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This time, when her mouth takes mine, her finger slowly enters me too, as gentle as anything she’s ever done. But my body’s had enough gentle, as much as I appreciate the gesture. I arch into her hand, and my first thought is, More. Or maybe I actually say it aloud, because the next thing I know, a second finger has joined the first, and oh God this is what I’ve been missing, what everyone has been talking about while I haven’t had a fucking clue, while I’ve been worrying that I’m some sort of defect of nature around Ally and Liam, or Josh and…whoever that day’s prize is.

This. This. This.

I slip a hand into the wave of hair cascading over her face and hold tight, both to press her mouth closer to mine and to steady myself as she quickens her pace and my body rocks to match it. The buildup inside me is so strange and intense that I almost wonder if something’s wrong, and then, just as quickly, it becomes clear this is all going somewhere very, very right.

And then I can no longer share my breath, and I pull back and cry out as waves of bliss radiate out from every limb, my body near-vibrating as they crawl out of my fingertips, my toes.

It takes me an hour or maybe a minute to open my eyes again, and when I do, I see her looking down at me, biting her lip as she tries to keep from smiling. And just like that, insecurity slowly creeps in to replace the euphoria of only seconds before.

“Oh God, what?”

She shakes her head, kisses me hard, then collapses next to me. “That,” she says, dropping another kiss onto my bare shoulder, “was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” She brings my hand to her mouth and bites a knuckle. “Oh.”

I can’t stop smiling like an idiot as I watch her intertwine our fingers. “That was… Good Lord. Is it always like that?”

She laughs. “Not always.” Her lips press against my shoulder, and my eyelids flutter shut. When she speaks again, her voice is low and breath is warm against my ear. “Sometimes I use my mouth.”

Dying. I am dying right now. And it’s the most perfect death. “You know, you’re gonna have to teach me some things,” I warn her, my face flushing with heat. “How to do them, I mean.”

Her lips curve into a smile against my neck. “Cannot fucking wait, Park.” She kisses me again and adds, “I’m gonna go wash up. I’ll be right back.”

I wait until I feel her slip out of bed and then watch her disappear into the bathroom through my haze as I pull the sheet up and over my body. This, I think, watching her retreating back, is what happiness feels like. The door closes behind her, and I look around the room, surprised to register that it seems a little more like home now that something monumental has happened in it. This is what being excited to grow up feels like.

And as much as I love acting and my parents, I don’t think I want a life that doesn’t allow for the potential to feel the way I do now. And I don’t know how long I could love a career that wouldn’t support me being… me.

Besides, what I want — what I’ve always wanted — is to be a role model, to show kids that not fitting into the industry standard doesn’t mean there isn’t a place for you. That doesn’t have to stop with race. It shouldn’t. God, it seemed so important when Zander and I were talking about setting good examples, but I don’t want to be the kind of example that tells kids how to conduct their sex lives. I wanna be the kind that conveys that who they are is okay. Great, even. That where you come from and who you love should never be the kinds of things that hold you back.

I wonder what the hell kind of ceremonial ring they make for that.

I’m shaking a little with the force of all this by the time Bri emerges from the bathroom, but when she tips her head and asks what’s wrong, I tell her I’m just a little chilly. Lord knows I’ve already started enough promises to her I haven’t kept.

But I know what I have to do. And as she slips off her jeans, climbs into bed, and curls around me, holding me close to warm me up, I let go of the fear, embrace the only certainty I have, and let myself fall completely.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Josh

I toss back my second bottle of beer as I watch out the front window of the house, waiting for headlights to glare against the glass. When I finally see Liam’s Range Rover pull up, I chug the rest of it, put it down on the sill, and head outside.

“You made it,” I declare, greeting my guests with open arms.

Liam and K-drama slam their doors behind them and walk up. “We were pretty officially summoned,” Liam says wryly. “What’s the big occasion?”

I don’t answer, ushering them inside instead, knowing it’ll drive them both nuts.

“Ooookay,” Vanessa says slowly, gesturing toward the dining table. “Is that champagne? What’s going on here, Josh?”

“Are we celebrating something?” Liam asks, bracing himself on one of the dining chairs. “Are those In-N-Out burgers and fries?”

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