Chapter 2
Shelley
My stomach drops straight through my feet.
No.
No no no no no. This cannot be happening.
I sent that message to Jordan? Not Josephine Wilson? But Jordan Freaking Wagner?
As in my professional baseball-playing brother’s best friend and teammate.
The guy Mike currently lives with, and the one on whom I’ve been secretly crushing since the first time we met.
That Jordan? The one with the great smile who makes the most intense eye contact I’ve ever experienced.
Jordan just heard me say out loud in my own voice that I can’t climax.
Plus, now he knows I need to see a psychiatrist on a regular basis.
Awesome.
Me: Sorry. I can’t respond to you right now because my soul left my body and I have expired.
Jordan: OK. R.I.P. But it’s sad knowing you’re gone before you ever really lived.
Me: OMG. Stop. Can we please pretend this never happened?
My phone rings. It’s him. Great. Just what I need today.
“So much for pretending,” I answer.
“If that’s what you want, that’s fine. But before I let it go, I feel a responsibility to say you don’t need to be embarrassed about this.”
I scoff. “Okay, great. Let me just switch off my human emotions tap, since you’re the one deciding how I feel now.
Turn the embarrassment off, you say? Perfect.
All better now. Why didn’t I think of that?
” Do I feel a little bit bad about snapping at him?
Sure. But he still doesn’t get to tell me how to react.
“Sorry. I only meant you’re probably not the problem in this scenario.”
I scoff again, harder this time. If there were any weight to that theory, the Petal Pulverizer would have proven itself more effective, and I’d be blissed out and sinking into a three-hour nap instead of having this conversation or considering injections.
“Maybe your partner just doesn’t know what they’re doing?” he offers.
Can someone please tell me where men get their audacity? They seem to buy it in bulk.
“Not helping. Also, that assumes there is a partner,” I counter.
There’s a smile behind the words when he says, “Fair point, Counselor. I see why they let you into law school.”
I should not be talking to my brother’s friend about this.
He’s not a doctor. He’s the starting first baseman for the North Bay Blue Crabs, the minor league team in a tiny little waterfront town in the Northern Neck of Virginia.
Outside of the few times I visited Mike and Jordan was nice to me, we hardly know each other.
So what if he’s tall, kind of funny, and seems to be trying to be sweet in a misguided, but well-meaning sort of way?
None of that gives him the right to weigh in on my sex life.
Or lack thereof. I clearly did not invite him into this discussion on purpose.
There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “Do you want to know what I think?”
Is he for real? “Here we go. Let me guess what happens next. This is the part where you offer to snake my drain and fix all my problems, right?”
I don’t care if Mike will be mad if I’m rude to his friend. After the day I’ve had, I’m fresh out of tolerance for bros who offer up their bodies like the obvious solution. If Jordan’s going to be one of them, then my brother’s best friend is about to get his ass handed to him.
Every guy I’ve dated since I started college has been convinced he’ll be the one with the magic wand and the ability to solve the calculus problem between my legs.
They’re always wrong. But because this is Jordan, and maybe I’ve always harbored a small, tiny, minuscule crush on him, now I’m also a little bit curious.
But mostly insulted. What does he think he knows that I haven’t been able to figure out about my own body with a team of doctors?
He laughs, interrupting my thoughts. “No thanks. Also? Knowing you’ve been hanging out with guys who say things like ‘snake your drain’ only confirms my theory.”
“It wasn’t an invitation,” I grind out.
Apparently, this can get more embarrassing. That was a pretty swift rejection, not that I blame him for setting boundaries. I’m the one who asked, and also the one accidentally dragging him into this.
Still, my ego is thankful when he’s quick to clarify, “Nothing against you. I don’t hook up during the season anyway, but even if I did, your brother would kick my ass just for having this conversation.
Teammates’ sisters are off-limits. But if the doctors don’t see a reason, I’m just saying, you’re probably overthinking this. ”
I bristle at the accusation, even though it’s the same thing multiple medical professionals have told me.
The no sex thing on his part is new information.
Look at us learning all kinds of new stuff about each other today.
Although, I’m not exactly surprised he has a quirk about stuff interfering with his baseball season.
From what Mikey’s told me, I already know Jordan, like a lot of other athletes, is superstitious about not shaving and following strict routines.
Only now he seems to be admitting a razor isn’t the only thing he hasn’t touched since spring training started. Interesting.
