Page 69 of Sex Positive

“Charlie—”

But she keeps going. “I grew up being told I had to act a certain way until I got married. That the only way to live was to do what God and the Bible said. But that never felt right to me, and now that they know I work for a clinic that prescribes contraception, treats gay, nonbinary, and transgender patients, and performs abortions, I am a disappointment in their eyes.”

She doesn’t believe she’s ever been this honest with Wes, and a flush crawls across her cheeks, her skin prickling.

“But I know I made the right decision when I quit catering to their expectations. Istruggled with guilt for a long time, but it was my choice to stop trying to be the perfect daughter, and I’m stronger for it.” She sighs, tapping her now empty coffee mug. “Everyone deserves to live their life on their own terms without other people’s ideas being shoved down their throat. Parents should teach children important things, like how to be kind and forgiving, smart and resourceful. But they should also respect them as individuals and allow them to form their own opinions and values and how to decide what’s best for them, what makes them happy. You shouldn’t do something because it’s what others want.”

While she wants to look away, she clings to a shred of boldness and holds her gaze steady.

“For what it’s worth,” she adds, “I think you’d be a great teacher.”

Wes clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, Rogers.”

She waves him off. “I’ve moved past it. It hurts sometimes, but I’ve known for a while that family doesn’t need to be blood related. But sometimes it’s hard to let people down.”

He smiles softly. “I can’t imagine you letting anyone down.”

She doesn’t look away. “Can’t you?”

His smile fades, and he studies her for longer than necessary. Finally he says, “What happened freshman year?”

Silence suffocates the room. Her brain buzzes, short-circuiting at the sudden change of topic.

She’s never told him. Never thought he cared—his popularity across campus ensured that he never wanted for friends. Now, though, the hurt in his eyes fills her with aching remorse. It’s the same pain she’s been feeling all along. She stares into her empty mug, finally understanding that not only did he hurt her, she hurt him back.

“One day we were friends.” He swallows thickly. “And then you justdisappeared. With no explanation.” She looks up as he runs his hand through his hair. “I drove myself crazy trying to figure out what happened, overanalyzing everything I could have done wrong.” His eyes shine with raw emotion.

She can’t tell him the truth. Not all of it—that she fell in love with him, but he broke her heart with cruel words, and she knew he’d never feel the same about her.

She swallows around the sudden tightness in her throat. “You left me at that party. The stoplight party. I didn’t want to go, and you promised you wouldn’t leave my side. But when I left the bathroom, you were gone.”

She doesn’t add the worst part—how overhearing him and Mia talking about her completely wrecked her, but alarm crosses his face when he realizes what she’s talking about.

“I know it’s stupid,” she continues. “I should have told you, but I was too hurt. I thought I didn’t matter to you because you broke your promise. You were—are—Wesley Quinn. I thought you had everything, so why would I matter?”

He begins shaking his head even before she finishes. “You were the only real friend I had that year, Rogers. You made my life better. It felt like everyone else wanted something from me that I couldn’t give them.”

Tears prick her eyes at his words, but she holds them back. When he covers her fingers with his, something lifts from her shoulders despite not confessing everything, a heaviness she didn’t realize she’d been carrying all this time.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to break a promise or lose your trust. I didn’t even think. Mia came up to me—”

“You don’t have to explain,” she says quickly.

He squeezes her hand. “Do you think we could try again?” She tilts her head. “Being friends?”

She exhales, the words piercing her already-cracked armor.

Can she do that again? Be friends with him while also continuing her experiment?

I don’t fuck my friends.

A chill sweeps through her at the crass memory, but she shoves it aside, finally admitting to herself how much she’s missed him, how vulnerable she can be with him after growing up feeling isolated. And aside from how he makes her body sing, how he knows which spot on her neck makes her moan, how he listens to her wants and needs and pulls pleasure from her veins, his teachings have made her more confident, provided her with a better understanding of how good sex can feel with the right partner.

Yet fear still holds her back. Fear of allowing him back into her life just so he can break her heart again.

She casts him a tentative smile. “Sure, Quinn. We can try.”

He grins, breathtaking and genuine, the smile she’s always loved the most. Despite her trepidation, it shoots a deep, comforting warmth through her like she’s swallowed the sun.