### Chapter 9: The Morning After The party was settling into a dull hum, a far cry from the wild revelry of hours before. Yet, as I stood there, my heartbeat danced a frantic rhythm, disobeying the tranquil atmosphere surrounding me. The memory of kissing Shane Lindley flooded my mind—a bold move driven by rivalry and sheer recklessness, but undeniably powerful. It was reckless, yes, but at the same time... it was exhilarating. **The hottest kiss ever**? Oh my God, I mentally chastised my unloyal inner voice. How could I, of all people, feel mixed emotions about that kiss? But the truth was hard to ignore. A sly thrill crept into my consciousness, suggesting perhaps I experienced a spark of something more—a tantalizing whisper of desire as I felt the undeniable proof of his arousal pressing against me. A generous endowment, as Brooke would describe it, vividly came to mind. Unfortunately, that impressive anatomy belonged to the infuriating Shane Lindley. I quickly banished any risqué thoughts from my head and focused on the task at hand. Will Larsen cornered me as I busily shoved empty beer bottles into a trash bag. A chaotic cleanup, surely not for my own soirée, yet here I was. “Hey, can I crash at your place tonight?” he asked, his voice low and conspiratorial. I shot him a bewildered glance. “Why? You’re just a stone's throw away. And you don’t look drunk enough to warrant a sleepover.” “Yeah, I’m not even buzzed,” he replied, his eyes nervously flicking over his shoulder. Following his gaze, I spotted Beckett and Lily. She was nestled against him, a cozy figure already whispering sweet nothings—this was definitely not the time for Will to want to go home. “C’mon, Di. Let me crash, and maybe we can act like we’re gonna hook up?” I let out a snort. “I’m serious,” he pressed. “Just… pretend you’re into me. It’ll give me a reason to, you know, not walk back to them.” An unsettling flicker of alarm ignited in me. Will had recently moved in with Beck and Ryder, just after Shane’s abrupt departure for Meadow Hill. What troubles could they already be facing? But how could I disregard a friend in need? As fate would have it, Shane joined us just then, and without a second thought, I thrust the trash bag into his hands. I interlaced my fingers with Will’s. With a playful wink, he took my hand and called out to Beckett, “Hey, go on without me. I’m crashing here.” Beckett blinked in surprise before the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a knowing grin. “Got it. See you tomorrow.” Once Beckett and Lily were out of sight, I tugged on Will’s hand. “Let’s go.” Shane, his jaw twitching in disbelief, protested, “Wait, you two aren’t going to help?!” I turned and offered him a cheeky smile. “Not my party, not my mess.” Will merely shrugged, “Sorry, bro. I’ve got other plans.” Shane’s glare could have burned a hole through solid concrete. “Don’t do this. You’re making a mistake. She’ll eat you alive!” I couldn’t help it. “Oh, he’s just jealous,” I smirked. “He’s been obsessed with me for ages.” “You wish,” Shane growled with indignation. “And don’t forget who kissed who,” I shot back, suppressing a smirk. “Don’t forget whose anatomy got hard and whose got dry.” “Wetter than the Atlantic,” he fired back. “Dryer than the Sahara.” I waved him off airily. “But seriously, I’m sure you’ll manage to impress a woman someday—just keep practicing with your sex doll.” Will and I erupted into laughter, pulling away towards the path home while Shane begrudgingly resumed clearing the detritus of the party, his broad shoulders hunched in resigned annoyance. “You could be nicer to him,” Will said, amusement dancing across his face as the full moon illuminated his grin. “Could, but won’t,” I answered with a cheeky grin. And there was no way I was ever allowing Shane to know just how much I enjoyed that kiss. Why did the arrogant ones have to be such good kissers? Once we were cocooned safely in my apartment, I closed the door with a sigh of relief. Will turned to me with earnest eyes. “Thanks for doing this.” “Are you really staying over?” I asked, half-expecting a last-minute change of plans. “Yeah, it’s cool, right?” He seemed genuinely hopeful. “Well, yes, but…” “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting anything.” “Perfect,” I said, relieved. “But I require an explanation in exchange for my hospitality.” I had already made up my mind to provide him with a degree of comfort—my bed was big enough for the two of us, and I couldn’t resist the chance to offer my beauty routine as part of the package. “Do you have a spare sheet or blanket for the couch?” he asked, a hint of trepidation in his eyes. “Pfft! You’re sleeping in my bed,” I replied, tossing my hair back dramatically. “Just accept it—and brace yourself for my beauty plans. And hey, you might need some TLC for that sunburn.” “Got roasted during the week,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “Okay, come on into my office.” I waved him forward, watching as he entered the small space. He was the quintessential all-American guy—there was something boy-next-door about him that was hard to resist. The type who wore his letterman jacket in high school and graduated with practicality. “You okay there?” he asked, noting my brief