But he’s also not wrong. We shouldn’t go there.
“I get it. Although, the future attorney in me feels compelled to point out Mike isn’t your teammate anymore, so the sisters rule no longer applies. Anyway, we can go straight to the pretending this didn’t happen now.”
My brother has been recruited by the new Virginia Foxhounds team.
He’s moving up to the major league, so technically they are no longer teammates.
But Jordan is also my brother’s best man, which probably means the bro code is still in effect, and definitely means we’ll be seeing each other at the wedding soon.
As if we needed a way to make this whole situation even more uncomfortable.
Hopefully we can put this little glitch of a conversation behind us by then.
I can hear the smirk in his voice. “The Keep-Hands-Off-Sisters Policy has no expiration date. But like I said, don’t be embarrassed about the voicemail. It’s not a big deal. We’re cool.”
“I’m trying.” I sigh. “Thanks for not being a jerk about the whole thing.”
“Literally the very least I can do.”
Maybe he has a point. The bar is on the ground if I’m thanking a guy just for not being a jerk. I need to raise my standards.
“Okay, true. But I still appreciate it. And I’m sorry I snapped at you. It was actually nice of you to try to make me feel better,” I reluctantly admit.
“Did it work?”
“Maybe a little.” A tiny smile forms on my face. “Thanks.”
“Sure. Have a good night.”
“Hey, Jordan?” I chew on my bottom lip for a few seconds while a dangerous new idea plants itself in my mind.
“Yeah?”
I don’t know if I should say what I want to ask.
I’m sure it crosses several lines, but it’s been hard to get a guy’s perspective on this issue.
It’s not like I can ask Mike or our dad for advice here.
And every time I try to broach the subject with someone I date, they immediately want to hop into bed with me and prove themselves.
I know Jordan won’t do that. He’s already made it abundantly clear he doesn’t want me.
While the thought stings my pride a bit, it also makes him a neutral sounding board.
This is the first time I’ve been able to talk to a man I trust and know he’s not going to try to get in my pants as soon as I mention it.
Here goes nothing.
“Believe it or not, it did help to hear you say that stuff. Sorry if this is too much. Feel free to say no, but for my own sanity I need to ask you something.”
“Okay…”
I take a deep breath and launch into my proposal.
“Do you think you’d be open to talking to me more about things like this sometime?
From a completely platonic male friend perspective?
Platonic being the key word.” He’s quiet on the other end of the line, so I continue rambling.
“I swear I’m not asking you to get horizontal with me.
I’m just realizing I really do need to talk about this with someone who’s not related to me.
My sisters do what they can, but it’s not the same. Not like it would be with you.”
Somebody needs to take this phone away from me. Seriously.
Eventually, he speaks. “I really should say no to that.”
It doesn’t escape me that he didn’t.
“But?”
I wrap my blanket around my shoulders and put him on speakerphone, so his smooth, deep voice fills my room.
“Shelley. Look, I don’t know how appropriate it is to talk to you about this. I’m a lot older than you, and you’re still my buddy’s little sister. I do consider you a friend, but I’m not trying to do anything that comes between you and Mike or screws up my own friendship with your brother.”
“You won’t,” I protest. “I’m only looking for someone I can trust to be honest with me and not get creepy.”
He blows out a long breath. “I can promise I’m not going to initiate any more conversations about this.
At all. So, if after this conversation you still want to pretend tonight never happened, we can do that.
No hard feelings.” I hear him shift his body.
“All kidding aside, I’m sure it took a lot of courage for you to ask, and your first message sounded kind of serious.
That’s why I called you in the first place.
If you’re looking into professional help, then this is obviously a real issue for you.
I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do, but if you have questions and you think I can offer any insight, I’ll answer you. Okay? That’s the best I can do.”
His measured, thoughtful response is somehow both incredibly frustrating and exactly what I needed to hear, even though the words are still mostly a rejection.
I wonder if he would give the same careful answer to any other friend.
Is he only hesitating because he knows my brother?
Jordan isn’t really much older than I am, I think he’s only twenty-eight.
A six-year age gap is hardly scandalous when both parties are fully grown.
But I do appreciate him trying to do the right thing, even if his sense of loyalty to Mike is a little misguided and outdated.
At least he’s willing to be a sounding board, and a guy friend I can be real with sounds like it could be exactly what I need.
“Sounds fair. Thanks.”
“Sure. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Like I’m going to be able to get any sleep now.