I roll over again, punching the crap out of the pillow, before slamming my head down on it. I groan, because I’ve been lying on the floor for over an hour and I’m still not asleep. Through Lily’s snores, I can just make out the sound of Adam’s steady breathing. It’s heavier than usual, so I’m pretty sure he’s asleep, too.

So why the hell aren’t I asleep?

I reach for my phone and wince, first when I see the time and second when I see new messages from Mom. I’ve been putting off speaking with her all day, but if I don’t call her soon, she’ll do something silly, like call the police.

Aside from the fact that it’s after midnight, my other big reason for not calling her is how she overreacts to everything. I’m embarrassed enough about all of this without her making it an even bigger deal.

Me: Sorry. I’m out of range. We’re fine and on our way home.

Mom: What time does your flight get in? I’ll pick you up.

Me: We decided to drive.

Mom: Drive? And you call this fine? You hate road trips. You’re not in trouble, are you?

Me: I’m fine, I promise.

Mom: Okay. Call me if you need me?

I text a reply and then lie back down again. I glance over at the bed and frown. Maybe I was too hasty in offering to sleep on the floor, because if I’d stayed, I would be asleep by now.

Asleep with Adam.

A rush of emotion hits me. It comes out of nowhere, taking me by surprise. I’ve seen a different side to him a few times today, which makes me think that maybe he has changed. But then he says something and I’m right back to high school.

It’s so hard to push past that and see him as anything other than the boy who tormented me. I know it was a long time ago, but he was such a big, central part of my life for years. First as someone I loved and then someone I hated. How am I supposed to just forget that it ever happened?

My thoughts are interrupted by Adam’s phone, as it vibrates softly in the silence. I throw the pillow over my face to smother my laughter. This late, it’s got to be another reply to my ad. The texts and calls are coming in so often, I’m surprised he hasn’t turned his phone off. He curses under his breath as he glances at it. I roll onto my side and rest my head against my hand. I smile, making out his smirk against the soft glow of his phone.

“You’re awake,” I say.

“I am awake,” he confirms. “Thanks in part to Dwayne, from New Jersey. You want to hear what Dwayne has to say?”

“Yes,” I say, laughing.

I get on my knees and crawl over to the bed, resting on the edge, so I’m close enough to listen. He puts his phone on speaker, low enough not to wake the Lily and Darcy. If anything is going to wake them, it will be me laughing.

“Hey. I’m Dwayne. AKA: Your final destination.” Pause. “Uh, you know… in your search for Mr. Right.” Longer pause. “Which is me. Uh, Dwayne?” Nervous laugh.

I grab hold of my stomach, laughing so hard I can’t breathe.

“Shhh, be quiet,” he says, chuckling. “I don’t think I’ll show you the photo he sent me. You’ll wake up the whole town.”

“Well, now I have to see it.”

I squint at the screen when he faces it my way. My eyes widen as I laugh at the photo of a man wearing a Darth Vader mask, grasping his very large penis. It’s nearly as big as the light saber he’s holding in his other hand, and just as stiff.

I shrug, like it’s no big deal, even though I’m disturbed by the size.

“Eh. I’ve seen bigger.”

Adam nods. “My reaction too.”

I giggle, and lean forward, stretching out my back.

“You could always get back up here.” He smiles at me. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

I’m not sure I believe he’s capable of behaving himself, but I reluctantly climb back up, and wriggle under the covers. I snuggle into the pillow, already a thousand times more comfortable.

“I think we need a change of subject,” he suggests.

“Okay,” I say.

Probably a good idea.

“So … caterpillars, huh?”

I cringe. “Why is everyone so shocked by that?” I shudder. “They’re such evil looking little creatures.”

“Are you kidding me?” His soft chuckles cut through the darkness, making me shiver. “Evil? They’re the most non-threatening creature—”

“They’re creepy,” I say firmly. “And ugly.”

“But butterflies,” he says, as if nothing more needs to be said.

“Don’t get me started on butterflies,” I grumble. “They’re worse. I bet you’re not afraid of anything, huh?” I say, when his response is to laugh.

“I can’t help it if I’m tough.”

“So, nothing scares you at all?” I shake my head, not believing it. “Everyone has fears. Not admitting to them might be one of yours.”

“Thanks, Doctor Katie. How much do I owe you for tonight’s session?”

I smile into the darkness.

“First session is free.”

I lie there in the silence as one topic dies down and we search for another. I check my phone for the time. My eyes widen. How the hell did it get to three in the morning? We’ve been talking for nearly three hours. My eyes are getting heavy, but I’m enjoying it too much to end it just yet.

“So …”

I jump at the sound of his voice, a shiver racing through me.

“Were you really saving your virginity for me?”

I literally die. I grab the pillow from under my head and attempt to smother myself—or at the very least, trying to block the sound of his soft laughter out.

“The mouse with the sweater?” he continues in a low, husky voice. “It’s now the third cutest thing in the world.”

