She stands, hands covering her cheeks as she runs her eyes over me. The appreciation and ownership I see there makes me puff out my chest like a fucking peacock. “Goodnight.” She finally whispers, shooting me a playful smile. I smile back, then collapse back onto the floor, trying to catch my breath all over again.
This woman is going to kill me.
27
HOLLY
Becca hands me a beer from Micah’s fridge, dropping heavily onto the cushion next to me. I watch, wishing I had had popcorn, as Micah and Kade try to pry a tape measure out of Colton’s hand. He’s been walking around, measuring everything, including me, and generally annoying everyone. It wasn’t until he started teasing Becca and I about having us measure his dick that Kade and Micah lost their patience.
“Fuckers! It was a joke. Let go!” Colt drops to the floor, tucking the tape measure under his chest, squealing. It’s hilarious, because I know how deadly he can be. I’ve watched him spar with Becca and others at the Dojo, and he’s incredibly powerful. But he’s not using any of that power here. Instead, the pitch of his yell changes as Micah and Kade, seemingly of the same brain, lick their index fingers, then stick them in Colt’s ears.
“Eww,” Becca and I groan, giggling at their stupidity.
“Kade better wash his hands before he comes anywhere near me.” Becca says with a shudder. I snort, but agree. No way do I want Colt’s earwax anywhere near me.
The guys finally pick themselves up. Micah and Kade both jog over, planting goodbye kisses, hands behind their backs after some scolding, on us that leave us flushed, then head back to Colton, who’s watching with a tight expression. We wave as the door shuts behind them.
“What are they doing again?” I ask. Micah and I have been together nearly 24/7 for weeks, so it’s strange to see him go somewhere without me.
“Colt’s got something he needs help with,” she says with a shrug. “Maybe measuring something? I really have no idea.” Throwing her feet up on Micah’s wood coffee table, she takes a big swig of her beer, completely comfortable with herself. It’s something I still envy. Her absolute confidence in her body and in her place in the world.
“So what are we going to do, Chickie? Movies? Gossip? Hit up the sex shop?”
The last suggestion leaves me sputtering, choking on my beer, and her cackling like a loon.
“Becca!” I scold, flushed.
“How can you still get so red? Haven’t you been playing with the toys I brought you?”
I cover my face with a groan. “I can’t believe you asked me that,” I mutter.
“Holly, look at me.”
I drop my hands at her serious tone.
“Your sexuality is nothing to be ashamed of. Not with me, not with anyone. You’re not doing anything wrong, touching yourself.”
“I get that here,” I say, tapping my head. “But that’s not how I was raised. It was a sin. My body was for God, and then my husband. Girls who touched themselves were…sluts.” My tongue stutters over the word I heard my dad use more than once when talking about girls in our community that had sex. The vitriol, the disgust in his tone, stuck with me, making me certain that I never wanted to be a slut, even before I understood what that meant.
Becca’s lip curls. “I can’t believe people are still teaching their girls that shit.”
“What did your dad teach you about your body?” How did she get to be so strong? So sure of herself? Is it really just a matter of how she was raised? If I’d been raised by her dad, would I have turned out as confident and capable as she is?
She laughs, snuggling into the cushions. The furniture in her and Kade’s apartment is a lot more modern, not soft and welcoming like Micah’s, and she seems to be loving his couch. “My dad wasn’t that comfortable with puberty shit, but he still talked to me about it. Then when I turned sixteen, he explained that my body was the only one I was ever going to get, so I better be careful what I do with it, and who I share it with. Then he took me to the doctor and got me a prescription for the pill.”
I can’t even imagine my father being so matter of fact about sex.“I learned about puberty in a book.” I admit.
Becca’s eyes widen. “Your parents gave you a book?”
“No.” I say with a snort. “I would have been locked in my room for a year if they ever saw something like that in my possession. I read it at the public library. They never said one word to me about puberty or sex. When I asked for pads, my mom just added a bit of money to my allowance to cover it.”
“That’s fucked up Hol.” She says, lip curled in disgust.
“Yeah, I guess it is. I can’t ever imagine not talking with my kids about anything important.”
“Do you want kids?” She asks softly.
“I think I might.” I say, speaking the dream I’ve held tight in the very core of me. “I always dreamed of being a mom. Of sticky kisses and giggles. The idea that I could have that with Brent was…enticing.”
