Flock (The Ravenhood)

“Sean?”

“Yeah?” Distracted with his task, he kneels on the blanket, opening the first container. The crickets sing loudly around us and I take in the scene, the gnawing to ask growing at the setting, the sounds around us, a romance addict’s fantasy. I’ve had so many firsts with Sean—at twenty-five, adventurous as he is—I’m sure I would be hard-pressed to give him one of his own. And that’s some of where my hesitance lies, with the question I don’t want to ask because I know how it will sound. I slip off my shoes and socks and run my feet in the cool grass, deciding it’s best left alone for the moment.

“Cecelia.”

“Yeah?”

“You had a question?”

“I forgot it.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“You don’t want me to ask it.”

He looks at me expectantly. “All right, now I have to know.”

“How did Dominic know about the waterfall?”

He exhales, putting his hands on his knees, before peering up at me with guilty eyes. “Your real question is, how many girls have I taken there, right?”

“Is that like the place you take all women?”

He shakes his head slowly. “It’s a place I love, that I will often frequent with any company. It’s kind of slim pickings around here at times, like there are only a few restaurants in town worth a shit. This is a small town. If you stay in one place long enough, you’re bound to have repeats.”

“Repeats,” I parrot, sipping my iced tea.

He eyes me warily. “Shit, bad choice of words. Look,” he moves to sit and draws up his knees, his toned forearms resting on them. “No, you aren’t the first or second girl I’ve taken there.”

Suspicions confirmed, I try to hide my disappointment. “Thanks for the truth. I guess that day was special to me, that’s all.”

He chucks my chin. “Then let it be. You think I was thinking about the last girl I was with when I had you underneath me? Fuck no. And I like that you’re jealous.”

“Eww,” I prop up to my elbows and drop my head back dramatically. “I guess sometimes I make it obvious you’re dating a teenager.”

“Jealousy isn’t limited or nullified by age, babe. And you’ve been hurt. You’ve told me you have from the start. You’re being cautious. You don’t want to be fucked over again. Nothing wrong with that. I get it. And I’m not mad you asked about it.”

“Do you get mad?”

“Yes,” he says softly, so softly, it’s scary, “and it’s not something you want to see.”

“Oooooh,” I turn on my stomach, kicking my feet into motion behind me. “Do tell. Were you an angry child?”

“No, I was more like ‘Tarzan with Chimpanzee rip your arm off if you fuck with me’ tendencies.”

I laugh. “I believe it.”

“I did get into a lot of fights.”

“Why?”

“Because I was a little asshole.”

“So, what’s changed?”

“Cute. I was going to share my banana pudding, but…”

“Hey, I’m sorry. You haven’t given me many reasons not to trust you.”