DON'T GET CAUGHT

Laila's pov 

I dropped my napkin. It was the only way to break the spell before I made a sound that would ruin everything.

"I’ll get it," I muttered.

Under the table, Ryan’s fingers gave one last, hard fuck inside me before he pulled away. I almost fell off my chair. I scrambled to my feet, not even looking at the floor for the napkin.

"I need to use the restroom," I said. I didn't wait for anyone to answer.

I walked fast, my thighs rubbing together, still feeling his fingers inside me. I made it to the hallway bathroom and slammed the door, locking it. I leaned against the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. My face was bright red. My hair was a mess. I looked exactly like a girl who was being fucked at a breakfast table.

A second later, the handle turned. Then a soft knock.

"Laila. Open up."

It was Ryan.

I unlocked it just enough for him to shove his way in. He didn't say a word. He just grabbed me, lifted me up, and sat me on the cold marble counter. My skirt was up in seconds.

"She’s right out there," I breathed, my heart thumping in my throat.

"I don't care," he said, "You shouldn't have touched me under that table."

"You touched me first."

He didn't argue. He unzipped his pants and pushed into me right there, hard and fast. I bit my hand to keep from screaming. The sink was cold against my skin, but he was pure fire. Every thrust made the bottles of perfume on the counter rattle.

"Ryan?"

It was Stella’s voice. She was in the hallway, right outside the door.

We both froze. He was still deep inside me, his forehead pressed against mine. We were barely breathing.

"Ryan, are you in there? My mom is asking about the cake."

Ryan closed his eyes, his muscles shaking from the effort of staying still. He waited for a beat, then cleared his throat.

"Yeah," he called out, his voice surprisingly steady. "Just... give me a minute. Stomach’s acting up."

"Oh. Okay. Don't be long."

We heard her footsteps walk away.

The second she was gone, Ryan went wild. He didn't care about being quiet anymore. He held my waist and drove into me until I was seeing stars. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him as close as I could. I wanted to disappear into him. He pinned my wrists on the wall, leaning down on my neck, his tongue leaving a warm trail to my chest.

I came so hard I thought I would faint, my body shaking as I clung to his shoulders. He followed a second later, a low groan escaping him as he finished inside me.

We stayed like that for a long time, just breathing.

"We're going to get caught," I whispered, smoothing my hair back.

Ryan stepped back, fixing his clothes and looking at himself in the mirror. He looked like the golden boy again.

"Maybe," he said, glancing at me with a dark smirk. "But you're not going back to Ethan, and I'm not leaving you alone."

He opened the door and walked out like nothing happened.

I stayed in the bathroom for five more minutes, cleaning myself up. I knew this was a mess. I knew I had destroyed my friendship and probably my life.

But as I walked back to the dining room and saw Ryan sitting next to Stella, his eyes met mine for a split second.

I didn't feel sorry at all. I just wanted more. 

My legs felt like jelly as I sat back down in my chair, picking up my fork as if my heart wasn't trying to beat out of my chest.

Stella was leaning into Ryan again, talking about some party next weekend. "You're coming, right Laila? It’s going to be huge."

I looked at Ryan. He was leaning back, looking totally relaxed, but I saw the way his hand was gripped tight around his glass of juice. He was waiting to see what I’d do.

​"I wouldn't miss it," I said, a slow smile spreading across my face.

I reached out, grabbed Ryan’s hand, the one Stella wasn't holding, and squeezed it. It was right there in front of everyone.

Stella’s mom looked over. "You two always were close," she said, smiling at us. "It’s nice to see you guys getting along so well."

​I felt Ryan’s fingers lock into mine. He didn't pull away. He squeezed back.

Across from me, Ethan’s face went pale. He saw our hands. He knew something was up, but he couldn't say a word without admitting what we had and Stella was too busy being the "perfect" girlfriend to notice what was happening right under her nose.

 ​I knew this was the end of the world as I knew it. Stella would find out. Ethan would hate me. My mom would be ashamed.

​But as Ryan’s thumb traced circles over my knuckles, I realized I didn't care about being the good girl, I never did. Being bad felt too damn good. 

I looked at Stella, my best friend. 

​"Yeah," I said, my voice steady and cold. "We're getting along just fine.”