One of Shannon’s rules was never to go down on a guy because it gives them all the power and they never reciprocate, which Gia reluctantly confirmed was true, though she definitely did it all the time anyway. Kiki had just snorted, and I’d pretended I was taking notes, as usual, though I’d been thinking, Good—I wouldn’t want him to. Way too many guys talk about how gross it is and I don’t ever want Chase to look at me that way.

Shannon’s proving to be wrong; reciprocating clearly isn’t an issue for Chase, not with the way he’s eyeing me. And it’s also clear he isn’t gonna find it—or me—gross. But … I still don’t want him to do it. It’s never been part of my Chase fantasy.

And, okay, maybe I’m not ready to have my memory of the one time someone did go down on me replaced, especially since it’s clear that’s never happening with Jasmine again.

Maybe.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that in the future,” I say, giving him a quick kiss. “How about we go downstairs before those guys come back and harass us again? Besides, you should spend some time at your own party.”

He looks disappointed for a moment, but only that. “True—we’ve always got Homecoming. I can get a room, if you want.”

From zero expectations to a room at Homecoming in the space of one blow job. Noted.

My thoughts must show on my face because he quickly adds, “No pressure.”

“I’ll think about it,” I promise as he retrieves our clothes from the floor and tosses me my shirt. And I’m sure that I will, nonstop.

“Cool.”

We get dressed and cleaned up, and he makes a little teasing “aw” of disappointment as I scrub off the last of the paint in the Ferrises’ enormous en suite bathroom. “You ready?” I ask as soon as I’ve reapplied lip gloss, a futile attempt to make myself look put together despite my clothes having the permanently rumpled look of someone who’s just rolled around with her new boyfriend.

“Ready.” He holds out a hand and I take it, amazed at how quickly and comfortably we’ve slipped into these roles, and then he opens the door.