7
INDI
Whoa. Wow.
I couldn’t believe I just had s*x with Ford Ledger. Subject of all my teen fantasies then later—after the incident—all my hurt, anger and resentment.
The s*x had been… explosive. Incredible. Satisfying times a gazillion. Clearly, that was how s*x was supposed to be. It had been so different from my previous repressed attempts that they were now laughable.
He eased out of me and went to dispose of the condom and came back with a hand towel, wiping his beard, then his hands. As I absorbed what just happened—remembering the reason why he needed to wipe his face—uncertainty and a touch of shame crept back in. What would Buck have said about this? About me throwing myself at his best friend… again?
And what did it mean to Ford? Probably nothing.
Oh, God.
I scrambled to