silence. “Yeah. Just... imagining you in a pumpkin patch.” “Uh, was I naked?” he asked, laughing. “Of course not! That would terrify the other families!” As we entered the bathroom, I fished out the exfoliant I loved and started our little skincare adventure. He complied without a word, and soon we were giggling, smearing the grainy substance across our faces. The next product came next—“Now we mask up. This bad boy needs to stay on for fifteen minutes.” I squeezed a glob of black goo onto my fingers. “What the hell is that? Charcoal?” he winced. “Sure, it has charcoal. Trust me, you’ll thank me later when those eye bags vanish.” Once the masks were plastered on, we strolled back to my bedroom to let time pass. Will’s eyes darted down to his swim trunks, then to the bed. “These are still damp. Any chance you have a pair of boxers I could borrow?” “Actually, I do.” I brightened at the thought. “My younger brother keeps a drawer for when he sleeps over.” Rummaging through the dresser, I found a plaid pair and displayed them triumphantly. “These should fit, although they might be a little snug.” He caught them as I tossed them to him. I changed quickly into my pajamas in the bathroom and came back to find him already lounging on the bed, his bare legs stretched out comfortably. “So what’s up, man? Not enjoying life with Ryder and Beckett?” I prompted, trying to pry into his complex mind. “No, it’s great. Way better than dorm life. Ryder's hardly even home.” “Ah, so what’s the real story then?” I pressed. Will took a moment, exhaling heavily, his inner turmoil evident. “It’s complicated…” He hesitated. “Wait. Are you and Beckett...?” “No!” he denied vehemently, but there was something about his tone that intrigued me further. “Are you sure? Sometimes he gives off bi vibes,” I speculated nonchalantly, gauging his reaction. “Not like that!” he insisted, though the concern etched on his brow revealed more than he let on. “What’s it like then?” My curiosity tinged with excitement fueled my questioning. Will shifted, nervously biting his lip, caught between the urge to confide and the fear of judgment. “I won’t tell anyone,” I promised sincerely. “Not even Gigi.” “You really won’t?” he challenged, apprehensively searching my eyes. “Honest. Ask me what secret Brooke Sato kept from Mexico. I won’t spill.” “What happened?” he asked, eyebrows raised in skepticism. “I’m not telling you. It’s a secret,” I reiterated, biting my tongue to suppress a laugh. “I can’t believe that worked,” he mumbled, shaking his head in amusement. “Okay, now tell me what’s going on with you and Beckett.” “Well, we’ve been… doing this thing lately. Threesomes.” I feigned surprise, already piecing together the gossip before he even finished. “Oh…” I tried to keep my face neutral, despite the growing interest swirling within me. “Threesomes can be fun.” “They’re hot,” he admitted, an edge of guilt spilling from his admission. “Okay…” I encouraged him, “So what’s the issue?” “Well, the problem is, I’m not supposed to think they’re hot.” His expression mingled with anxiety. “You’re allowed to enjoy group sex. It doesn’t define your sexuality,” I replied, trying to ease his self-imposed tension. “But I just… I thought I had it all figured out.” “Okay, but why didn’t you want to go home tonight?” I pressed further, tightening the threads of our conversation. “I don’t know… didn’t feel like walking.” He shrugged dismissively, though I sensed there was much more beneath the surface. “Lying to your best friend doesn’t build trust, Will. Seriously.” “Fine. Best friend adjacent,” he flashed a grin. “But I want a girlfriend at some point. If I keep this up…” “Good point. If my boyfriend said something like that, it would definitely be a major ‘no’ from me,” I acknowledged, finally understanding his dilemma. “Exactly!” Will sighed in relief. “So it’s the perfect time for a break. Beckett’s leaving tomorrow and won’t be back for a month.” The sudden sleepiness swept over him, and he yawned. “Oh man, did I just get tired super fast?” It was contagious; I struggled to contain my own yawn. “Time to sleep then. Stay on your side of the bed or else sleepover privileges are revoked!” “I promise I won’t breathe in your direction,” he joked as I turned off the lights. As I snuggled into my side of the bed, I couldn’t shake off a niggling thought—How nice it would be to cuddle, platonically, of course. As I drifted off to sleep, my mind flickered to memories of Percy—the connection we’d shared. But those thoughts slid away as I fell into slumber. --- Suddenly, I was jolted awake by a persistent knocking that sounded in the ethereal depths of sleep. It was a voice I’d heard before. “Diana, are you home?” I bolted up in bed, groggily rubbing my eyes and scanning the room for comprehension. Had I really drifted off, or was my mind playing tricks? The clock flashed **nine o’clock**—not too early, but enough on a Sunday morning to stir a faint alarm. “Diana?” Percy again, his voice thick with concern from the other side of my apartment door. Another knock. Will stirred beside me, bleary-eyed and perplexed. “What’s going on?” he mumbled, barely coherent. “Don’t say a word,” I hissed, scrambling out of bed and running my fingers through my messy hair. I had to deal with this—immediately.