Chapter 10 #2
"Sure. But…" I wave my hands. "Not the point. Whether Jocko was an asshole or not is irrelevant. What's relevant is what I learned—don't let the past hamstring your future."
"Makes sense to me."
“So, Everett." I blink hard. "This is hard to talk about.
But…so…god—where to start? Everett wasn't my first. But he was the first significant relationship I ever had.
My previous boyfriends in high school and early college, before med school, they were all…
casual. We both knew it wasn't serious." I look at Killian.
"My first time I was seventeen. Bryan Hansen-Mackenzie. He was twenty."
"Story!"
"I know, I know. I was less than two months from my eighteenth birthday, and it didn't seem to matter. Still doesn’t, honestly. I was no different in April than July. The actual birthday was arbitrary. Not the point. I'm just sharing."
"Abby Wilshire for me. I was sixteen, she was seventeen. She was a tourist spending the summer in the BVI."
"Killy, so young!"
He rolls his eyes. "I know. Mom and Dad never found out until, like, a few months ago. They were pissed. Mainly because I lied about where I was and who I was with."
"Oof. Such a deviant," I tease. "Everett and I had several classes together. He was a bad boy. Came from a rough background, got in a lot of fights, smoked, drank, acted like he didn't like anyone. Except me. He liked me. He was sweet with me…as long as I went along nicely."
"Um—"
"Shush." I touch his lips. "I know. Just listen.
He was…mesmerizing, okay? Like, well…it's hard to explain. But he had this way of…hypnotizing you, almost. He had this low, smooth, quiet voice. This stillness that drew you in. And I didn’t really see the warning signs for what they were.
I was young. I was dumb. I was lonely. And, to be totally honest, horny as hell but sick of casual flings with immature frat boys.
Everett and I just clicked, at first. I liked riding around campus in his Wrangler with the top off.
I liked how he'd walk around campus with his arm slung over my shoulder as if I belonged to him.
But the jealousy was an issue almost right away.
He wanted to know everything about everyone I spoke to, girl or boy.
Wanted to know where I was all the time.
Expected me to answer his texts instantly.
It felt easy enough to go along with all that.
I mean, I had nothing to hide, right? He'd been cheated on and treated like crap himself, so I told myself it was… normal. Part of Everett being Everett."
"But then…?" Killian prompts.
"This is where it might get uncomfortable for you, Killy…for both of us. Because what broke us up wasn't that—it was sex."
He looks away, at nothing, thinking, and then back at me. "We've all got pasts, Story. I want to know you, I want to understand you. All of you."
"I wouldn't be telling you any of this if I didn't believe that and want the same," I say, and take a few breaths to steady my nerves. "I've never talked about this before. I don't exactly have a lot of friends, and no one I'm close enough with to talk about this stuff with."
"Not Rinny or Brynnie?" he asks.
I shrug, shake my head. "No, not really. We have fun together, but we don't talk about the tough stuff. Boys, yes. The hurtful stuff boys have done? Not so much."
"Huh. I guess I didn't realize that. I thought you were closer with them."
"Only you, Killy, and obviously I wasn't gonna talk about this with you." A pause. "Then, at least."
"Did he hurt you?" Killian asks.
I shake my head. "Not like you're probably imagining.
" I cover my face. "I'm dragging this out because I don't know how to get into the really hard stuff.
" I cover his mouth. "I know, I don't have to.
But I do. You deserve to know." I let out a breath.
"Casual sex is fun, you and I both know that, I think, right? It's fun to have a quick thing with a stranger. It means nothing, so you can be totally yourself. No judgment, or if there is judgment, you can shrug it off because you’re never gonna see that jackass again, so screw it. His opinion is irrelevant because he means nothing. Or she.”
Killian nods. "With you so far."
"I've always been a decisive person. Dad taught me to approach any problem or decision rationally.
He even has an acronym—PACE, P-A-C-E. Pause, assess, consider, engage.
From day one, that was the lesson. Don't just react, PACE yourself.
Pause before reacting, assess the situation, consider your options, and choose either the best one or the least bad one, and then do it. "
Kilian nods again. "PACE is an official part of A1S training."
