“I know that now,” I whisper, pulling my knees to my chest. “I just thought . . . I didn’t want to disappoint him, and then when it wasn’t great, that’s exactly how I felt anyway.”
Brandon’s expression softens, his anger fading as he watches me curl into myself. “Listen to me,” he says, taking his place back beside me on the bed. “You arenotthe problem. You weren’t bad at anything. What happened that night, that’s on him. All of it.”
“But—”
“No buts.” He takes my hand, his palm warm against my own, his touch solid and reassuring. “If he sucks in bed, it’s no one’s fault but his.”
My chest tightens, wanting to believe him, but he’s my best friend. How can I trust that he’s not simply telling me what I want to hear?
I blink rapidly, fighting back the sudden press of tears. “How can you be so sure? I mean, after that night, when he’d try to initiate sex again, all I did was clam up. No matter how much I told myself to give it another shot, to relax, and get through it to see if it was better, I couldn’t. Maybe I’m just a prude.”
A laugh bubbles from his chest, equal parts angry and bitter. “Sex isn’t supposed to be something you endure or feel confused about afterward, Tate. It’s supposed to be . . .” He trails off, a flush creeping up his neck. “Any guy who can’t get youoff is either doing it wrong, a selfish asshole, or both. There’s no excuse for that, Tate. None.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks as his words echo inside my head.
Any guy who can’t get you off is either doing it wrong, a selfish asshole, or both.
I swallow, and the heat slides down my chest and to my groin, igniting a different fire of its own.
Of all the things Brandon and I have talked about, physical intimacy was rarely one of them. So, to hear him speak so casually and bluntly now, sends a rush of heat coursing through me so sharp and so unexpected, it makes it hard to breathe.
Images of him with other women fill my mind, like some unrequited fantasy brought to life, and I have no doubt he knows exactly what to do and how.
“Really?” My gaze drops to his mouth, and I have to force myself to breathe, barely recognizing the low tenor of my own voice when I ask, “Has it always been good for the girls you’ve been with?”
His eyes darken, pupils dilating as they flicker to my lips before slowly returning to meet mine. “I make sure of it.”
The air between us crackles with something electric, and I’m suddenly aware of how close we’re sitting, how his thigh presses against mine through the thin cotton blanket.
“And you?” I ask, my voice barely audible above the drumming of my heart. “What about what you want?”
He grunts, and the corner of his mouth hitches. “Trust me, if she feels good, I feel good.”
“Oh.” It’s all I can manage, and I’d probably feel like an idiot if I weren’t so turned on.
“Oh.” He nods, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair casually behind my ear like this is just another conversation between two best friends. Like I’m not watching his lips as he speaks, imagining them on my skin with every word.
What am I even thinking? This isBrandon.
“But it should also be special. There should be trust and a connection beyond the physical. I haven’t been with tons of women, but I know enough to understand that’s what makes it so powerful—knowing the person you’re with and wanting to connect on a deeper level.”
His words wrap around me like warm honey, sweet and thick, filling all the hollow places inside of me until I cling to them, absorbing them, and wishing like hell my first time had been with someone like him.
I release a shaky breath, wondering where my head’s at and if I’m going crazy when I shift onto my knees, turning fully to face him as I say, “Show me.”
He blinks, the darks of his eyes expanding. “What?”
“Show me how it should be,” I repeat, doubling down, because it’s too late to shove the request back inside even if I wanted to?and I don’t.
He clears his throat and shoots up from the bed like a rocket, hell-bent on taking off.
“I know you just see me as a friend,” I blurt, in a hurry to explain, “but you care about me, and I trust you, which is whatmakes this so perfect. You said so yourself, trust and feelings are two of the most important ingredients.”
I rise from the bed, walking over to him and giving him zero time to think as I lift his hand and place it over my racing heart. “Please, Brandon. Erase my doubts and fears. Show me how it can be. Show me it’s not me, that I’m not the problem.”
He lifts his hands to his hair, tugging on the roots, his expression pained as he says, “You’re hurting right now. You’ve just broken up with your boyfriend. You’re in pain and you might not even know what you’re saying. If I said yes and agreed to this, I’d be no better than Ethan taking advantage when you were drunk.”
“No. This is different,” I insist, my voice steady. “Iwantthis. I’m the one asking for it.”
