JENNIE

When I wake up, Lisa isn't draped over me, and the room is too bright even when I close my eyes again. Keeping them closed, I groan, "What time is it?"

My head is throbbing, and even though I know I'm lying down, my body feels like it's swaying back and forth.

"Noon," Lisa's deep voice says from across the room.

"Noon! I missed my first two classes!" I try to sit up, but my head spins. I fall back onto the mattress with a whimper.

"You're fine; go back to sleep."

"No! I can't miss any more classes, Lisa. I just started classes at this campus, and I can't begin this way." I begin to panic. "I'm going to be so behind."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Lisa says with a shrug, crossing the room to sit on the bed. "You probably already have the assignments completed anyway."

She knows me too well. "That's not the point. The point is that I missed the lecture, and it makes me look bad."

"To whom?" Lisa asks. I know she is mocking me.

"To my professors, my classmates."

"Jennie, I love you, but come on. Your classmates couldn't give less of a fuck if you're there or not. They probably didn't even notice. Your professors, yeah, because you're a suck-up and they like the ego boosts your fawning gives them. But your classmates don't care, and if they do, then so what? Their opinion doesn't fucking matter."

"I guess." I close my eyes and try to see her point. I hate being late, missing classes, sleeping until noon. "I'm not a suck-up," I add.

"How are you feeling?" I feel the mattress shift, and when I open my eyes she's lying next to me.

"Like I had too much to drink last night." My skull is ready to explode.

"You certainly did." She nods several times, very seriously. "How's your ass feeling?" Her hand grips my behind, and I wince.

"We didn't . . ." I wasn't that intoxicated . . . was I?

"No." She chuckles, kneading the skin with her hand. Her eyes meet mine. "Not yet."

I gulp.

"Only if you want to. You've turned into a fucking vixen, so I assumed that would be next on your list."

Me, a vixen?

"Don't look so frightened, it was only a suggestion." She smiles at me.

I can't decide how I feel about doing that . . . and I certainly can't keep up or process this type of conversation right now.

But my curiosity gets the best of me.

"Have you . . ." I don't know how to ask the question—this is one of the few things we've never discussed; her saying dirty things about doing it to me in the heat of the moment doesn't count. "Have you done that before?"

I search her face for the answer.

"No, actually, I haven't."

"Oh." I'm too aware of her fingers tapping along the bare skin where the line of my panties would be, were I wearing any. The fact that Lisa has never experienced that before makes me want to do it, sort of.

"What are you thinking? I see those wheels turning." She nudges my nose with her, and I smile under her stare.

"I like that you haven't done . . . it before . . ."

"Why?" Her brow raises, and I hide my face.

"I don't know." I'm suddenly shy. I don't want to sound insecure or start a fight. I already have a hangover.

"Tell me," she demands softly.

"I don't know. It would just be nice to be your first for something."

She lifts herself up on her elbow and looks down at me. "What do you mean?"

"I just mean that you've done a lot of stuff . . . you know, sexually . . ." I quietly explain. "And I haven't given you any new experiences."

She eyes me carefully, as if she's afraid to reply. "That's not true."

"It is, though." I'm pouting again.

"Like hell it is. That's bullshit, and you know it." Her voice is practically a growl, and she's scowling deeply.

"Don't snap at me—how do you think I feel that you haven't been with only me?" I say. The reminder doesn't come as often as it once did, but when it does, it stings terribly.

She winces and gently tugs at both of my arms to pull me to sit up next to her. "Come here." I feel myself being lifted onto her lap; her half-naked body is warm and welcoming underneath my completely bare skin.

"I didn't think of it that way," she says into my shoulder, making me shudder. "If you had been with anyone else, I wouldn't be with you now."

My head snaps back to look at her. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She kisses the curve of my shoulder.

"That's not a very nice thing to say." I'm used to Lisa's unfiltered mouth, but these words surprise me. She can't mean them.

"I never claimed to be nice."

I shift my body on her lap and ignore the groan deep in her throat. "You're being serious?"

"Very." She nods.

"So you're telling me if I hadn't been a virgin, you wouldn't have dated me?" This topic isn't one we typically discuss, and I'm nervous to find out where it will lead.

