Why was that such a bad thing?
“You’re thinking,” Camilla said.
“Yes, I am,” I said.
“What are you thinking about?”
“The scenario surrounding my first time.”
“I knew it! You’re considering it. Tell Mama Camilla the fantasy. Set it up for me. I want to picture it.”
She closed her eyes and propped her chin up on her hands, her elbows on the edge of the table.
“I want candlelight and rose petals.”
“Oh, romance. That’s always a nice start,” she said.
“I want soft conversation and a bit of laughter. Lounging back on a bed with a glass of wine or something. I want it to be dark, nighttime—with moonlight pouring through the curtains. Maybe a nice hotel room with a honeymoon suite option.
“I want him to reach over and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I want him to gaze into my eyes and tell me how beautiful he thinks I am, how smart and wonderful I am to him, how lucky he is to be with me.”
I closed my eyes.
“I want his first kiss to be delicate, soft, like he’s waiting for my approval. I want it to be slow, deft. I want soft kisses on my skin and my clothes delicately removed. I want him to tell me how beautiful he thinks I am, how special he wants to make things. I want him to go slow, to understand the pain he’ll put me through.”
Tears rushed my eyes as I fluttered them back open to find Camilla staring at me with tears in her own eyes. She reached over and grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together as two slices of cake were set before us—two delicious slices of chocolate cake that went completely unnoticed as she read my thoughts.
“He was a jerk, Ava. Michael was an absolute jerk,” she said.
“I know we dated for a few months, but I never felt comfortable. He always felt entitled to it, Camilla, like he owned it because I was his girlfriend. But it was never his. It was always mine. I guard it closely because I know what it feels like to have a man think he owns you.”
“I’m going to kill him. You know that, right?”
“He’s not worth it. It was over a year ago. But I carry that weight with me because I want my first time to be right. It’s something I want to give to the right person because it seems right, not because someone feels entitled to it.”
Camilla nodded as she slid her thumb across the skin of my hand.
“Then we’ll find you someone,” she said.
“Camilla—”
“On your own time, I know. But I think Michael has more of a hold on you than you realize. You’re not just scared of the pain, Ava. You’re scared of it not meaning anything, and it was Michael who implanted that idea in you. You’re holding yourself back from experiencing it because he still has a hold on you. That is just as unhealthy.”
“You know, when you’re not being immature as hell, you really do have some wise advice,” I said.
“On your time, I promise, but I think this has less to do with the pain and more to do with Michael. Don’t let him hold you back from something as beautiful as sex. It can bring an entirely different dimension into your world that you can’t unlock yourself. There’s no orgasm like the one a man can give you. Not because he’s superior, but because our bodies were made to be with one.”
I nodded as I pulled my hand away from hers.
“I’ll think about it, okay?” I said.
“Good. And in the meantime, we can devour this chocolate cake, because God Almighty, it looks delicious.”
Logan
“Hey there, man.”
“I was wondering when the hell you’d show up,” Hunter said.
My best friend stood and clapped me on the back. It had been weeks since the two of us had been able to carve out some time to get drinks together. I settled down in the chair at the table he had reserved for us, then glanced at the empty chair Camilla should have been sitting in.
“Where’s the lady friend? I thought she was coming out tonight,” Hunter said.
“Another late night at work,” I said.
“That woman works way too hard for a bartender at a strip joint.”
“Well, they did just promote her to assistant manager of both the bar and the activities during the shows, so it doesn’t shock me that she’s spending more time there than usual.”
“Does that promotion come with a pay raise? Or the option to dance?”
“Hey. That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” I said.
“And let me be real, we’ve been to her place of work a few times. You’ve seen how she eyes those dancers, and I’m not entirely sure she’s eyeing them for play. I think she wants to be up there dancing. And you know she’s got the body to—”