I take a seat at her vanity. It's so her. Pretty and white and clean. "You drain every drop he has. Even his energy."
"Gross."
"What if he said it?"
"You know, Oliver accused me of making a Holden joke yesterday."
"Did you?" I ask.
She pushes herself up on her elbows. "Kinda."
"He's funny."
She raises a brow since when?
"Hey! Who told you to go after him?"
"Yeah."
"Even when you protested that he didn't see you that way. Even when you said it could never be anything serious. Even when you said Oliver would kill him."
"Oliver barely talks to him."
Not. Going. There. "He'll get over it." I try to ignore the matter completely. "Who encouraged you?"
"It was you."
"So don't give me that you don't approve look. I approve."
"Do you?" She shoots me exactly that look.
"Okay, sure, he's a bit of a fuckboy—"
"Hey."
I laugh. "Okay, he was a bit of a fuckboy. I admit it. I didn't have faith in him. I pushed you for you, Daisy. Because I wanted you to seize the cock."
"My new tattoo."
"Right here." I motion to her pelvis.
"More visible." She holds out her arm.
"I will if you will."
"Usually, I'd call that bluff. But right now." Her eyes go to my new tattoo. "I can't believe you did that."
"Isn't it amazing?"
"It is." She studies the lines. "And you let Oliver… I thought you'd ask someone else."
Right. That would be smart. Someone who isn't emotionally involved. But she doesn't know how emotionally involved we are.
It's not completely and totally obvious.
I think.
I hope.
"Do you like him?" she asks.
"What?" I swallow hard.
"Holden."
My shoulders fall with relief. "He treats you well. I like that."
"You don't?" She sits up straight. "Still?"
"Daisy, I like him. I don't want to be his best friend, but I like hanging out with the two of you. Well… not alone. You're a little…" I make a kiss-kiss sound.
She blushes. "I know. I'm terrible. I just… I haven't seen him in forever. And he's so cute. And his lips are so soft. And he tastes like my favorite tea."
"You don't have to justify yourself. I'd do the same."
"Yeah? Were you and Sean ever that… insatiable?"
"At first." I unzip my makeup bag. Sure, we have two hours. But I need a distraction. Or I might confess everything. I'm bursting at the seams. I want to tell someone. No, I want to tell her.
She's my best friend.
I want to tell her everything.
I hate that I haven't been able to tell her everything. It's so much more obvious with her right here.
But I can't. Not yet. So I stay on Sean. "He was always a dick. But it was only to other people at first. And it made me feel kind of special. That he was only nice to me."
She nods with understanding.
"And, god, he made me feel like, well, a minx. He always wanted to touch me, kiss me, take off my clothes." I didn't mind that it was always what he wanted, when he wanted it, on his terms. Not at first. "After a while, it was… a little pushy. But at first, I liked that he'd pull me aside at a friend's house and roll my dress to my waist."
"Yes, I remember that party."
This time, I blush. "Oh god."
"At least it wasn't the first time I saw your boobs."
"Are you still shy about that?" I ask.
She motions a little. "Not all of us have spent our lifetime on the swim team."
True.
"But now that I have a roomie who, uh… is not at all shy." Her nose scrunches. "I had to talk to her about overnight guests."
"Really?"
"Yeah. She would start things when she thought I was asleep."
"But you weren't?"
"Or it would wake me up! She's loud."
I can't help but laugh.
"Not funny!"
"Kinda funny."
"Where's the karma? I never subjected anyone to making out my entire life and—"
"Now you do," I say.
"Okay. Now I do." She laughs. Motions to the lipstick on the desk. "Do you need help?"
"I've got it."
"Do you need makeup?"
"Not need makeup?"
"I'm pretty sure your artist never wore makeup."
True. But I can still look amazing. "Do you?"
"Okay." She stands. Fights a yawn. "God, I am tired."
"More tea first?"
"I don't think it's working. My last cup made me more tired."
"Aww, I'm the one who wore you out. Will Holden get jealous?"
"Probably." She takes two steps to the vanity. Pulls her desk chair over. Sits. "Make me beautiful."
"You're already gorgeous and you know it."
"Make me…"
"You want actual schoolgirl or schoolgirl in a porno?" I ask.
She laughs. "Not that."
"Holden would like it."
"Maybe."
I raise a brow.
She blushes. "I think he prefers me adorable."
"Good for both of you."
"Ollie said I should throw this out. Pick up something against type. A doctor. Or a cop. Or something."
My chest flushes. "A cop?"
"Yeah. He has an extra. But I think it's used." Her face scrunches. "There isn't enough laundry in the world."
I laugh like I'm equally disgusted by the thought of Oliver's used cop outfit. And not like I'm the one who wore it. And like I want to wear it again. And actually finish that particular roleplay.
"I never thought… oh my god, no. I can't go there."
Good. "Close your eyes."
She does.
I brush shadow over her lids.
"I just… never thought he'd want the, uh, other party to be the one punishing him," she says.
My head fills with mental images of Oliver handcuffed to his bed. Watching as I ride him.
My cheeks flush.
Thankfully, her eyes are closed.
"Speaking from experience?" I ask. "Do Flynns need to stay in control?"
"Oh my God, my dad too. Gross."
"I meant you."
"Oh. No. I like when he's in control."
"Go on." I move to the highlight color.
"I've said enough."
"He seems open-minded."
"Dad? Or Ollie? Never mind. I don't want to know." She makes that ugh, gross sound. It's normal. The same one she would have made six months ago.
Before I was fucking her brother.
She doesn't know.
Or suspect.
Does she?
"Holden?" That's totally what I meant the entire time. Totally.
"Would he want me to do some cop/criminal roleplay?"