“The one before you,” he grunted.
Oh.
I stroked his jaw and said quietly, “I didn’t think you were a virgin even before you told me you weren’t a virgin.”
“Yeah.” He was still grunting.
But…
What was this?
It was dark, but I didn’t miss he seemed uncomfortable.
“Gabe, she’s gone, and it’s good, because, first, if she wasn’t, we wouldn’t have just part-wrestled, mostly-tussled, onward to me having two orgasms. And second, she sounds like the c-word you said she was.”
“She was,” he agreed.
But he said no more.
“This feels weird,” I admitted. “You’ve been very honest about what came before me. It isn’t like you’re going to wipe everything clean and not use your experience to make things good for us both.”
He was silent.
Very silent.
And still.
Very still.
I started to get worried.
So when I said, “Gabe,” it came out all trembly.
“Fuck,” he said.
“Fuck what?” I asked.
“You don’t care.”
“About what?”
He reached to turn on a light, and as I was blinking to get used to it, he rearranged us so I was on my back, he was resting down my side, and he was up on a forearm looking down at me.
When I was able to focus on him, put-it-all-out-there-all-the-time Gabe came back.
“Another reason we didn’t work, she was jealous,” he shared. “Ugly with it. You saw women look at me at Ingo’s, you didn’t give that first shit. You were with me. They weren’t. The end. If Ariana saw that, she’d lose her mind. Sometimes cause a scene.”
Yuck.
“That’s gross,” I stated.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“And stupid,” I went on.
“That too.”
“I’m glad you realized she was a waste of your time, because I totally am not.”
