It was J.J.'s turn to look at me in surprise. "Huh. I never knew. I always thought you avoided me."
I got up and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "Want one?" I asked him. When he nodded, I took the lid off and carried it over to him. Finally, I said, "I did avoid you because I knew it was only a matter of time before I humiliated myself in front of you."
J.J. sipped his water, his eyes on me. "It was probably for the best. You were jailbait when I got older anyway." He studied me. "But you never seemed to date anyone. Why was that?"
"Four reasons," I answered, which made him laugh because he knew I was talking about my brothers. "At least in high school anyway. I never hooked up with anyone in college because I had plans and I didn't want to deal with the drama that seemed to come along with dating. I got to see plenty of the ways they screwed over the women they dated, both literally and figuratively, and decided I had more important things to worry about."
J.J. froze and lowered the bottle a moment before he squeezed it so hard the water shot out of the top of it. He put it on the counter at his side and grabbed some paper towels off the roll hanging beneath the cabinets. "You never hooked up with anyone? Are you telling me you were a virgin that night?"
Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I couldn't believe I'd let that slip.
The way he was looking at me made a cold sweat break out on my skin.
"Um, only in the most technical sense," I said, speaking quickly. "I, uh, have some, um, toys."
J.J. froze again and I lowered my head, sighing heavily. I listened to him as he wiped up the spilled water, his breathing a little ragged.
When the lid of the trashcan opened and closed, I finally opened my eyes and met his gaze.
"Why me?" he asked. "After all those years. Why me and why now?"
I could have told him everything—about how I didn't want to be a twenty-seven-year-old virgin when I finished grad school and that living in a small town made it almost impossible to meet men without everyone knowing everything. About how I didn't want a real relationship because I'd seen the damage my brothers wrought when they were my age.
Those were part of the truth.
But the most important part, the part he needed to know was what I said next.
"It felt right. That night, with you, was the first time it felt right."
I forced myself to stay still as he came toward me. J.J. stopped just a few inches away and I had to tilt my head all the way back to see his face.
The backs of his fingers brushed my cheek as he looked down at me. Still moving slowly, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against mine.
The kiss was short and light, barely a kiss at all.
But I felt it all the way down to my soul.
He lifted his head, his eyes still on mine. "It felt right to me, too."
J.J. walked back over to the stove and I had to sit down because my legs were too shaky to hold me any longer.
I tried to make sure I didn't plop down too hard because I didn't want him to realize exactly what he'd just done to me with that kiss.
My knees were jelly. My brain was mushy and empty at the same time.
In that moment, I would have done anything he wanted.
Even say yes to his earlier marriage proposal.
I sat in silence and watched as he finished off the beef medallions he brought and added tomatoes and avocado to a salad in my one big salad bowl.
He took a plate with two steaming potatoes out of the microwave and started bringing everything to the table. Somehow, he must have realized the state of my fridge because he'd even brought butter and sour cream for the potatoes.
"This looks great," I finally said. "Thank you for making me dinner."
When J.J. smiled at me, I knew that I was in deep, deep trouble and it wasn't because I was pregnant with his baby.
He keptthe conversation moving while we ate, thank goodness, because my brain was still addled from that barely-there kiss and what it had done to my heart.
