I don’t think so, I type back. I think it was just a moment.
Matilda, unexpectedly, is the one to send through a GIF this time—of a woman rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
My heart sinks in my chest. It was obvious, wasn’t it? There was some kind of code I was supposed to understand about what happened between Thad and me last night, but I didn’t because I’m a loser who doesn’t know anything about sex or relationships. Every time I take two steps forward, I take one step back.
Matilda: I knew this would happen. Just don’t be surprised if things get weird. DON’T get clingy.
Nina, also uncharacteristically, replies with words this time: I don’t think he would have done something if it didn’t mean anything.
Matilda: He’s a man. Of course he would.
Antonina: Men have feelings too.
Another GIF from Matilda, this time of a woman hysterically laughing.
Antonina: Just talk to him. Tell him what you want and ask him what he wants.
Matilda: Let HIM do the talking. Do not show any weakness. They can smell it like blood in the water.
I turn off my phone. Holy cannoli. I think I’ve made a huge mistake.
Chapter 32
Thad
Last night changed everything.
The memories come back to me even before I’m fully conscious again—Helen’s beautiful, supple body moving under me, her warmth, her trust, her readiness. I could replay it a hundred times in my mind and still find some new detail to snag my attention, something I missed before that suddenly comes into sharp relief. It wasn’t my first encounter, not by a long shot. I’m my father’s son, as my mother likes to point out, and I’ve never lacked for attention. In the past, my partners have been more like Vera—dangerous, sleek, confident girls who came after me. There was never any mystery aboutifit was going to happen, only when. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve always enjoyed myself, a lot, but it felt more like a team sport we were playing together, two athletes who knew the rules of the game and had played with many others before, showing off our best moves.
Nothing with Helen has been like that. She is not dangerous by any stretch of the imagination. Whenever I’ve tried to treat this like a game and assumed she’d understand the rules, she thwarts me at every turn. She is sunny when I expect her to be sexy. Wholesome where I’m used to dangerous.
But as easy as it would be to peg her as the good girl, I also can’t fully explain to myself why last night was so hot. It was obvious she wasn’t as experienced, didn’t know the game, so to speak…but it also didn’t feel like a game. We weren’t competing. I wasn’t trying to impress her and prove to her I wasn’t like any guy she’d had before because—hey, there’s never been any guy before.
I was supposed to be the one who knew what I was doing, but I was in uncharted territory, too. Because if it wasn’t about showing off, winning some challenge, then what were we doing? I was kissing her because Iwantedto kiss her, not prove to her I was the best kisser she’d ever been with. I wasn’t trying to surprise her with any new moves, I was just trying to make her feel good, because I felt like she deserved it. AndIwanted to be the one to make her feel that way.
What the hell is happening to me?
I even came inside my underwear like a teenager feeling up my first girlfriend, and I’m glad I have time to quickly clean myself up and change before I see her again. Any moment, Helen is going to come out of the bathroom, and I have no idea what to say to her. What Ishouldsay to her or even what I want to say to her. The right thing to do in this scenario would probably be to not feel up an ex-nun without having a clear idea the outcome I want. But since we’ve already crossed that bridge, I think the decent thing to do is to solidify that we’re together now. You don’t one-night-stand a nun.
So…we’re together now. Okay. I try to wrap my head around that, what it will mean. Helen is my girlfriend. My girlfriend whose brother I’m about to send back to prison—for his own good, but still. Moving past that, we put Dean in jail, drive back to Chicago, and…stay in each other’s lives. Go to church together, probably, which I can deal with. Bonus points since it’ll drive my megachurch-going Dad crazy that I’m switching over to the Catholics. And all the other stuff couples do, too—movies, food, markets, learning what we each like.
Spending some nights at her place and some at mine. Trading off who gets to pick movies. Old classic film noirs when I get to choose, of course, and probably rom-coms when it’s her turn. I can deal with that.
I’ll impress her with my gumbo. I can cook other things all right, but that’s the one recipe I’m confident will knock her socks off. I know she likes to bake, so I’ll have to spend more time at the gym to keep myself in fighting shape. I wonder if she’d like to come with me. I imagine those curves in spandex, heads turning as she walks across the gym floor. Knowing Helen, she’ll be totally oblivious and think the dude at the weights who’s trying to get in her pants is just a nice, helpful guy.
But with Helen, I know I’ll never really have to worry on that front. There’s something in her that’s genuinely kind, guileless. I know instinctively that she would never hurt me, and in turn that makes me determined to never hurt her, or let anyone else get the chance.
I imagine lazy Sundays, sleeping in, thennot sleepingbut still staying in bed. This is all new to her, so I won’t rush things, but I think I’ll honestly enjoy that. Taking our time to get to know each other, figuring out what she likes, what she needs. Getting to see those red lacy panties in person, getting to be the one to take them off. Knowing when I find sexy pictures on her phone that she’s taking them for me.
Holy shit. My heart is hammering in my chest with how much I want it all. I don’t know how it blindsided me like this, how I didn’t see it crawling up on me.
Helen’s my woman. My sweet, awkward, sexy woman.
As if on cue, the bathroom door opens and Helen peers into the room, staring at the sight of me awake. Her head disappears from view, then reappears a moment later, and somehow I know she was in there coaching herself to come out and talk to me. “Um. Hi. Good morning.”
I grin back at her, unable to hide my good mood. “Good morning.”
Helen does a little double take, like she’s taken aback by my cheerfulness. I guess I must’ve been a pretty sour bastard this whole trip if the sight of me smiling isconfusingto her. I’ll have to make it up to her.
