Simon slides one hand down to the back of my neck, and wraps the other arm around me. He’s mirroring me. He’s gentling me. He whispers, “I don’t know what you’re thinking. I can’t tell whether I should be embarrassed or sorry or . . .”
“Or what?”
His mouth is close to mine. “Happy?”
I close my eyes and let out a breath. “Is that on the table?”
“Baz . . . we kinda sorta had sex. And I didn’t cry or break anything.”
I laugh. It sounds wet.
“Babe . . .” he says. That’s new. That’s extraordinarily stupid. “Areyoufreaking out?”
I hold him a little tighter everywhere that I can. He does the same.
“I’ve never done that before,” I say into his chin.
“I know.”
“I think I probably did it wrong.”
“There’s not really awrong—”
“I know that’s not true, Snow.”
He’s nosing at my cheek. “Did something happen that you didn’t want to happen?”
“No.”
“Did you feel good?”
“Yes, obviously.”
“Me, too. Hey—” He tries to find my eyes in the dark. His pupils are wide as saucers. “Me, too.”
I swallow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah . . .” He kisses me. “So good, Baz.”
I hear him say it. And I feel him say it. And I feel something in my stomach clenching around it. “I’m a mess,” I say. “I should—”
“You should stay right here with me. It’s not like you’re gonna get a UTI . . .”
“A what?”
“Do you need to get up?”
I don’t need to. I just—“No.”
His arm goes snug around my middle. “Then stay . . .”
“All right.”
He kisses my mouth. And then my chin. And my nose. And there’s something easy about him that I’m not used to. That I didn’t expect.
“Snow . . .”
“I kinda want to tell you that you have to call me ‘Simon’ when we’re covered in spunk, but I don’t think I actually care anymore.”
