"All right, there's a little of that involved," she admits. "But I promise, I'm here to help too. If you want to sleep with Nate, then there's no reason that you can't. Unless he says no, then you can't."
"I don't desire to sleep with him."
"Not the same thing," she points out. "You can want to have sex for a lot of reasons that aren't because you're craving sex itself. You can choose to do it because you think it's fun, or because you love him, or because you're bored..."
"Are those all reasons you have sex?"
She shrugs. "Sometimes. Other times, I just really want someone."
"Hmm."
"You have thoughts?"
"I always have thoughts," I respond. "There's a lot to think about in the world."
"Evidently."
"What if it's disappointing?" I ask slowly.
"What if what's disappointing?"
"Sex," I respond. "What if I decide I do want to sleep with him, which is immaterial because he doesn't want that, but if he did, and then it was really bad."
"You didn't think it was bad with either of the other two people," she points out. "You said it was as fun as riding a horse."
"It was. I don't hate riding."
"Maybe you won't hate this riding either," she murmurs.
"What?"
"Nothing," she says quickly. "Look, I can't tell you how it's going to feel. But I can tell you that it's an entirely different experience with someone you love. Even for me. If I want someone because I find them attractive, it feels good because it's pleasure, but when it's with someone I love, it's so much more. You might like it better. And if you don't, then you don't. I'm sure Nate will understand."
"There's nothing to understand anyway, because it's not going to happen," I point out. "He also said he broke it off with Camille because he was in love with someone else," I blurt out.
"Did he tell you anything about the person he was in love with?"
"Not much. He said he'd loved her for more than five years, and that he still loved her. So there, I can never tell him that I love him, because that would be unfair to us both. He loves someone else." My voice cracks, and the threat of tears is very real.
"Evie..."
"Are you going to tell me that I should still tell him? Because maybe he should still know?" I watch the flames dance as I wait for her to answer.
"No."
"Oh." I pick at the skin of my fingers.
"I mean, I think you should tell him," she says. "But what I was going to ask was if there's any part of you that thinks the person he's in love with could be you."
I turn to face her, and I'm sure she can see my surprise on my face. "Me?"
"Yes, you. Think about it, Evie. It makes total sense."
"No, it doesn't. We were alone in my room when he told me all of this. If he were in love with me, then he could have just said so."
"Like you told him?" she asks.
I frown, kind of seeing her point, but also not wanting to. "That's not the same."
