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An addiction he was trying to beat.

After a quick shower, I put on her panties and crawled into bed beside her.

It was still dark when I woke up. Madison was gone. I crawled out of bed, slipped on a tank top, and left my bedroom. The communal living room was dark save for a sliver of light from beneath the closed bathroom door. From beyond that door, I could hear the sounds of Madison sniffling and mewling to herself. Instead of knocking, I listened for a few moments, savoring the sweet sounds of her despondence. It was time to twist the knife. I sat down with my back against the doorframe. "Madison," I called out to her. "Are you okay?"

Go away," she answered. Her voice was a harsh rasp.

"Please," I said. "I think we did something really bad. I think we..." I let my voice trail off, as though I couldn't bring myself to put a name to what we'd done.

"That drink you gave me. What was in it?"

"I don't know," I lied. "One of the boys made them for me." She didn't immediately respond, so I let the silence linger for a minute or two before saying, "You can tell Parker that it's my fault."

Madison started crying so I let myself into the bathroom. She was sitting on a towel in front of the toilet. Her hair was a tangled mess. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. She looked strung-out and used up. Passion marks stood out like splashes of purple on her fair skin. The best part? She was still wearing my shirt. I knelt beside her, holding her as she sobbed. After enjoying that for a few minutes, I started fishing for information. I needed to know how much of the party she remembered. It didn't amount to much. She had vague memories of dancing and fooling around in the van. She knew Parker helped her upstairs. "If he helped us upstairs, he can't be too mad at us," I said, careful to add a hint of doubt to my voice.

"I cheated on him," she said pathetically. "I'm straight," she added with a rueful laugh.

"I'll tell him it was my fault. I'll..." I hedged, pretending to grasp at straws. "I'll say I got the wrong idea when we danced that first time." It was a subtle knife. Madison had been the one that wanted to dance. It had been her idea to put on a bi-curious performance for the boys. I laid it on thick. "He loves you, Madison. What you have is special... This was just one stupid thing. We were drunk... He loves you so much. He'll forgive you." By the time I helped her into her bed, my shirt was soaked with her tears, everything was her fault, and we were best, best friends. Once Madison was asleep, I crept back into my room and called Parker. He was going to need to be told how to handle this.

He answered on the second ring. "Evelyn," he said. "What's... ummm...What's up?" He was breathing heavily, fumbling his words. His voice cracked and quavered. I knew that sound, knew what it meant.

"Parker," I said coyly. "Who is sucking your cock right now?" He didn't answer. Only the sound of his shuddering breath came across the line. I turned the volume on my phone all the way. In the background, soft, suckling sounds confirmed my suspicions. "I can hear her, Parker. Who is it?" I was amused, not angry.

"Lacey."

My world stopped turning. "Oh," I said flatly. Parker muttered something unintelligible that devolved into a low, throaty moan I'd refused her invitation. I'd fucked another girl's boyfriend on her bed. This was her retaliation. She couldn't have known I'd call, so this was just icing on the cake for her. I wanted to be irritated, but I was too turned on. Lacey had the kind of mouth that made me wish I had a cock. The mental image of her full lips pursed around Parker's left my skin flush and my lips damp. I opened my nightstand drawer and took out my vibrator, moistening it with my mouth before touching myself. "Tell me about it," I said.

"Ummm..." he said, breathlessly. "She's so good, Evelyn. Her... her... eyes... her lips... Oh, fuck."

"Not yet," I told him.

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