“I think it’s pretty straightforward,” she finally said. If she treated it like it wasn’t a big deal, then it wouldn’t be a big deal.
It was apparently a big deal to Leo. The silence on his end was so thick she could almost reach out and plunge her fingers into it. Finally he said, “So you’re saying, all those times when—”
“No. Just forget I said anything.” When would she learn that pettiness never paid? “We agreed that we weren’t having sex again, so can you just drop it?”
“No, I can’t justdrop it.”
Was he imitating her? Was that supposed to beherprissy tone in those last two words? She started to tell him that dropping it was the only option, but she was talking to a dead line. He’d ended the call.
She collapsed and screamed into her pillow, venting her frustration into the mattress like a teenager throwing a tantrum. Leo was turning her into the brattiest version of herself.
Well, she wasn’t that girl anymore. And adult Faith didn’t care if adult Leo hung up on her a dozen times. His problems were his problems. She had a book to read and snacks to mainline.
Grimly determined not to let him ruin her night, she retrieved her e-reader and settled herself cross-legged against her headboard, turning her attention back to her book. She angrily chomped another Twizzler as she tried to force her scattered mind to pay attention to the sweet words of the hero on the page. Did any real man actually talk like that? Wilderness guide hottie was so clearly written by a woman. Every word coming from his mouth was charming and considerate and lovestruck and…
And kind of like Leo had sounded, once upon a time. Years ago.
Her phone buzzed again, and she dove for it. The bag of Twizzlers hit the floor.
Leo:Open your window.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Surely he didn’t mean…
She scrambled off the bed and bolted to her window, flicking the latch and hauling it up.
“What are you doing, Leonidas?”
“I told you,” he said through gritted teeth as he boosted himself from the first-story window sill to the porch roof adjacent to her room, “not to call me that.”
After a paralyzed moment, her arms remembered how to work, and she popped the screen free and pulled it out of the frame just in time for the top of his head to appear over the ledge.
“Step back,” he commanded. Then he was lifting himself through the opening and wriggling into her bedroom.
Leo Morales was in her bedroom.
He performed a graceful tuck and roll and glided to his feet as if gravity didn’t actually work on him.
“That was easier when I was seventeen,” he said.
She was too startled to censor herself. “Well, you’ve put on about forty pounds of muscles since then.”
A rare smile slid across his face. “Noticed that, did you?” Then the smile was gone and the scowl was back. “What the fuck, Dutch? I never gave you an orgasm?”
She spun away and covered her face with her hands. “I told you I don’t want to talk about this.” Her words emerged muffled, and Leo circled to stand in front of her, arms folded and jaw tight.
“Well, I do. Because the thought that I never actually made you come in all the time we were together is…” He swallowed hard. “It’s kind of destroying my whole concept of myself in a way that I really cannot deal with. So if you could just confirm or deny, that would be great.”
She dropped her hands to glare at him. “The most words you’ve spoken to me since we started talking again, and it’s about your sexual performance?” Her lip curled in an attempt to hide her pounding heart. “Typical man.”
He jerked his hands up in exasperation. “Yes. Any man would have his world rocked by the news that his girlfriend never enjoyed his touch.”
“God, are we really doing this? Fine.”
She crossed her arms, matching his combative body language. “It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it. I did. It made me happy. But I was also a teenager who had a strange relationship with her body and was pretty disconnected from some of those physical cues.”
Was she going to tell him this next part? God, why not at this point? Cheeks burning, she continued.
“I thought I was feeling what I was supposed to be feeling because it felt good, but it wasn’t until much later—with the help of an expensive vibrator that was a gift from a friend, by the way—that I realized what an orgasm actually felt like.” She forced herself not to look away from him. “It wasn’t you. It was me. Okay?”
