this.”
“Fuck,” Preston growled beside me, and threw his head back against the headrest. “It wasn’t a dream. It’s a memory. Shit. ”
A dream? What was he talking about? Now I was confused.
“Manda, please tell me I didn’t . . .” He stopped and swallowed loudly, then took a deep breath. “Please tell me I didn’t . . . I didn’t have sex with you in a storage room. On boxes.”
I couldn’t exactly tell him that. So I didn’t respond. I kept on driving.
“Fuck me!” Preston roared, and balled up his hands into fists on his legs.
“I already did that. Didn’t end well,” I replied.
“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” The emotion in his voice surprised me. Was it that big a deal that we’d had sex? It hadn’t been very memorable for him, obviously. So why was he having a breakdown about it now? I was the one who should be upset. Not him.
“I’m just being honest,” I replied as I pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building.
“I thought it was a dream,” he said in a low voice. His head was still back on the headrest and his eyes were closed tightly. I felt a little sorry for him.
“I’m not going to tell Marcus. If I was going to tell him, I would have done so by now.” I was reassuring him. I couldn’t help myself. I hated seeing him so upset.
Preston opened his eyes and looked at me. “I’m not upset because I think you’re going to tell your brother.” He let out a ragged sigh. “But I guess you’d think that of me. Why wouldn’t you?”
“You have sex with different girls every night. I was one of them one night. Maybe just the first one that night. Who knows?” The bitterness in my voice couldn’t be helped.
Preston’s expression looked tortured. “Manda. I was drunk. Very, very drunk. I woke up the next morning and thought it was all a dream. I’ve actually relived it many times in my dreams since then. I never realized I’d . . . God, I can’t believe I took you to a storage unit behind a bar.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
Okay. I couldn’t take this anymore. He was beating himself up over this, and it was partly my fault. I’d been the idiot, to go outside with him and allow what had happened to happen. I could have put a stop to it.
“I could have stopped it. I didn’t want to,” I said. I wasn’t going to tell him that I’d been fantasizing about having sex with him for years. That was the one piece of this secret I could keep to myself.
“Why? Why would you let me do that? You deserve so much more than that.” He paused and stared at me intently. “Tell me that wasn’t your first time.”
Did I lie here? Or did I tell him the truth? Lying would make us both feel better. Or at least, it would make him feel better. I would think about it all the time.
“I chose to do it. I wasn’t drinking. I was completely sober that night, and I chose to let it be you.”
Preston slung the car door open and got out. I sat there and watched him as he paced in front of the car. He ran his hands through his hair several times, and I caught myself wishing I could do that. I loved the way his hair felt. That night might be something I regret later in life when I meet the guy I marry, but right now I couldn’t make myself regret it. I had a really good memory of Preston. Even if he hadn’t kissed me and he’d walked away and left me when it was over.
I sat in the car and watched Preston deal with this information more dramatically than I’d expected him to. When he finally stopped pacing and looked at me, I opened the car door and got out.
“I was your first. That night. I took your virginity in a shitty storage unit on a bunch of boxes.” It wasn’t a question. He was just stating the facts.
I nodded.
“Did you know I was completely trashed?”
No. I hadn’t known that. I’d known he had been drinking, but apparently I hadn’t known he had been drinking that much. I shook my
“Fuck,” Preston growled beside me, and threw his head back against the headrest. “It wasn’t a dream. It’s a memory. Shit. ”
A dream? What was he talking about? Now I was confused.
“Manda, please tell me I didn’t . . .” He stopped and swallowed loudly, then took a deep breath. “Please tell me I didn’t . . . I didn’t have sex with you in a storage room. On boxes.”
I couldn’t exactly tell him that. So I didn’t respond. I kept on driving.
“Fuck me!” Preston roared, and balled up his hands into fists on his legs.
“I already did that. Didn’t end well,” I replied.
“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” The emotion in his voice surprised me. Was it that big a deal that we’d had sex? It hadn’t been very memorable for him, obviously. So why was he having a breakdown about it now? I was the one who should be upset. Not him.
“I’m just being honest,” I replied as I pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building.
“I thought it was a dream,” he said in a low voice. His head was still back on the headrest and his eyes were closed tightly. I felt a little sorry for him.
“I’m not going to tell Marcus. If I was going to tell him, I would have done so by now.” I was reassuring him. I couldn’t help myself. I hated seeing him so upset.
Preston opened his eyes and looked at me. “I’m not upset because I think you’re going to tell your brother.” He let out a ragged sigh. “But I guess you’d think that of me. Why wouldn’t you?”
“You have sex with different girls every night. I was one of them one night. Maybe just the first one that night. Who knows?” The bitterness in my voice couldn’t be helped.
Preston’s expression looked tortured. “Manda. I was drunk. Very, very drunk. I woke up the next morning and thought it was all a dream. I’ve actually relived it many times in my dreams since then. I never realized I’d . . . God, I can’t believe I took you to a storage unit behind a bar.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
Okay. I couldn’t take this anymore. He was beating himself up over this, and it was partly my fault. I’d been the idiot, to go outside with him and allow what had happened to happen. I could have put a stop to it.
“I could have stopped it. I didn’t want to,” I said. I wasn’t going to tell him that I’d been fantasizing about having sex with him for years. That was the one piece of this secret I could keep to myself.
“Why? Why would you let me do that? You deserve so much more than that.” He paused and stared at me intently. “Tell me that wasn’t your first time.”
Did I lie here? Or did I tell him the truth? Lying would make us both feel better. Or at least, it would make him feel better. I would think about it all the time.
“I chose to do it. I wasn’t drinking. I was completely sober that night, and I chose to let it be you.”
Preston slung the car door open and got out. I sat there and watched him as he paced in front of the car. He ran his hands through his hair several times, and I caught myself wishing I could do that. I loved the way his hair felt. That night might be something I regret later in life when I meet the guy I marry, but right now I couldn’t make myself regret it. I had a really good memory of Preston. Even if he hadn’t kissed me and he’d walked away and left me when it was over.
I sat in the car and watched Preston deal with this information more dramatically than I’d expected him to. When he finally stopped pacing and looked at me, I opened the car door and got out.
“I was your first. That night. I took your virginity in a shitty storage unit on a bunch of boxes.” It wasn’t a question. He was just stating the facts.
I nodded.
“Did you know I was completely trashed?”
No. I hadn’t known that. I’d known he had been drinking, but apparently I hadn’t known he had been drinking that much. I shook my
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