And second, unless I’d misunderstood, her admission meant I was the first guy who’d brought her to orgasm.
My possessive impulses were back with a sudden fierceness. I leaned slightly away so I could see her eyes.
“Jess, have you ever—I mean, are you…?”
A small V formed between her eyebrows as I struggled to ask my question, but then her forehead cleared when she understood.
“Oh, no. No. I’m no virgin. First of all, my hymen broke when I was a teenager while horseback riding at my aunt’s farm in Texas—thank God, because I hear breaking through that thing the old-fashioned way is like getting stabbed in the hoo-hah. And secondly, I had sex with a guy in college. He was really nice, but it was…underwhelming in the extreme.”
I frowned at this news, irritated someone else had touched her. But also strangely both pissed and relieved the experience had been underwhelming.
“Just one guy?”
She nodded, looking unperturbed, then asked, “What about you? How many girls have you been with?”
I studied her, bracing myself for her reaction to the truth. “Just one.”
Jessica blinked several times, like I’d startled her, and she choked out, “Just…just one?”
I nodded, searching for any clues as to what she was thinking.
“Just one…” she repeated, mostly to herself and pulled away from me. After several seconds her gaze darted to mine, then away again. She laughed without humor, staring at her lap, and said, “I guess you were really in love.”
“What do you mean?” I rested my arm on the bench behind Jess’s shoulders, surprised by her words, wondering if it were possible she already knew how I thought of her.
“With Tina. I guess you really loved her.”
I reeled back, and said much louder than I intended, “Tina? In love with Tina? Oh, hell no.”
Jessica examined me with a questioning frown. “Then why did you…why were you only with Tina? For five years?”
I half rolled my eyes, and tilted my head toward the door to Daisy’s. “Let’s go inside.”
“Are you avoiding the question?”
“No. For the record, I was never in love with Tina. I’d just like some pie if we’re going to talk about this,” I drawled, figuring it was time to return her unfailing honesty with my own.
I was happy to see Jess’s answering smile and nod of agreement.
On our way in I scanned the diner. The place was packed, especially for a late Sunday afternoon, I didn’t see a free table. I was about to suggest we order our pie to-go when Jess pointed to two newly vacated spots at the counter near the door.
“We can sit there.”
Before I could answer, she pulled me to the empty stools. The seats were pretty good, all things considered. I could see the rest of the diner from our position, but the door was to our back. Nevertheless, it was a good place to scope out any booths that might become available.
“Do you need a menu?” she asked, reaching forward to where the laminated trifold menus were kept.
“Nah. I know what I want.”
“Good. Me too.” She smiled, looking at my mouth like she was planning on having it for supper.
I cleared my throat so I wouldn’t groan. Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to remember what we were discussing in the car. This was a mistake. Images of Jess on the hood of her Mustang filled my vision, the faith in her eyes, the raw want and trust.
I meant it when I’d said I loved her type of wild and reckless. It was sweet, honest, and generous. She was a good woman, and I didn’t want her holding back or feeling like she needed to. Thus, I needed to settle on a place and soon. A place where we could be alone together, maybe for days, so we could do things right.
Admittedly, my motivations weren’t entirely honorable; I needed to satisfy the relentless hard-on between my legs, especially when her honest words were playing on repeat between my ears:
I’m trying to go slow. But, it’s not easy with you.
I really like you.
I’m thinking about you all the time.
I missed you terribly.
Being with you feels so good.
I want to be respectful of you, of your wishes.
“So, you were saying about Tina?” Jess prompted, interrupting the self-inflicted torture.
I nodded, sucked in a deep breath, and opened my eyes. I found her watching me with so much trust and admiration I almost pinched myself. This was my reality, and one day she was going to walk away.
“Tina…” I nodded, cleared my throat again.
She waited for a beat, then prompted once more, “I asked you why you stayed with her for five years if there was no love between you. Why didn’t you move on? Date someone else?”
What would have been the point? No one else was you.
I shrugged, stalling, settling on one version of the truth. “Laziness and convenience, I guess. She knew what was up from the start, that I didn’t want anything serious with her or anyone else. Like I’ve said, she wasn’t my girl.”