Page 46 of Deep End

It gives him an idea, or maybe it was his plan all along. His finger slips inside, hooks just behind my teeth, hot and big and salty over the flat of my tongue. I let out a choked gasp and feel it inside me, electric, syrupy. Lukas could do whatever he wants to me, and I’d welcome it. Push the pad of his thumb deeper inside my mouth. Stand, undo his belt and his pants, grab the back of my head and—

He pulls back, and it’s like the first dive of every morning practice—freezing water slapping against my skin, jerking me awake. He stands and walks away, leaning against the doorframe. His arms fold on his chest, casual, unaffected. I was, maybe still am,ready to do pretty unspeakable things for him. In an open room. With thirty to forty people downstairs. If only he were to ask.

The shame eats at the arousal in my belly.

I guess I’mthatdesperate. I guess I could walk myself into interstate traffic.

“Okay.” Lukas’s voice snaps me out of my self-flagellating party. He looks authoritative. Making decisions. Laying out timelines. “We have to . . . this is what we’re going to do. You have two options. Say nothing, and I won’t ever bring up anything like this again. You and I meet at Avery, we work together on Olive’s project, whatever you want. But this conversation and the ones before never happened. Pen never got drunk, never told me about you. I never noticed you. I never touched you.”

Anything like this, he said.This. So vague. I understand exactly what he’s talking about. “The alternative?” I ask, surprised at how firm my voice is.

“Say the word, and . . .” His jaw tightens. I marvel at the play of lights on the hollow of his cheekbones. “We’re going to find a time and place to meet.” It’s a subtle shift, but his fist tightens under the elbow, knuckles bleeding white. It’s a sign, apromise. Goose bumps chill my skin. “And we’re going to negotiate.”

He gives me all the time I need to reply, and then some. He slouches, lazy, composed, and I’m struck by how much I want to say something, by how difficult it is. I can’t think clearly around the pounding of my heart. Around the odd mix of fear of making a mistake, fear ofnotmaking a mistake, and just pure fear lodged behind my sternum.

He gives me all the time I need, and when I stare in helpless silence, he’s true to his word. There is a moment of twitching tension, but it fades immediately. His smile is warm. “I’ll see you around, Scarlett.” Then he’s gone, padding away barefoot, as confident as when he arrived.

I, however, am a coward.

I beat myself up about it for five minutes, and it takes me ten more to collect myself enough to return downstairs. The lights have dimmed, and the party has gathered in the living room, around a sheet cake decorated with too many lit candles.

“. . . the thought process behind it?” someone is asking.

“I dunno—since Bree’s turning twenty-two, and Bella’s turning twenty-two—”

“You putforty-fourcandles on their cake?”

“That’s just not how it goddamn works, Devin.”

Kyle pats Devin on the back. “C’mon, Dale, let the kid show off his math.”

“Is it time to cut into thatamazingcake yet?” a girl next to me yells. There aren’t enough seats for everybody, and Pen is perched on one of Lukas’s legs, leaning forward as she chats with Rachel. Behind, Lukas is once again talking with Hasan. It’s like he never left.

Stupid, I tell myself.Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“There’s actually a surprise we’ve been working on for a while.” Devin clears out some space at the center of the room and looks at Kyle, whose phone is at the ready. “We have achoreographyfor you,” Dale declares.

The room fills—cheers, groans, whistles, claps. Bree shoots to her feet, almost flipping the cake over. “Oh my god, is it BTS?”

More excited screams.

“Can’t wait for when Coach asks mehowthey pulled a quad and are out for the season,” Lukas says.

“Just don’t drag BTS into this,” Hasan suggests. “Say they were giving a lap dance.”

“Shut up, you losers,” Pen commands. “This is gonna be the best!”

“Thank you, Pen.” Dale salutes her. “For your support, and for helping us refine this over countless sessions. You’re a true friend, unlike your boyfriend andhisboyfriend.”

“You guys, it was my pleasure.”

Lukas and Hasan exchange amused headshakes, and—

I’m always on the sidelines, always detached from what’s happening around me. I never mind. But tonight, watching Lukas laugh with others, something greedy opens up in my stomach.

A little hungry, too, he said upstairs. But I think it’s more than a little.

I think I might beravenous.

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