“I know. I’m all for women being comfortable with their sexuality. But I’m just…private, I
guess.”
“Private or shy?” she challenges.
I shrug and swivel my chair from side to side. “I don’t know. I’m inexperienced, which is fine, I
know that. But now that I’m dating Zach and he’s…not inexperienced…I find myself worrying more
about all of that.”
“Did you talk to Zach about it?”
I stare at her, horrified, because, “NO. Why would I do that? We’ve been dating for a week. It’s
way too early for that. He knows I’m…well, a virgin. But I don’t think it needs further discussion.”
She frowns. “Look, it’s not my place to give you advice. But if things start looking like they’re
moving toward the bedroom, you’re going to have to talk to him. Don’t let whatever worries are in
your head ruin things between you.”
“Ruin?” Have I been worried about the wrong thing? I thought spilling my guts was the worst
thing I could do.
“Yes,” she says, wincing. “Really great sex is about communication. The books where the hero
just magically gives the heroine an orgasm are not reality. Your first time can be awkward and
overwhelming. So if you don’t have a partner who’s right there with you, tuned into you, and ready to
listen, then it’s not going to be good. I don’t want to think about Zach in the bedroom. He’s like my
brother, so…ew, but he’s a good man. He is so in tune with Jonas, and he’s an amazing brother. So I
have to think those qualities will carry over into other areas of his life.”
Did someone turn the heat up? I’m sweating. “Right. Ok. I’ll think about it. Good talk.”
“Ok, fine,” she says with a little laugh, throwing up her hands. “I get it. I’ll mind my own
business. But if you need to talk, come to me, please. I raised a teenager, remember? I have a bit of
experience with this stuff.”
“I’m not a teenager,” I say flatly, folding my arms over my chest. This having friends thing is
good, I think, but it’s also maddening. “I somehow made it to thirty-four without interference in my
life. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.” Her face shuts down, and I immediately want to slap myself in the
face. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I’m not used to all this.”
Cara stands, moving to my doorway and looking down at me with a raised eyebrow.Please don’t
leave. Please don’t stop being my friend.“Not used to all this? What does that mean?”
