Erin McCarthy - Believe

“No.” Slowly, I finished the rotation and climbed onto his lap where I gyrated, making sure he got plenty of cleavage in his face. But I wasn’t quite as confident in that position that I wouldn’t fall on the floor, so instead I shoved him onto his back to gain better leverage.

“I think I’m about to become a man,” he murmured.

That made me smile as I spread my hips and kissed my way down his chest, flicking my tongue over his nipples. He was plenty of man long before he met me. Sitting back up, I slowly undid my bra and peeled it off, tossing it to the side. I had him pinned as I straddled him, and I pushed my hair back again, enjoying the feel of power over him. His nostrils were flaring and his eyes were heavy with lust.

My original thought had been to go down on him but given the position I was in and how inconsequential the thong was, I decided to go with what was right for the moment. Shifting the scrap of fabric to the side and rising up a little, I realigned our bodies so that I sank down onto him, clamping his thighs with mine, free hand gripping his chest. Phoenix gave a low moan, his eyes rolling back. I felt a moment of pure feminine satisfaction that I had done that.

As I started to move, I asked, “Is the kind of lap dance you had in mind?”

“Even better.” Phoenix held onto my hips and pumped up into me. “And all I have to say is happy fucking birthday to me.”

I would have laughed except I was too busy having an orgasm.

Maybe his party had been a success after all.

“Girls’ Night!” Kylie shouted as she ran up the stairs a week later, shaking a bottle of vodka in the air. “Let’s go, bitches!”

She was wearing short shorts and wedges and a stretchy top that stopped just below her bra. Jessica was similarly dressed, though she wasn’t showing as much skin. Rory was sitting on the couch in a floral dress with her leg crossed, foot bouncing up and down. I was wearing a sundress and cowboy boots because that felt right, comfortable to me. Going out to a club was a huge step for me. I had no intention of drinking, no desire to, nor did I want to sex it up. I just wanted to go and dance and have fun with my friends.

“Who is in for a shot before we go?” She had Dixie cups in her other hand, her gold bracelets rattling as she spread the cups on the coffee table. “Robin, I didn’t bring a cup for you because I didn’t think you’d want one.”

“I don’t. Thanks.”

“Don’t worry, I already did your shot.” She winked at me.

I couldn’t help but laugh. That was so Kylie. “But you know what, I’m going to do a shot of Diet Coke with you guys.” I went down the hall to the bathroom and got another cup and poured some of my soft drink into it as Kylie poured out the shots. I didn’t want to be totally left out. It was stupid, like why did it matter? But I still wanted to have that camaraderie, that connection.

So I raised my cup along with theirs and drank it like it was alcohol. It certainly burned a lot less going down. And I didn’t have that same reckless, fist-pumping, let’s-get-fucked-up feeling surging through me.

We all set our cups back down.

“Whose phone is blowing up?” Jessica bent over and glanced at the screen.

I realized it was my phone. “Oh, it’s probably Phoenix. He’s getting off work right now.”

“It’s Nathan,” Jessica said with a puzzled laugh. “Why is Nathan texting you?”

And just like that my face went hot and my entire world came shattering down around me.

“What?” I asked, with a weird little laugh that didn’t sound normal. I knew it didn’t sound normal. Neither was my grab for my phone. “Why would Nathan text me?”

But the phone was already in Jessica’s hand and Kylie took it from her, giving a confused laugh. “Did he text you by accident? God, are those guys trashed already? It’s not even ten yet!”

My heart was racing and hot bile rose in my mouth. “Kylie. Let me have my phone,” I said, desperate for her not to read whatever Nathan would have written. It couldn’t be good. It wouldn’t do anything but hurt her.

Now Rory was leaning forward on the couch, looking confused, and Kylie was narrowing her eyes at me. “Why?”

“Let me have the phone,” Jessica said, her voice urgent.

She knew. I could tell that she knew. Or at least suspected that it would be bad. Very, very bad.

“No.” Kylie turned her back on us and read the text out loud, “‘When are you going to break up with that loser?’ What the fuck does that mean? Why would he care if you’re dating Phoenix?”

“Oh!” I said, like I had just realized something. “It must be my cousin Nathan. My family isn’t super thrilled with me dating Phoenix.” Lie. Total lie.

“You have a cousin named Nathan?” Rory asked.

“Yes.” No.

“I didn’t realize that your family was upset about Phoenix,” Jessica said. “Dude, I can so relate.”

My family didn’t even know Phoenix had been to prison. They just knew he was a tattoo artist, nothing more. I was giving it another month or two before I brought him to Sunday dinner.

But none of that mattered because Kylie knew I was lying.

She turned around and stared at me, shock on her face, her thumb still on the screen where she had clearly been scrolling back through the texts.

It had been careless to not delete them. But maybe at the same time, I wanted proof that Nathan had been contacting me and I never answered, or told him to stop. Especially in the weeks after it had happened. Or maybe I wanted her to know that he wasn’t a nice guy at all, if this ever came out.

But whatever the reason, now those awful texts were the very thing that made my terrible secret no longer a secret.

“Kylie,” I whispered, shaking my head, not knowing what to say, what to do. There was a buzzing sound in my ears, and the tears were already there, blurring my vision, blurring the horrible sight of her staring at me looking like I had stabbed her repeatedly.

“You fucked my boyfriend?” she demanded. “You fucked my boyfriend? How could you do that, Robin?”

“What?” Rory gasped. “She wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that.” She looked to me for confirmation, but I couldn’t deny it. “Oh no,” she said weakly.

Kylie made a sound of disgust and looked at the phone again. “May 31. Text from Nathan reads, “Last night was effing amazing. Let’s do that again.” June 3. Text from Nathan. “Is it weird that I think your pussy tastes better than chocolate?”

Oh, God. I shook my head, stomach churning. “Stop. Don’t read any more of those.” I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was going to faint.

“Don’t?” Her finger came up, and she was crying now, heaving sobs. “Fuck you! How could you do that to me? I thought we were best friends. Oh, my God . . .” She dissolved into tears.

I was crying, too. “I didn’t mean to! I don’t even remember it, Kylie, I swear to you. I totally blacked out and when I realized . . . God, I was just sick. You have to believe it, I would never, ever hurt you.”

“Well, you have!” she shrieked. “Drunk is no excuse. None.” Then suddenly she was texting on my phone, crying and tapping and sniffling.

Oh, shit. “Kylie, don’t . . .” That was so not a good idea. She was texting Nathan on my phone. I reached for it in a panic.

But she just put her hand out and glared at me. “Don’t even, Robin, I am so serious right now. I will cut you.” Her voice was venomous.

“Just give me the phone,” I pleaded, reaching for it again.

But Kylie shoved me, and I stumbled.

“Okay, let’s just calm down,” Rory said, eyes wide as she came around the coffee table. “Kylie, maybe we should go outside and talk about this.”