Page 52 of The Money Shot
I froze.
“Oh my God, Trevor Jenkins was your first?” Jack barked out a laugh, his head tipping back. “I knew he gave off gay vibes!”
“Shut up,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands.
“No, no, keep going. This is gold,” Jack insisted, his grin wide enough to light up the room.
I let out a dramatic sigh and pushed my hair out of my face. “Alright. So, we’re in his dorm, and things are heating up. Kissing, shirts coming off, the whole shebang. And I’m thinking, this is it. My big gay debut.”
“And?” Jack prompted, his tone practically dripping with glee.
“And… it was a disaster.” I threw my hands up. “He got a leg cramp five minutes in. Then his roommate walked in—didn’t even knock! Just stood there, holding a pizza, staring at us like we were a live episode of Friends. And Trevor panicked, yanked the blanket over us, and accidentally elbowed me in the face.”
Jack was practically wheezing, tears in his eyes.
“It gets worse,” I continued, unable to stop now that I was on a roll. “His roommate—the pizza guy—starts laughing, which makes Trevor start laughing, and I’m just sitting there, clutching my nose, bleeding, thinking, This is what I waited 19 years for?”
Jack clutched his stomach, his laughter spilling out in loud, unfiltered waves.
“I never saw him again,” I finished with a huff. “Transferred out of Psych 101 the next day and I’ve avoided folk music ever since.”
Jack wiped his eyes, still chuckling. “I can’t believe Trevor Jenkins was your first. That guy tried to sell me essential oils at the Kappa Delta Xi holiday party last year.”
I groaned and buried my face in his chest. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope. Lemon balm and peppermint. Said they’d open my chakras, whatever that means.”
I let out a muffled laugh against his skin. “Of course he did.”
For a moment, we just lay there, his arm warm and solid around me, both of us catching our breath. It wasn’t exactly what I’d expected when I asked him to get back in bed, but it felt right.
“Remember The Upstairs Lounge?” I asked. “The gay bar off campus?”
Jack shook his head. “Can’t say that I do.”
“Really?” I sat up a little, propping myself on my elbow. “You never went there? Not even once?”
Jack shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Not really my scene. I think I had a paper due every time someone mentioned it.”
“Huh,” I said, frowning. “I could’ve sworn we went together once. You, me, maybe Bradley? No?”
Jack gave me a you’re-making-this-up look and shook his head again.
“Oh!” I said, a light bulb flickering on in my brain. “That’s right—it was Bradley who took me.”
At the mention of Bradley’s name, Jack’s brow furrowed just slightly. It wasn’t much, but I’d known him long enough to recognize the shift. I should’ve stopped there, changed the subject. But no, I had to keep going.
“So…” I said, grinning a little nervously. “This one time, Bradley and I got really drunk at The Upstairs Lounge. I mean, like, fall over-your-own-shoes drunk.”
Jack narrowed his eyes at me, not saying a word, and I felt my cheeks burn.
“What?” I asked, laughing a little too hard. “You’re looking at me like I just admitted to robbing a bank.”
Jack crossed his arms over his chest, still silent, and that’s when I knew I was in trouble. But I couldn’t stop myself—I was already in the deep end, might as well keep swimming.
“So, anyway,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “We ended up back at Bradley’s room that night.”
Jack’s eyes widened slightly, and he sat up straighter. “Wait a second. What?”