While we sip our beverages at an outdoor table, the sun still shy,the air scented with fried dough, his hands find mine. Will’s fingers lightly graze back and forth across my knuckles.
It’s such an intimate gesture. Possibly the most intimate thing we’ve done so far. My breath tightens.
“You said your body isn’t used to it,” Will murmurs, a quick smile flitting across his mouth. “I’m going to remind you, all day long.”
My body warms. I feel combustible. “How used to it areyou?”
“Are you asking for my body count?” He hitches a brow.
I shrug. “You don’t have to get specific, but—”
“I dated thoroughly, in Manhattan,” Will says.
“Thoroughly,” I repeat.
His thumbs continue their pattern across my knuckles. “Yeah. But it’s been a while. Five months, maybe. And not that I—” He flushes. Clears his throat. But his tiny caresses never stop. “Not that I’m expecting anything tonight. But in case you were concerned, I’ve been tested since the last person I’ve been with.”
“Same,” I reply, blushing now, too, even though I’m relieved we’re having this entirely necessary conversation. “But Will, I just realized. I’m not on birth control anymore.”
His eyes darken. “I can buy condoms.”
“You didn’t bring any?”
He shakes his head. “I thought I knew where you stood.”
As if to disprove both our assumptions, I lace our fingers together.
“Did you ever have a girlfriend? Besides the one who dumped you in college for not drinking enough?”
Will’s lips curve up. “No. My next-longest relationship lasted about six months, I think.”
“Why?”
He cocks his head. “Why what?”
“Why don’t you think you ever found another long-term girlfriend?” I clarify. “Considering how thoroughly you dated?”
Will glances behind us at nothing. He palms at his neck, fidgety. “I think it was probably because I was attracting the wrong kind of woman? I mean, they were nice girls. Just not right for me.”
“You were attracting New York tens who wanted a FiDi boyfriend who works out at a fancy gym like Equinox and love-bombs his girlfriend with designer presents.”
Will’s lips part and his eyes dance. “Uncanny.”
“I love being right.”
“CEOs usually do.”
“Did you have an Equinox membership?”
“Everybody was doing it,” he says.
“You just wanted to fit in,” I say. “Why didn’t it work out with the New York tens?”
He shrugs, lifting his coffee back to his lips with his free hand. “Couldn’t envision myself introducing them to my mother. To Doug. To Zoe.”
My stomach twists. If I hadn’t already met his family, would Will have been able to envision introducingme?
“What was it you were looking for?” I ask.
