“I knew it!” she crowed. “You lost your virginity!”
So, as I repaired what I could to a wound that was pretty awful, for a used-to-be neighbor that was so annoying that I almost felt nothing as I worked, I told my best friend every sordid detail.
Only, I left out the part about who it happened with—my worst enemy.
Hell, she was still trying to get the information out of me two hours later at lunch.
“Seriously,” she pushed after we picked up our order. “Just give me a hint. Tell me what color his hair is.”
I downed the rest of my Coca-Cola, picked up a tater tot off the plate, then stood up and tried not to waddle away as I went for a refill.
It was impossible.
The longer the day went on, the sorer I got.
I’d read an article during high school that when you worked out, day three and four post workout were the worst because those were the days that your muscles started to repair themselves.
Meaning that today, though I might be sore, it wouldn’t be half as bad as two days from now.
“Are you going to stand there all day contemplating what you’re going to get to drink when we both know you’ll decide to get a Coca-Cola, or should I just go around you?” an amused, not so nice voice asked from behind me.
I’d been contemplating getting a Coca-Cola, but now I was thinking that I needed to get a Dr. Pepper based on the sheer gall of the man behind me.
I couldn’t let him know that he was right.
I also hated the way the delicious shiver ran down my body at hearing his words.
Clamping down on my out of control libido, I reached forward and started to press my cup underneath the Dr. Pepper, then decided to move it to the Coke. There was no reason in hell I should allow him to dictate what I should drink.
Anyway, he was right. Fuck him.
Filling my Coke up while listening to his darkly arousing chuckle behind me, I turned around and glared.
“Why are you so close to me?” I hissed. “There are these things called personal boundaries. They’re things that society uses so you don’t come off as a creeper to ladies.”
Ezekiel’s eyes were amused despite my words.
“I’m close to you because there’s a line behind me and only so much room for said line,” he pointed out.
There wasn’t a line. There were three old men standing there talking because it was a convenient place to stand and not be completely in the way of everything.
“Whatever,” I muttered. “Move.”
Even all these years later, the man never missed an opportunity to give me shit.
Zee stepped aside, then waved his hand out in front of himself in a sweeping gesture with a flourish. “After you, ma’am.”
I gave him my best glare as I passed and tried not to limp or show that my vagina felt raw and split in two—it really did hurt. Like seriously. I had no clue that the act of sex would be so painful.
Maybe that’s because, of what you can remember, Zee is hung like a horse and things that size aren’t meant to go inside the standard female orifices, my inner mind said.
I didn’t succeed.
He noticed the hesitancy in my step almost immediately, and his eyes lit.
He didn’t say anything, though. Instead, he just watched me walk away.
I felt his eyes on me the entire way to the table.
And, unable to do anything else, I sat gingerly in my seat knowing damn well and good Zee’s eyes were settled on me.
“That guy over there was the cop that pulled me over,” Turner said as soon as I sat down.
My eyes drifted over to the table that Turner had just gestured to with a tilt of her head, and I turned to survey the ‘cop.’
The cop was Castiel, and my lips twitched.
“That’s Castiel,” I said. “And don’t bother fighting the ticket. He’s one of those cops that’s a stickler for the rules.”
“He looks like he would suck in bed,” Turner muttered darkly.
I doubted that.
Castiel was a nice guy, despite his need for law and order, but he also struck me as wild. I’d bet he was uninhibited in bed.
“Okay, run through the night again for me,” she pushed.
I sighed and closed my eyes, remembering what I could of that night.
“I don’t remember much,” I said softly. “I got to drinking at Boone’s Bar, and from there, I remember only bits and pieces.”
“You remember the good bits and pieces, though,” she jeered. “You told me that his penis was large and in charge.”
His penis was on the bigger side of normal. In fact, I’d never met a person or a penis, larger and more in charge.
“It was,” I admitted, stacking one fist on top of the other. “I could grip him with two of my fists and there was still room to spare.”