JENNIE

"Kim. Hey, it's Jennie. I was—"

"Go ahead." She cuts me off. "I already told Christian you probably wouldn't be in today."

"I'm sorry for asking. I—"

"Jennie, it's fine. We get it." The sincerity in her voice makes me smile despite my annoyance with Lisa. It's nice to finally have a female friend. The weight of Wendy's betrayal is something I'm having a hard time lifting from my chest. I look around my temporary bedroom and remind myself that I'm hours away from her, from that campus, from all the friends I thought I had made during my first semester at college, all of them fakes. This is my life now. Seattle is where I belong, and I'll never have to see Wendy or any of them again.

"Thank you so much," I tell her.

"You don't have to thank me. Just remember that all the main rooms in the house are under surveillance." Kimberly laughs. "I'm sure that after the gym incident you wouldn't forget that."

My eyes dart up to Lisa as she enters the bedroom.

Her expectant grin and the way those dark blue jeans hang low on her hips distract me from Kimberly's words. I have to scramble to remember what she said only seconds ago.

The gym? Oh God. My blood runs cold, and Lisa stalks toward me.

"Um, yeah," I mumble, holding my hand up to stop Lisa from coming any closer.

"Have fun." Kimberly ends the call.

"They have cameras in the gym! They saw us!" I say, panicking.

Lisa shrugs as if it's no big deal. "They turned them off before they saw anything."

"Lisa! They know we . . . you know, in their gym!" My hands fly through the air in front of me. "I'm so mortified!" I cover my face with my hands, but Lisa quickly removes them.

"They didn't see anything. I spoke to them already. Calm down. Don't you think I would've lost my shit if he'd actually seen anything on tape?"

I relax, slightly. She's right; she would've been much more upset than she appears to be right now, but that doesn't mean that I'm not completely humiliated by the fact that they know, even if they did stop the tape.

But wait, what does "tape" even mean here—everything's digital. And they could have just said they stopped the cameras but really all they did was just look away . . .

"The footage . . . it's not saved anywhere or anything, right?" I can't help but ask the question. My fingertip traces over the small cross tattoo on Lisa's hand.

Lisa lowers her eyes at me defensively. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Lisa's . . . old hobbies flash through my mind. "That's not what I meant," I say quickly. Maybe too quickly.

"You sure?" she asks. I watch as her features harden and her eyes fill with guilt. "I mean, how would you know what I was worried you were thinking about if you hadn't already been thinking about it yourself?"

"Don't," I say strongly and close the small space between us.

"Don't what?" she asks.

I can read her thoughts in this moment; I can see her reliving the terrible things she has done. "Don't do that; don't go back there."

"I can't help it." She rubs her hand down her face in a slow yet frenzied motion. "Is that what you were thinking? That I knew about the tape, and that I let him watch it?"

"What? No! I would never think that," I say honestly. "I only connected the tape from the gym to . . . to what happened before when you said something. It just reminded me of that—I never thought you were doing that now." My fingers wrap around the tattered neckline of her black T-shirt. "I know you would never show anyone a tape of me." I stare into her eyes, willing her to believe me.

"If anyone ever did something like that to you . . ." She takes a long pause and a deep breath. "I don't know what I would do to them, even if it was Vance," she grimly admits. Lisa's temper is something I've grown very familiar with over the last six months.

I stand on my tiptoes so I can look her in the eyes. "It won't happen."

"Something terrible almost did, though, only last week with Wendy and June." A shudder shakes her shoulders, and I desperately search for the right thing to say to her to pull her out of this dark place.

"Nothing happened." The irony of my being the one to comfort her now, when the trauma was actually something that happened to me, isn't lost on me; but this role reversal speaks true to the nature of our relationship and Lisa's need to blame herself for things she can't control. Just like her mother, just like me. I can see this now.

"If he had been inside you . . ."

The words bring back vague flashes of memory from that night, images of June's fingers running up my thigh, of Wendy pulling at my dress.

"I don't want to discuss the hypothetical." I lean into her, and her arms wrap around my waist, caging me, protecting me from bad memories and nonexistent threats.

She glowers. "We've barely discussed it at all."

"I don't want to. We talked about it enough at my mother's house, and this is not how I want to spend my newly cleared afternoon." I give her the best smile I can manage in a failed attempt to lighten the mood.

"I couldn't bear anyone hurting you like that. I hate the thought of him violating you. It makes me murderous—all I see is red. I can't handle it." Lisa's angry expression has not lightened, only intensified. Her green eyes burn into mine, and the rough grip of her fingers tightens on the span of my hips.

"Let's not talk about it, then. I want you to try and forget it, like I have." I caress her back with my fingers, gently begging her to forget the whole thing. It won't do either of us any good to harp on it. It was terrible and disgusting, but I won't let it rule me. "I love you—I love you so, so much."

Her mouth catches mine, and I wrap my fingers around her arms, pulling her closer to me.

Between breaths, I say, "So focus on me, Lisa. Only on m—"

I'm interrupted by the pressure of her mouth on mine again, possessing me, proving her commitment to both me and herself. Her tongue is hard, pushing through my lips to massage mine. Lisa's fingertips dig into my hips even further, and I whimper as her hands glide up my stomach to my chest. She cups my breasts, and I push into her body harder, filling her greedy hands.

"Show me that it's only me," she whispers into my mouth, and I know exactly what she wants, what she needs.

I drop to my knees in front of her and hastily tug at the lone button on her jeans. The zipper proves to be more of a problem, and I briefly consider ripping the jagged metal lining and destroying it altogether. However, I can't bring myself to do this, considering how hot she looks in the tight blue jeans. My fingertips slowly graze over the light dusting of hair leading from her navel to the waistband of her boxers, and she groans impatiently.

