Page 76 of Road Trip to Forever
“Shit,” Patrick says. “That’s my alarm. Let me turn it off.”
“That’s okay,” I answer, crashing back to reality. “We should probably—I should… I’ll be right back.” I wiggle myself free from the sleeping bag and scoot toward the tent flaps.
“Lola. Please don’t run. Not from me.”
“I’m not… I’m not running. I promise. I just need a second. A minute.”
My feet land on the grass and I take off at a sprint toward the bathhouse. I lock the door behind me and turn the sink on as cold as it will go. I lift my shirt and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
There might not be a physical mark where Patrick touched me, but I know.
I’ve been burned. Torched and branded in the spots he caressed.
Above my belly button. Below my ribs. Under the swell of my breasts and over my heart. For as long as I live, if anyone else ever touches there, I’ll think,Patrick touched me there first.
Nothing will ever be the same.
“Breathe,” I say to myself, splashing a handful of water on my face and curling my fingers around the porcelain basin. “So you almost got off with your best friend? It’s no big deal. Everything isfine.”
We need to talk before we get physical. Use our words, not our hands, to find out what the other wants. Long-term. Short-term. Any term between. We—I—have to be sure, because if—when—he finally kisses me, I know we can’t take it back.
I wash my face until you can no longer tell if the red on my cheeks is from the memory of him behind me, his knee nudging my legs open, or the thorough scrub I’m giving myself.
Still worked up and not anywhere close to being satisfied, I exit the bathroom and hope I’m not shaking like a leaf. I spot Patrick climbing out of the tent. He’s pulled a shirt over his head and he’s scanning the camping area. When he finds me, his shoulders relax. He tilts his head to the side, a silent question in place.
Are we good? he asks.
We’re grand,I say back.Just grand.
Moisture clings to my shins and calves as I make my way back to our site. A mosquito buzzes near my nose, and I swat it away. Patrick’s eyes brighten as I approach.
“I thought you might have gotten eaten by a bear,” he says, his voice back to normal. Calm, cool and collected.
Awesome.
I guess we’re just going to ignore that wholeI saw my best friend’s erectionpart of the morning.
“Nope. Still here.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod and give him a thumbs up, cringing internally at how lame I must look. “All good.”
“Okay,” he says. “That’s good.”
“Are you good?”
If I blinked, I would’ve missed his eyes dipping to my chest and how quickly they drag away. “I’m great.”
“That’s great.”
“Super great.”
“Stop being weird,” I say, knocking his shoulder with mine.
“You first. You practically sprinted from the tent.”
“I had to pee.”
