There’s just one anxiety I’ve had about being a virgin. It’s not something I should share with Carmen. It’s too personal. But I guess I’ve already downed too many drinks tonight, because I find that I can’t tighten my lips.
“It’s just … I know at this point, when I have my first time, it probably won’t be her first time. Which is fine with me, I really don’t care about that at all. But I do sometimes worry about letting her down, because I’ll be inexperienced compared to her.”
“Trust me,” Carmen replies, “experience doesn’t mean you’re good at it. People with plenty of experience let their partners down all the time, because they don’t care. I don’t think you need to worry about that.” She takes a pull of her drink. “Hell, experience doesn’t even mean you know what youlike.”
She turns back to look at the fire. Something’s shifted with her energy. She seems rueful. And the way she made that last comment, about experience not meaning you know what you like … there was a bitter tone in her voice.
I want to know why, but it’s clear from her demeanor that it’s not a topic she wants me to follow up on. At least not right now.
Maybe I should give her an out. An opportunity to leave this conversation if the information I just shared renders me totally unattractive in her eyes. If that’s the case, I guess I’d better rip the band-aid off fast.
“By the way, I can go introduce you to the girls if you want. They’re friendly. You’ve probably seen them at Last Word a bunch of times.”
I’m more than half expecting to find her eager to put some distance between us after what I told her.
Instead, she shakes her head. “Nah. Some other time. I like just sitting here with you right now.”
20
CARMEN
Jamie is a virgin … this is perfect.
When he told me, I was surprised. Obviously. I mean, come on.Jamie, a virgin?
Okay, sure, he’s awkward and has zero game. But when a guy is a certain level of hot, he doesn’t need game. Women will quite literally throw themselves at him. And Jamie leaps over that line and then some.
But once the initial surprise wore off, I realized it was an opportunity. It was like finding a jagged, unexpected puzzle piece that slides in perfectly, completing the picture.
We can both do something to help each other out.
He’s anxious about his lack of experience, which is understandable. And I’m still running against a brick wall with my book thanks to my sexual-frustration-fueled writer’s block.
The idea of using Jamie to help with that doesn’t seem as crazy anymore. Because he can use me, too.
The most perfect rationale for a mutually beneficial arrangement is staring me right in the face.
It could be more than a one-and-done hookup. I could take my time finding out what I’m into, while Jamie takes his time gaining bedroom experience.
It’s perfect. As I present the argument to myself in my mind, it’s almost too perfect, which has a cynical voice whispering in the back of my head.
It’s telling me that I’m just twisting logic into pretzels to give in to a craving that’s been growing stronger as I spend more time with Jamie.
But even if that’s true, you know what? Fuck it.
The idea of trying to work past my writer’s block by sleeping with Jamie hasn’t left my mind since I thought of it.
And it’s the only idea I have. If I don’t pull the trigger on it already, who knows if I’ll be able to work through this block and finish my book. The book I’ve set aside a year of my life and upended my entire trajectory to write.
I’m doing it. I’m going to proposition Jamie.
Another plus is that, now that it’s a mutually beneficial arrangement with a rational objective in mind, hopefully that’ll create some emotional distance that keeps him from getting too attached in the process.
That cynical voice in my head really wants to make a comment about that, but I hush it up.
My attention is pulled to the front of the café as Cindy rushes in, clearly in a hurry. There’s something frantic about her demeanor that makes me alert.
“Hey, Cindy,” I say as she shimmies behind the counter. “I thought you weren’t coming in until evening shift.”
