And Then There Was Victor

Chapter 11

I was bursting at the seams and I could not control myself. Desperation led me to where it led me because I needed to talk to SOMEONE about it and I found Isla not too impressed and not really keen on asking questions and getting details. I needed to gush with someone. A guy had wanted me, a guy had been decent with me, he'd been sexy and considerate and he'd had sex with me. With me. A twenty-six-year-old guy – no – a man! He'd been sexy and self-assured, and just... magical. I had called Yara but she had a new boyfriend and promised we would talk when she got home in ten days. Mercy was in the middle of pledging and couldn't chat and Rosalind had been more and more distant. All the phone calls had been a failure.

Hence why I now watched Victor as he stuffed his face with his second Whopper and considered telling him. I couldn't tell him, he'd make fun of me, he'd tell Jon. Well, no he wouldn't, he wouldn't say anything to anyone but he would know I'd had sex. So what if he knew I had sex? He had plenty of sex and he didn't walk around ashamed of it.

"What is it?" He was staring right at me. "What's wrong?"

"Why do you think something is wrong?"

"You're staring at me and haven't touched your food," he pointed to my untouched salad and burger. I looked down and then back up at him.

"Can I trust you to be mature about something?"

He raised a brow and set down his food. His face was open and lacking judgment. So I took a deep breath.

"You've slept with a lot of girls," I said and he cocked his head, a smile playing on his face. To his credit, he waited for me to continue. "What are... what are the expectations after, you know, it happens?"

He raised a brow, one finely shaped brown brow, his lips were still quirking. "Are you planning on sleeping with anyone?"

I looked down at my salad and desperately wanted fries. "I kinda already did."

He was silent so I looked back at him and he was quietly studying me. "That Adrian kid?"

"No!" I blushed and took a long drink from my Sprite.

His brows furrowed. "Then who?"

"Can we focus on my question?"

"Tell me who. If this is what our friendship is like now, I'd like to know who you had sex with," he said.

"Why?"

He shrugged but his jaw was tight. "It could affect the answer."

I let out a frustrated breath. "You don't know him, he's no one anyone knows."

"Try me," he leaned back, his shirt rode up a bit to reveal hairs on his taunt stomach. It reminded me of Case's stomach and how nice it had felt against my belly.

"I met him at Club Test," I said.

A slow smile formed on his stupidly handsome face. "You slept with a gay guy? Jesus, Becka!"

"He's not gay! He's a bartender there, he's roommates with my friend, and he's twenty-six." I smiled smugly at his shocked expression.

He didn't say anything just looked at me, almost as if he was attempting to discern if I was lying. "Then he's an asshole."

My mouth flew open. "What? He's not!"

"He is. You're eighteen, he's twenty-six, he took advantage of you."

I felt hot all over and my fists clenched and unclenched.

"You were probably drunk, vulnerable," he continued. "He wanted a nut, you were it."