder if maybe I could be the one to help him find it.

* * *

A quiet knockon the door interrupts my drowsy morning peace. “Hey, Daze?” Elio’s voice drifts into the room, smooth and deep.

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