"Please," she begs, "no teasing."

I give a small nod and pull down her boxers, letting them pool at her calves atop the bunched-up jeans. Lisa groans once more, this time much louder, much more primal, and I take her into my mouth. Slow movements and flicks of my tongue say the things that I try to instill in her paranoid mind, reassuring her that these acts of pleasure are different from anything someone could force me into.

I love her. I'm aware that what I'm doing now may not be the healthiest way to handle her anger and anxiety, but my need for her is stronger than my moral compass, which, at the moment, is smugly waving a self-help book in front of my face.

"I fucking love that I'm the only one who has had your mouth," she groans as I use one hand to take what my mouth cannot. "Those lips have only been wrapped around me." A quick movement of her hips makes me gag, and she reaches down to run her thumb along my forehead. "Look at me," she instructs.

And I happily comply. I'm enjoying this just as much as she is. I always do. I love the way her eyelids fall closed with each long stroke of my tongue against her. I love the way she grunts and groans when I add more suction.

"Fuck, you know exactly . . ." Her head rolls back, and I can feel the muscles in her legs tightening under my hand, which I've rested on her to steady myself. "I'm the only one who you'll ever be on your knees in front of . . ."

I press my thighs together to relieve some of the tension her filthy mouth arouses in me. Lisa uses one hand to steady herself against the wall as my mouth brings her closer and closer to her high. I keep my eyes on her, knowing that it drives her absolutely crazy to watch me as I enjoy pleasuring her so much. Her free hand moves down from the top of my head to my mouth, and she runs the pad of her thumb across my top lip, moving in and out of my mouth at a quickening pace.

"Fuck, Jen." Her body goes rigid as she tells me how good it feels, how much she loves me, while she climbs closer to release. I take all of her, moaning while she's filling my mouth—and she groans, emptying herself on my tongue. I keep sucking, milking every drop of her release as she softly rubs my cheek with her thumb.

I lean into her touch, reveling in its tenderness, and she gently helps me to my feet. The moment I'm standing next to her, she's pulling me into her arms, hugging me in an intimate gesture that almost overwhelms me.

"I'm sorry for dragging all that shit up," she whispers into my hair.

"Shh," I whisper back, not wanting to backtrack to the dark conversation we left behind only minutes ago.

"Bend over the bed, baby," Lisa says, and it takes me a moment to register her words. She doesn't give me an opportunity to respond before she's gently pushing her palm against the small of my back, guiding me to the edge of the mattress. Her hands grip my thighs, pushing my skirt up my legs until my entire behind is bared to her.

I want her so badly that it physically hurts. An ache that only she can soothe. As I move to step out of my shoes, she presses her palm against my back again.

"No, leave them on," she growls.

I groan as my panties are pushed to the side and she slides a finger inside of me. She steps closer, her legs nearly touching mine, her cock softly teasing the back of my legs.

"So soft, baby, so warm." She adds another finger, and I groan, leaning all my weight onto my elbows on the mattress. My back arches when she finds a rhythm, steadily entering me, dragging her long fingers into and out of me.

"Your sounds are so sexy, Jen," she coos, closing the gap between our bodies so I feel her hard cock pressing against me.

"Please, Lisa." I groan, needing her now. Within seconds she fills me in the way that only she has and only she ever will. I lust for her, but it's nothing compared to the overwhelming, all-consuming, judgment-altering love that I have for her, and I know deep down—deep in the depth of me that only she and I can see—that it will always be only her.

LATER, AS WE'RE LYING IN bed, Lisa whines, "I don't want to go," and in a very un-Lisa-like gesture, she leans her head down and buries it in my shoulder, wrapping her arms and legs around my body. Her thick hair tickles my skin. I try to tame it with my fingers, but there is simply too much of it.

"I need a haircut," she announces, as if answering my thoughts.

"I like it this way." I gently tug at the damp strands.

"You wouldn't tell me if you didn't," she says, calling me out. She's right, but only because I couldn't imagine a hairstyle on Lisa that wouldn't flatter her. Still, I do happen to love her hair this length.

"Your phone is ringing again," I point out, and she lifts her head to shoot me a glare. "Something could be wrong with my father, and I'm trying my best not to freak out, and I really want to trust you, so please just answer it," I rattle out.

"If it's something with your father, Jisoo can handle it, Jennie."

"Lisa, you know how hard it is for me not—?"

"Jennie," she says to silence me, but then she climbs off the bed and retrieves the vibrating phone from the desk.

"See, it's my mum." She holds the screen up so the word "Chit" is clear from where she stands. I really wish she'd listen to me and change her entry to "Mom" in her phone, but she refuses. Baby steps, I remind myself.

"Answer it! It could be an emergency." I climb off the bed and try to grab the phone from her quick hands.

"She's fine. She's been pestering me all morning." Lisa childishly holds the phone up over my head.

"About what?" I ask her and watch as she turns the power off on the device.

"Nothing important. You know how annoying she can be."

"She's not annoying," I say in Chit's defense. She's very sweet, and I love her sense of humor. Something which her daughter could use more of.

"You're just as annoying as she is; I knew you would say that." She grins. Her long fingers reach out to tuck my hair behind my ears.

I give her a fake evil eye. "You're being awfully charming today. Aside from calling me annoying just now, of course." I'm not complaining, but given our history, I'm afraid that this behavior will disappear when our blissful weekend has ended.

"Would you prefer me to be an asshole?" She raises a brow.

I smile, enjoying her playful behavior, no matter how briefly it lasts.