Chapter 7

SEVEN

Anders

I’m so startled it takes a minute for her words to really sink in.

On one hand, it’s so ridiculous, it seems like it can’t be true.

On the other, I can’t even begin to imagine her pain and confusion in the moment.

“We tried to do the deed for hours,” she continues, staring straight ahead without looking at me. “It hurt so much, and he couldn’t get in. There was tearing, and bleeding, and cursing, and crying…And finally, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I told him to stop.”

“Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“He wasn’t mad at first, he figured we could rest and try again. So we did. And it was just more of the same. I couldn’t figure out why it hurt so much. I have girlfriends and I did my research online, so it made no sense. I was determined to make it happen, no matter how bad the pain was, but then I started bleeding. A lot. At that point, I was done. He left in a huff, and I figured I’d done something wrong. I didn’t know that there was such a thing as a microperforate hymen. Which means it grew bigger and thicker than normal and only has a tiny opening, so that a penis couldn’t get in there. Mine was so thick that while a normal hymen tears or just opens up—and some women don’t even have one—mine refused to budge.”

“Did you go to the doctor?”

“Not at first. I was pretty traumatized. Like, I was in love, and your first time is supposed to be romantic and special. And on top of how embarrassing the whole thing was, Seth dumped me. He acted like I was faking it and if I would have just relaxed, it would’ve been okay.”

“That’s not how anatomy works,” I say gently.

“Right. But I was so humiliated, it took me weeks before I finally told Hana the details of what happened. She knew right away that didn’t sound normal, so she made me go to the doctor. And thank goodness she did. I had to have something called a hymenectomy—which means they removed it with surgery.”

“Jesus.” I shake my head. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. That’s rare, isn’t it?”

“Very. Leave it to me to be some kind of sexual anomaly.”

“And now?”

“From a medical standpoint, everything is healed and sex should be fine. Mentally and emotionally, well, that’s something else altogether.”

“So there’s no physical reason why you can’t have sex?”

“Right. But mentally, just the thought of someone putting anything in there almost gives me a panic attack.”

“I’m genuinely sorry.” I squeeze her hand. “That sounds awful. And also, fuck Seth Crandall.”

She giggles. “Well, or not fuck him, in my case.”

“It didn’t occur to him that what happened wasn’t normal? That there was something else going on? Even if he was inexperienced too—and it sounds like he was—wouldn’t common sense kick in? He was a student at MIT. He had to have at least a little bit of general biology knowledge.”

“I was really nervous about doing it, and I made him wait months, so he assumed it was me tensing up.”

“I’m no doctor, but I don’t think a vagina can be quite that tense.”

“I didn’t know any better until I saw the doctor, so I thought it was me too, which is why it took me weeks to tell Hana what happened. I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t helped me navigate the medical part of it all. Unfortunately, the emotional part has been ongoing.”

“And you’ve never gone out on another date?”

“A few, but not the kind that could potentially lead to sex. And since I’m not interested in sex, it becomes a bit of a conundrum.”

“What about kissing?” I ask softly, slowing to a stop and turning, so that we’re facing each other.

“What about it?” She looks mildly confused.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you? I feel like that kind of story should end on a high note. And I promise, there will be no pain or discomfort with kissing. I’ll even keep my hands above the waist.”

She doesn’t react for a beat, merely staring up at me as if this is some kind of momentous decision.

“Maybe I’m not good at that either,” she whispers.

“Leave that to me, yeah?” I put one hand on the side of her face, gently moving my thumb back and forth along the soft skin. She told me she’s twenty-four, so she’s not an innocent girl. She’s a woman. Maybe not very experienced with men, but she’s not a child. And my gut tells me I’m the kind of man she needs to get her past this.

Sure, I’d like nothing more than to make love to her.

Hear her scream my name, watch her come all over my face, do all the dirty things I enjoy. Things I know she’ll enjoy too if only she’ll give them a chance.

But I’ll be happy to know I’ve helped her get past even some of her fears.

I lower my head and softly press my lips to hers.

I keep it simple. Gentle. Let her get used to the feel of my mouth on hers.

And fuck, she’s sweet.

Tentative, but sweet.

I wrap one arm around her waist and pull her closer, so our bodies are barely touching but there’s enough contact for her to get a sense of the attraction between us. I don’t want to scare her away, but I do want her to feel our connection. It’s there, simmering just beneath the surface. I saw it in her eyes all day, every time we were close. Now I have to get her to trust me.

I’m not sure why I’m suddenly invested in this—in her—but it feels right. Important. Like something only I can do.

I might try to unpack why I feel this way later.

Right now I have a beautifully inexperienced woman in my arms and she’s letting me kiss her.

We’ve still got our mouths closed, but she’s relaxed and her lips are slightly parted.

She may think she’s asexual, but I’m positive she’s not.

She’s probably not even aware that her nipples are hard. That her breath is coming a little faster than before. That her fingers are digging into my arms, her nails pinpricks of pain against my skin.

I use my tongue to gently trace the seam of her lips, letting her set the pace. I’ll know when she’s ready for me to slide my tongue against hers, deepen the kiss, show her how good I can make her feel.

The wind picks up, whipping her hair around our faces, and we momentarily pull apart.

I use one hand to catch most of her hair in my fist, and gently close it around the silky strands. Then I lower my mouth back to hers and this time she meets me halfway. When I slip my tongue between her parted lips, hers brushes against mine. So timid, it almost breaks my heart a little.

Wrapping my arm a little tighter around her waist, I pull her fully against my chest and curl my tongue around hers. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Being too tentative is probably just as much of a deterrent as being too forceful. It’s a delicate balance, and for some reason, it turns me on much more quickly than normal. We’re just kissing, and yet my dick is wide awake and ready for more.

Bad, penis.

Sit the hell down.

You’re not seeing any action tonight.

Yeah, that train of thought is helpful.

Not.

A soft sigh escapes her as we pull apart and I gaze down at her.

“Okay?” I ask.

“Oh. Yes. Very okay.”

“I can kiss you longer?”

“Please.”

I cover her mouth more forcefully this time, and we kiss in time to the sound of tiny explosions, our mouths fusing together as the fireworks go off over our heads.

It ends too soon, in my opinion, and by the time we pull apart the second time, there’s no mistaking the raw desire in her eyes.

Good.

Just what I was hoping for.

I’m not taking her to bed tonight, but hopefully before the end of the week.

“We should walk back to the others,” I say, realizing how far down the beach we’ve wandered.

“We’ll need to help pack up,” she agrees.

“Thank you for trusting me with that story,” I say softly. “I mean it. It’s important for me to know.”

“And if we spend the day together on Monday?”

“I hope you’ll enjoy yourself and allow me to kiss you again.”

“Anders. Don’t be obtuse. We’re adults and we’re supposed to communicate, remember?”

“I would be a liar if I said I didn’t want to make love to you. But I’m not some horny teen who needs to guilt or shame you into doing something you’re not comfortable doing. If it happens, I promise you it will be amazing and there will be no tears, no pain, nothing like that. If nothing happens, that’s okay too. There is no universe where I leave in a huff or get upset. At any point, no matter what we’re doing, you can say no. Okay?” I wait, because this might be the most important conversation we ever have.

I’m not sure, because it’s dark and windy, but I could swear her eyes get a little teary.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“And Claudia?”

“Yes. To address your earlier concern, let me dispel that notion for you—you’re very good at kissing.”