Her eyes narrow as she regards my expression before muttering, "That's exactly what I'm saying. If you recall, I didn't really want to date you anyway." She grins, but I scowl.

I press my feet to the floor to lift myself off of her lap, but she holds me in place. "Don't pout," she coaxes and attempts to press her lips against mine, but I quickly turn my head.

I glare at her. "Maybe you shouldn't have dated me, then." I feel overly sensitive, and my feelings are hurt.

I add gasoline to the fire and wait for the explosion: "Maybe you should have just ended it after you won the bet."

I stare into her green eyes, waiting for a reaction. Still, it doesn't come. She throws her back in laughter, and my favorite sound fills the room.

"Don't be such a baby," Liss says and hugs me tighter, taking both of my wrists in one hand to prevent me from wiggling off her lap. "Just because I didn't want to date you in the beginning doesn't mean that I'm not glad I am."

"It's still not nice to say, and you said you wouldn't be with me now if I'd been with someone else. So if I had slept with Kai before I met you, you wouldn't have dated me?"

She flinches at the words. "No. I wouldn't have. We wouldn't have been in that . . . situation . . . if you weren't a virgin." She's treading lightly now. Good.

"'Situation,'" I repeat, still irritated. It comes out harsher than I intended.

"Yes, situation." She abruptly turns me around and lays me back against the mattress. She moves her body on top of mine and pins my wrists up over my head using only one hand and her knees to push open my thighs. "I wouldn't be able to stand it if you'd been touched by another man. I know it's fucking crazy, but that's the damn truth, whether you want to hear it or not."

Her breath is warm against my face, coming out in hot puffs. Momentarily I forget why I'm annoyed with her. She's being honest, I'll give her that, but it's an obnoxious double standard that she's describing.

"Whatever."

"'Whatever'?" She chuckles, tightening her hand around my wrists. She flexes her hips, pressing her boxer-clad body between my thighs. "Stop being ridiculous, you know how I am." I feel so exposed right now, and her dominating behavior is turning me on more than it should.

She continues. "And you know you've given me new experiences. I've never loved anyone, romantically, or even family, really . . ." Her eyes drift off to ponder what I guess is a painful memory, but then she quickly returns to me. "And I've never lived with anyone. I never gave a fuck about losing anyone before, but when it comes to you, I wouldn't survive it. That's a new experience." Her lips ghost over mine. "Is that enough 'new experience' for you?"

I nod, and she smiles. If I lift my head up just a centimeter, my lips will touch hers. She seems to read my thoughts and pulls her head back a bit. "And don't throw that bet shit in my face again," she threatens, rubbing herself against me. A treacherous moan escapes her mouth, and her eyes darken. "Got it?"

"Sure." I defiantly roll my eyes at her, and she frees my wrists, running her hand down my body, stopping on my hip and squeezing gently.

"You're being a brat today." She draws circles on my hip, putting more weight on my body.

I feel like a brat today; I'm hungover and hormonal. "You're being an ass, so I guess we're even," I fire back.

She bites the inside of her cheek, then dips her head down to me. Lisa's lips are warm as she kisses me along my jawline, sending a direct line of electricity to my groin. I wrap my legs around her waist and close the small space that's left between our bodies.

"I've only loved you," she reminds me again, soothing the small ache from her earlier words. Her lips reach the base of my neck, and one of her hands cups my breast while she uses the other to hold her body up. "I'll always only love you."

I don't speak. I don't want to ruin this moment. I love when she's candid about her feelings for me, and for once I can see this all in a new light. Wendy, Nancy, and half of the dang campus of WCU may have fooled around with Lisa, but none of them, not one single girl, has ever gotten to hear her say "I love you." They haven't had, and will never have, the privilege of knowing her, the real her, the way that I do. They have no idea how wonderful and incredibly brilliant she is. They don't get to hear her laugh and watch her eyes screw shut and her dimples pop. They'll never get to hear the snippets of her life or hear the conviction in her voice when she swears that she loves me more than breathing. And for that, I pity them.

"I've only loved you," I tell her in return. The love I had for Kai wasn't anything beyond family. I know that now. I love Lisa in that all-consuming, incredible way that I know, deep down, I will never feel again.

