Page 106 of End Game
In reality, eternity is about four minutes, and then she sighs and steps back. I release her and take a half-step backwards myself.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I broach hesitantly.
“What’s the point?” she says bitterly.
“Dee…”
“We had sex,” she says flatly. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“Except clearly it is.”
“It’s whatever,” she says, and I flinch at the reminder that to her, it was nothing. “It’s not going to change us. Right?”
“Right,” I lie. “It was…”
Because it’s already changed me.
Amazing. Earth-shattering. Life-changing. Spectacular.
“It was a mistake,” she finally says. “A lapse in judgment.”
“Is that what it was?”
“I was hurt. I thought it would help me manage the pain.”
“And did it?”
She considers. “It felt good.”
“Yeah, it did,” I agree quietly.
“But it can’t happen again.”
“Okay.”
“It was one time,” she says.
“Okay.”
“And we won’t talk about it anymore.”
“Okay.”
“Can I stay the night?” she asks.
“Okay.” I’d do anything she asks. This? It’s not a hardship, not in the slightest.
Chapter 33
Diana
Barrett is in my bed. Or rather, I’m in his bed.
How did this happen again?
Except we were both worn out last night. Neither of us wanted to discuss the things we very much need to discuss. Okay, so maybe he wanted to talk. I wasn’t ready. I’m still not ready. I still don’t know how I feel. I had sex with my best friend, and it… wasn’t bad. It was great. It was fucking spectacular. It was exactly what I needed.
But we crossed that invisible line.
