I nod.
"Fuck, we're jumping into relationship fast."
I laugh. "True."
"Too much?"
"No." Not even a little too much.
He brushes my hair behind my ear. "Tell me the truth."
I thought you'd ask. There's no way you're okay with the past being the past. I really, really want to believe that, but I can't. "Yeah?"
"You love surfing."
Oh. "I do." It makes me feel alive and vibrant. A natural high. It makes sense now, why so many former addicts drive motorcycles or jump out of planes. The rush is everything. "Walker, I—"
"Don't tell me you're already backing out."
"No. Of course not. This is, um, part of being a girlfriend. Or whatever we're calling this."
"I like girlfriend."
"Yeah?"
He nods. "I've never been a boyfriend before."
"You're a virgin?"
He nods.
"Not even once in high school?"
"Not even once."
"Wow. I'm not sure I've ever popped a cherry before." I turn so I can look into his eyes. They're dark and beautiful and filled with trust.
Is it really okay keeping this secret?
Is he really okay with the past being the past?
* * *
We spend the afternoon jumping from coffee shop to lunch to coffee shop. We swing by his place to pick up clothes, then we go to mine. We fuck, shower, change.
I spend forever fixing my hair and makeup. It needs to be perfect. So his parents don't see the cracks in my story. So his sister believes I'm honest. So I see Iris the future psychologist and not Iris the fuck-up when I look in the mirror.
He slides his arms around my waist. Brushes his lips against my neck. He's in jeans and a button-up shirt. It suits him more than it should.
It's unfair how good he looks in everything.
"You ready to go?" He slides his hand over my hip.
"Not if you keep doing that."
He chuckles as he steps backward. "I can't help it. You're too fucking tempting."
My cheeks flush. I smooth my dress. Sway my hips as I spin on my heels to face him. "I'm wearing a thong."