I blinked slowly several times. Shocked. Speechless. “Uh … has this happened to you?”
He rolled his eyes and took the tray from me. “Yes. Yes, it has.”
Again, I skittered on his heels, desperate for more information. How many virgins had he deflowered? When did he retire from his deflowering job? Did the naked fisherman have virgin phobia? But the most pressing question was … why was I so eager to give him my virginity? Sex wasn’t special to him. He wasn’t going to declare his love for me to the world after bad, de-virgining sex.
No rings.
No proposals in the sky.
No “Here Comes the Bride.”
“This is super informal. Just grab your food. There’s more sangria in the pitcher.” Rory turned on music. Jazz. Then she flipped on the globe lights.
I didn’t want the globe lights on with Tiffany there. Those were lights for me and Fisher.
“Oh my gosh … I love the lights!” Tiffany’s eyes widened for a second before she sat with her plate of food on the sofa right next to Fisher. She might as well have sat onto his lap.
My monkey brain spun in circles like an out of control tilt a whirl. She wasn’t a virgin. No “bad sex” with her. No deflowering dilemma.
Fisher leaned over and tapped my plate with his fork, startling me from my self-destructive trance.
“You’re not eating. Are you good?”
Tiffany watched with minimal concern as Fisher’s question seemed benign to everyone else.
Are you good?
I let my gaze remain locked to his for a few seconds. I thought of how I felt when he zip-tied me to the stool, when he said those words “you know the answer to that.”
Tiffany thought she was on another date. She flirted with him. She sat right next to him. And I couldn’t blame her one bit for finding him irresistible. But … he was mine.
“I’m good.” I smiled.
He rewarded me with a wink. And anyone else could have seen it, and maybe someone did. But he didn’t care, and I loved him for it.
After dinner, Rory made a comment about her menstrual cycle.
Rose and Tiffany laughed, eyeing Fisher.
He shook his head and sipped another glass of sangria.
“This is important stuff, Fisher.” Rory grinned. “Your wife will thank me someday for enlightening you on the matter.”
“She’ll thank you for me knowing when it’s time to leave the room.” He stood. “Like now. I’ll just tidy up the kitchen. Have fun with your discussion.” He grabbed the empty plates and left the overabundance of estrogen on the porch.
I spent the next twenty minutes listening to Rory and Rose discuss perimenopause. Tiffany was too young to add much to the conversation, but she still laughed and pretended to know.
My ability to pretend ran out five minutes after Fisher left. I could no longer see him in the kitchen. The dishes were clean, but I didn’t see him leave.
“Anyone else need anything? I’m going to use the bathroom and get some water,” I interrupted.
They shook their heads, mumbling, “We’re good, thanks.”
It was a quarter to nine on a Sunday night. Didn’t they have jobs in the morning?
After I peed, I decided to sneak upstairs to see if Fisher was there, but I didn’t make it past the doorway to my bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I asked Fisher, who was sitting on the floor at the end of the bed.
Taking a few more steps in the room and shutting the door behind me, I saw exactly what he was doing.
Solving my crossword puzzles.
I would have been upset had he not been using a pencil.
“Do you like crossword puzzles?” I asked, plopping onto the bed, on my belly with my head next to his. I rested my chin on his shoulder and watched him focus on one of my hardest puzzles.
“I like them better than talking about menstrual cycles.”
I giggled. He turned his head just enough to grin at me and press a short kiss to my lips. Then he returned his attention to the puzzle.
“You’re not going to get fourteen across.”
“Gulping in haste,” he whispered the clue.
I smirked, knowing he’d never ever get it.
Five letters.
Second letter was E.
Last letter was Z.
“Move on to the next one.” I bit his earlobe and tugged it. “You’re going to break your brain trying to figure it out.”
“Zip it,” he said, and it made me giggle more.
I kissed along his neck, and he cocked his head to the side, giving me better access.
“Xertz,” he said, filling in the missing letters.
I jerked my head straight. “How did you get that? You cheated. You used your phone.”
Fisher tossed the puzzle and pencil aside before reaching back and grabbing me, pulling me onto the floor.
“Fish—”
“Shh …” He covered my mouth with his hand while kissing my neck.
I quieted. His hand slid away from my mouth and his lips replaced it. He rolled us so that I was on top of him, my hair in his face, his hands on my butt, my hands on either side of his head.