I feel Lisa's hand move to her boxers. She tugs them down, and I use my feet to help her get rid of them. In a gentle motion, she slides into me, crying out as she plunges through the slick opening.

"Again," she begs.

"I've only loved you," I repeat.

"Fucking Christ, Jen, I love you so much." The words are a raw confession as they push through her gritted mouth.

"I will always only love you," I promise her. I send a silent prayer that we'll find a way to work through all of our problems, because I know what I just said is true. It will always be her. Even if something drove us apart.

Lisa's thrusts are deep, filling and claiming me as she bites and sucks at the skin on my neck with her warm, wet mouth.

"I can feel you, every single inch . . . you're so fucking warm . . ." she groans, making it known that she hasn't put a condom on. Even through the euphoric trance, warning bells go off in my head. I blink the sensation away and revel in the feeling of Lisa's strong muscles straining under my hands as I run my hands over her broad shoulders and inked arms.

"You have to put one on," I say, though my actions are the opposite of my words; I tighten my legs around her waist, drawing her deeper. My stomach begins to coil, tightening . . .

"I . . . can't stop . . ." Her pace quickens, and I think I'll snap in two if she stops now.

"Don't, then." We're both insane, not thinking clearly, but I can't stop raking my nails down her back, encouraging her.

"Fuck, come, Jennie," whe instructs me as if I have a choice. As I reach the brink of orgasm, I'm afraid I may pass out from the amount of pleasure I feel when her teeth graze across my chest, tugging, marking me there. With another groan of my name and a declaration of her love for me, Lisa halts her movements, and she pulls herself out of me, releasing herself onto the bare skin of my stomach. I watch in awe as she touches herself, marking me in the most possessive way while never breaking eye contact.

She collapses onto me, shaking and out of breath. We lie in silence, neither of us needing to speak to know what the other is thinking.

"WHERE DO YOU want to go?" I ask her. I don't even want to leave the bed, but Lisa offering to take me out in Seattle, during the day, is something that hasn't happened in the past, and I'm not sure if or when it will happen again.

"I don't give a shit, really. Maybe, like, shopping?" Her eyes roam my face. "Do you need to go shopping? Or want to?"

"I don't really need anything . . ." I answer. When I look up and see how nervous she looks lying there next to me, I backtrack. "Yeah, sure. Shopping is fine."

She's making such an effort. Simple things that couples usually do are completely out of Lisa's comfort zone. I smile at her, remembering the night she took me ice skating to prove that she could, in fact, be a regular girlfriend.

It was so much fun, and she was so charming and playful, much like she's been the past week and a half. I don't want a "regular" girlfriend—I want Lisa, with her crude humor and sour attitude, to take me on simple dates every once in a while and make me feel secure enough in our relationship that the downs will be washed away by the ups.

"Cool." She shifts uncomfortably.

"I just need to brush my teeth and tie my hair back."

"And maybe get dressed." She cups the overly sensitive area between my thighs. Lisa has already used one of her shirts to wipe me clean, something she used to do all the time.

"Right. Maybe I should rinse off in the shower." I gulp, wondering if Lisa and I will go another round before we leave. Frankly, I don't know if either of us could handle it.

I stand up from the bed and wince. I knew I was going to be starting my period any day now; why did it have to come right now, of all days? I suppose it works in my favor, though, since it'll be gone by the time we leave for Thailand.

Leave for Thailand . . . it doesn't seem real.

"What?" Lisa says with a questioning look.

"I'm . . . it's that time . . ." I look away from her, knowing that she's had an entire month to store up her jokes.

"Hmm . . . and what time is that?" She smirks, looking at her bare wrist as if there's a watch there.

"Don't . . ." I whine, pressing my thighs together so I can hurry and put on enough clothes to make it to the bathroom.

"Would you look at that? A hangover and a bloody attitude!" she taunts.

"Your jokes are terrible." I pull her T-shirt over my head and catch the languid smile she shoots at me as she takes in the sight of me wearing her shirt again.

"Terrible, huh?" Her green eyes dance with amusement. "Maybe so terrible that you want to pull the plug on them?"

I hurry and exit the room while she's still laughing to herself.