One Good Thing Read Free Page A

spirit.”
    As I watched Drew devour his sandwich with a ravenousness that always amazed me, my mind reached back to Darth Vader, Hot Lips, and my Horrible Thong Experience, as I was starting to call it. I thought about telling Drew. It was something we could laugh over.
    But I hesitated. And then the moment was gone and I couldn’t bring it back.
    “Speaking of Halloween,” he said. “Do you want to watch some old horror movies on our date?”
    “Sure. What should I pick up?”
    And then, as Drew warmed to the subject, the conversation flowed more easily and nothing was left unsaid, and it felt like it had at the beginning. Like it had months ago, when we were just two people discovering each other and the whole world was in front of us.
    *
    The red thong rested atop all my other underwear in the drawer. I snatched my hand back as though it had been burned when my fingers grazed the fabric.
    I’d bought it for Drew, but now it was tainted by Darth Shepherd and Hot Lips.
    “I’m not wearing you,” I said, pulling out a more serviceable pair of black bikini bottoms instead. After a second of indecision, I pushed the thong to the bottom of the drawer, where I couldn’t see it.
    After I shrugged into jeans and a T-shirt (I didn’t want to make it look like I was trying too hard), I brushed on some mascara, slicked my lips with gloss, and waited. I grabbed a collection of poetry and tried to distract myself from the minute hand on the clock steadily ticking past the time we’d set. My gaze kept fluttering in that direction anyway—it was one of those black-and-white cat clocks with the bulbous eyes and swishing tail. Alyssa had picked it out. The thing was sort of creepy, but I supposed I should have been thankful she hadn’t decorated the whole apartment with a cat theme.
    Twenty minutes after Drew was supposed to arrive, the intercom beeped and I stood to answer it.
    A minute later, he stepped into the apartment with wind-tousled hair, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the nearest chair. I noticed Princess’s shadow slinking along the wall to investigate and then slinking away again when she realized it was just Drew.
    “Hi,” I said, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him. His mouth was cold and dry.
    “Hi. Sorry I’m late. I wanted to run home and change.”
    I stepped back from him, my hands sliding from his shoulders. “It’s fine.”
    “What did you want to order?”
    I lifted the takeout menu from the kitchen counter and handed it over. “Does Chinese sound good?”
    “Sure.” He took his phone out and glanced at the menu. “Forty-five minutes,” he said once he’d placed the order.
    “Oh, I didn’t think it would be that long,” I said. I was pretty hungry.
    He grinned, his eyebrows lifting suggestively. “What should we do?”
    “What do you want to do?” A nervous fluttering began in my stomach that had nothing to do with emptiness.
    “Do you even have to ask?” he said, moving toward me. “It’s been too long.” He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine.
    I felt a slow stirring of desire. After three weeks with only a few kisses here and there, having sex on the couch sounded way more appealing than it usually did. My hands fisted in his shirt as we stumbled toward the sofa blindly. His fingers trailed across my stomach, and I had to stifle laughter—they were still cold from being outside.
    He unbuttoned my pants and together we shimmied them off; more clothes gathered on the floor beside us.
    His mouth latched onto my nipple and sucked as I ran my hands through his dark hair. Something quickened inside me and my breathing came in little gasps. He covered me with his long, lean body, pushing my legs farther apart to accommodate him. And then I felt a dull pressure.
    He pushed into me.
    I wasn’t ready. When Drew said it had been too long, that worked both ways. Though I was aroused, I wasn’t wet enough, and his invasion (because that’s exactly what it