"Well, the decisiveness is a part of me, at this point. It's part of what makes me an excellent triage nurse. I'm good at making split-second decisions. But it extends to every part of my life." I look up at him. "Including my romantic life and…and my sex life."
"Naturally."
"Not so naturally to everyone, Killy," I whisper.
"Everett claimed to like that about me, but whenever I made a decision without consulting him, he flipped.
And I mean stupid things, like I stopped for food on the way home from work and didn't ask him what he wanted.
But to me, I knew what he wanted. Why waste time asking when I know if I'm going to BK, he's gonna want a chicken sandwich meal and a Dr. Pepper because his order is always the same? "
"Follows for me."
"Sure. But not to him. He wanted me to consult him.
That's the little shit. Whatever. It takes thirty seconds to shoot him a text and ask his order because it avoids the issue.
Fine. No problem. But I made decisions for my own life—which classes to take, whether to take out loans or accept more handouts from Mom and Dad and Uncle Val.
Everything." I pause. "But me knowing what I want never caused as much of a problem for Everett as in the sex department. "
Killian winces. "Shit. This is gonna be bad, huh?"
I nod. "Yup."
He takes my hand and tangles our fingers. "Carry on."
"I've always tended to take charge, to some degree." I sit up and move off him, sit beside him, bent over with my elbows on my knees, Killian's hand clutched in both of mine. "Please don't look at me and don't interrupt so I can just get it all out."
I look at him, but he just nods, squeezes my hand, smiles at me.
"Taking the ‘don’t talk’ injunction seriously, I see," I joke.
"I do try to listen."
“Teasing," I say, then look away and dial in.
"Until Everett, I thought…I guess I didn't feel so weird.
Most guys I hooked up with tended to at least act like they either liked or didn't mind me being…
um…bossier. I'm not a dominatrix, okay? I'm not into anything like that, so don’t…
don't think that's what I mean. I just…I know what I want and I've…
well, until then, I never had an issue telling my partner what I wanted. Or not just telling but…um, showing."
"I understand what you mean."
I squeeze his hand to acknowledge his statement.
"I thought I was being a clear communicator.
Making it obvious what I wanted, what I expected, what I didn't like.
So I went into things with Everett thinking nothing of that part of myself.
But the first time Ev and I slept together, which was almost four months after we met and a month after we started dating—I made him wait because I liked him and I wanted to see if it could be a thing and not just a hookup.
Where was I? Oh. The first time we slept together, I did something he didn't like: I told him what to do. "
"Oh, the horror," Killian quips, deadpan, robotic, sarcastic.
"Well, to him, yeah. I legit don't remember what I said. Some order. Lay down, or something relatively tame like that. And he…he just looked at me weird, and then ignored me. It was in the middle of things so I just went along, but it stuck in my craw, y'know? I don't like being ignored."
"Who does?" Killy asks. "Sorry. Shutting up."
I give him a smile and a trailing of my fingertip across his lower lip—he has such wonderful lips, full and plump and soft and expressive and so kissable and touchable, and I find myself touching his mouth quite often because I simply can't get enough.
"I don't need you to shut up, Killy. Just keep the interruptions and questions to a minimum until I'm done with the hard part.
" I lean my head sideways onto his shoulder.
"That was the first red flag I ignored. Well, if you don't include the needing to know where I’m going and who I’m talking to as a red flag. "
Killian snorts. "Um, yeah, that's a red flag, babe. A big one."
"Shut up. I may be smart, but I never claimed to be wise." I just breathe for a moment or two and then continue. "Every time Everett and I slept together, there was something like that. And I think he genuinely was trying to let it go because he cared about me."
"Why do I feel like you're trying to see the best in him even now?"
"Because I am," I answer. "I guess that's just part of my nature."
"Admirable."
"Maybe. Gets me into trouble, though. Case in point—every time I got too assertive, in everyday life and especially in the bedroom department, he got more and more irritated by it.
I noticed it and made up excuses. Tried to bite my tongue more instead of saying that stuff. Tried to defer to him more."
Killian's brow furrows. "I don't like that. You're a badass, Story. Badasses defer to no one."