Chapter 17 #2
His brows furrow as his lips purse.[*3] “I’m talking about how you only do one-night stands. I’m saying that’s okay with me.”
I continue to stare at him blankly. “Harrison. What. The fuck. Are you talking about?”
He readjusts, sitting up completely. His eyes scan my face, darting back and forth. “Wait. What are you talking about?”
“What do you mean, what am I talking about? I have no idea what one-night-stand rule you’re talking about.”
I can see the gears turning in his head, his face slowly falling as he starts to put pieces together.
Told you, Cobalt says. He thinks he likes you, but he doesn’t even know you.
“You told me you weren’t interested in relationships,” Harrison says.
“The night we met. You said you didn’t believe in soulmates, and even if they were real, you weren’t interested in finding yours.
That’s why you only ever had one-night stands in college and never dated anyone. ”
Oh.
Oh, yeah.
Because I let him believe things that weren’t true and never corrected him.
Saw you leave the party last night with Tyler. What’s the story there?
Oh, you know. Wink wink.
(We left together coincidentally.)
Or,
Wanna watch a movie tonight?
Can’t. I’m busy, unfortunately.
Hot date?
Oh yeah. I’m gonna be busy all night.
(I was behind on schoolwork.)
There’s a whoosh and a scream and complete emptiness in my mind.
Hearing the love of your life say he’d be okay with a one-night stand? That, coming from Harrison Carter? The least one-night-stand person to ever exist?
Except…is he? He’s certainly on the dating scene. Or he was, anyway. What the hell do I know about his sexual history?
I think you can make some educated guesses, Cobalt says. Thump, thump.
Even still. What does this say about our relationship, if he’s cool to just spend this night together? Hooking Up with Limitations?
“That’s not true at all,” I say. “None of it. I’m sorry I led you to believe that.”
His face fully falls now, his breath coming in short.[*4] “Then…why…what…what?”
“I just…” Do it, I tell myself. Do it. “The opposite of that, actually. I like to take it slow. Really slow.”
That’s not really an answer to his question, but he doesn’t press me on it. He stares at me, and I see the real question written on his face. Then why didn’t we work out? After all, we were set up to be the slowest of slow burns. But we were so slow, the candle blew out.
Inhale.
Exhale.
“Okay,” he finally says, as if reassuring himself. “Slow. I can do slow. If you want to do slow. If you want this at all.”
“I do,” I whisper.
“Okay.” He reaches out for my hand, and I accept it, letting him hold our intertwined fingers in his lap. “Let’s start slow. Tell me one thing—just one. One truth about Emma.”
Do it, I tell myself again. Do it. Do better. One thing. No explanation required.
Inhale.
Exhale.
I have vaginismus.
My vagina is really, really tight.
I’ve been keeping a secret from you.
“The thing is…” Inhale, exhale. “I’m a virgin?”
I don’t know why those are the words that come out of my mouth, and I certainly don’t know why they come out as a question.
My virginity isn’t something I put a lot of stake in.
I likely would’ve lost it years ago if it weren’t for my vaginismus, and in that way, it’s kind of out of my hands.
If someone were to ask me about my sexual history, my first thought would be I have a condition.
It would not be I’m a virgin, which makes my outburst even more baffling.
Cop-out, Key Lime says.
Harrison’s brow furrows. He stares at me for at least ten seconds before saying, “Wait, what?”
“I, uh—” I say, my breath coming in short bursts. “I’ve never had sex?”
Harrison blinks at me. “What?” This one is more of an Excuse me? than a What did you just say? but it leaves me fumbling just as much. “But…?” He narrows his eyes, and I can see the wheels starting to turn. “What about…?”
I am genuinely dying to know what’s about to come out of his mouth, but he pulls his lips together after a few seconds of thought.
This is absolutely the point at which I should offer further explanation. But some sadistic part of me needs to know how he’s going to react to this information before I continue talking.
“I’m sorry, I—” he starts to say, then cringes. “Not sorry because of, you know, but because I…I’m not sure what I…” He shuts his mouth and stares at me for a moment before continuing. “I was never going to put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.”
“I know that. Of course I know that.”
“I’m just…grappling with how severe my misunderstanding was.”
I swallow. “Misunderstanding?”
“In college? I felt like you could make eye contact with a guy at a party, and he’d come running your way. I mean,” he says, letting out a strained chuckle, “I watched you pick up guys at parties. It drove me insane.”
“But I never actually went home with them.”
Harrison frowns, processing. He opens his mouth to speak, inhales, and holds his breath, looking at me. I nod, letting him know it’s okay to go on.
“Why?”
“It’s…complicated,” I eke out.
Harrison nods slowly. “Right. A lot of things about us are complicated.”
“And that’s why I—” I swallow, taking a deep breath. “That’s why I shouldn’t have kissed you without talking through things first. I’m sorry. I know this is a really bad idea. You said you weren’t looking to date right now.”
“No, that’s not what I—” Harrison flinches, as if realizing that is indeed what he said, then recomposes himself. “What if we just…take it slow?” he asks. “Things are complicated for me, too.”
“Right. Of course they are,” I finally respond. “We’ll take it slow?”
“We’ll take it slow.”
I hold out my hand. “Shake on it?”
There’s a gleam in his eyes, and a dimple appears.[*5] “Kiss on it, instead?”
Perhaps the most uncomfortable part of this is that the expression seems genuine. He’s not concerned about me having no experience (with relationships, with sex, with anything). He’s not concerned that I told him I needed to take it slow. He trusts me.
How will he feel when he finds out there are other things I misled him about in college?
It’ll be okay. It’s not a big deal. If we get far enough for it to matter, my pelvic floor therapy will be complete, and I’ll never have to talk or think about vaginismus again. Probably.
You sure about that? Key Lime says in the back of my mind. I’m still larger than you can handle, and Cobalt is quite a bit larger than me.
“Kiss on it,” I agree. He tugs my hand, pulling me forward onto his lap and then wrapping his arms around my waist, completely encircling me. Instead of kissing me, when he leans forward, he rests his forehead against mine, our noses touching, our lips an inch apart.
“I missed you,” he whispers. “All those years. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” I say back, which doesn’t begin to encapsulate how it felt. Take it slow, Emma.
Our lips meet, and later, when we part for the night, I can still feel the ghost of his mouth against mine.
Skip Notes
*1 Softened eyes · Dilated pupils · Slightly parted lips | Facial expression | Frequency: low
Affection.
Lust.
*2 Eyes narrowed · Frown · Tense jaw | Facial expression | Frequency: low
Resigned disappointment.
*3 Furrowed brows · Pursed lips · Head tilted to the right | Facial expression | Frequency: medium
Exasperated.
*4 Sunken eyes · Slack jaw · Short breaths | Facial expression | Frequency: low
Devastation.
*5 Crinkles around eyes · Right dimple · Lopsided smile | Facial expression | Frequency: medium
Gently optimistic.