“Good night, Adam,” I retort, my voice frosty.

“You know, I was only half joking when I said I could make your fantasies a reality. It’s still an option—”

“I’m sorry, but that ship sailed a long time ago.”

I curse Darcy for making it sound like I’m still a virgin.

“Well, fuck.” He sighs. “There’s nothing worse than missing a flight you really wanted to be on, because you only found out about it after it’d already left.”

My heart races.

Is he saying …

I shake my head. He’s just being stupid. But the flying analogy gets me thinking …

“Tell me again; why didn’t we fly back?”

“I told you. I have to escort—”

“Us home, I know,” I say, rolling my eyes. “That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t get on a plane with us?”

“Because we’re driving.”

I frown at the sudden roughness of his voice and stare into the darkness.

And then it hits me.

“You’re scared of flying, aren’t you?” I accuse him.

“What?” he scoffs with a little too much enthusiasm. “No, of course not.”

“Yes, you are,” I say. I laugh, because this is perfect. “Well, how about that. Big tough Adam Jenkins can’t get on a little tiny plane,” I tease, in my cutest baby voice.

I smile at the silent reception my dig receives.

“What’s wrong?” I ask lightly. “Can’t you handle it when someone makes fun of you?”

“Is this making you feel better?” he asks. “Because if it is, then by all means, continue. I guess I just never thought of you as the type of person who’d get off on exposing someone else’s weakness.”

My smile disappears, because he just sucked all the fun out of that in one sentence. I’m not sure if he’s really hurt or if he’s just messing with me, but now I feel like a dick.

“I’m sorry,” I say, genuinely feeling bad. “So, what scares you about it? Did you have a bad experience or something?”

“No. There’s no reason, other than the fact that it combines three things I hates; small spaces, crowds, and burning to death in a sea of crushed metal.”

“You know driving a car is more dangerous than flying,” I point out.

“Maybe, but I have control in a car,” he argues.

“Of your car, maybe, but you don’t control other drivers,” I say. “You don’t know that the next person you pass isn’t going to swerve into you and kill you.”

“No, I don’t.” He chuckles. “The point you’re missing is that doesn’t matter if it’s rational or not …” He pauses. “I just I can’t do it.”

“When was the last time you flew?”

He pauses. “Never.”

“Never?” I repeat, shocked.

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I guess you could call me a virgin.”

“You’re an asshole,” I mutter.

He starts laughing so hard he rolls over, so he can bury his face into his pillow. I shake my head, wishing I wasn’t finding it as funny as I am.

“Come on, Katie. I can tell you’re trying not to laugh,” he teases. “You felt sorry for me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t talk to me. I’m asleep,” I snap.

I roll over, trying to drown out the sound of his laughter, wishing he would just stop. I could kiss him. That would shut him up pretty fast. I smile.

Too bad I’ll never have the courage to do something like that.

It’s five in the morning and I’m still awake. I’m bordering on delirium, because I’m so tired, but I just can’t get to sleep. I’ve tried listening to music, clearing my mind, counting backward … nothing is working.

There’s still one thing I haven’t tried …

I hold my breath, listening to the sound of his breathing as I creep my hand under the blankets and down over my stomach. I freeze when he stirs, but he doesn’t wake up. My heart pounds as I focus on the sound of his breathing and nothing else.

My body tenses as a part my legs, just enough to slide a finger along my entrance. I hold my breath, the air catching my throat, then I quickly exhale as I slide a finger inside myself. I close my eyes and concentrate as I massage my clit, trying so hard not to make a sound.

What would it feel like to kiss him?

I sigh, imagining his lips brushing over mine, while I rake my hands over that thick, uneven stubble. I swallow, my pussy aching as I tease myself, imagining my fingers sliding over his muscular chest.

I work myself faster and harder as my body reacts. The soft lapping of my finger sounds a thousand times louder than it really is. I gasp as my finger slides deeper inside me. I want to scream, but I can’t, so I force the sound back down my throat and ride the last of my climax out in total silence, all while still imagining his hands on me. It’s torture and bliss at the same time.

Holy fuck.

I stare at the ceiling, unable to do anything other than lie there, listening to my heart pounding in my chest. I kick off the blankets, my skin all hot and sweaty. Then I smile and swallow a giggle. That was incredible. I’ve never experienced a rush quite like that before.

Snuggling into my pillow, I sigh. I’m so close to asleep …

And then I hear that familiar chuckle.

Fuck.

I hold my breath, not trusting myself to do anything other than lie there and panic. I slowly relax when he doesn’t react. He’s asleep. It’s fine. I imagined it. I breathe out and then close my eyes. Just as I finally feel like I’m going to fall asleep, his sleepy voice cuts through the silence. I lie there, holding my breath, my eyes wide open.

“Feels good to be naughty, doesn’t it, Katie?”

His sleepy voice cuts through the silence. I don’t answer, because I can’t.

“Next time you do that? I’ll be participating.”