The Boy and His Ribbon (The Ribbon Duet, #1)(76)

A few minutes passed while she read the book, flicking a few pages to more graphic images of a man on top of a woman and her hands on his ass.

My own body reacted, and I unwrapped my arm from around Della, putting some distance between us.

She didn’t notice, far too absorbed in her new friend.

“Ah! It’s not squirms, it’s sperms!” She tapped a line of text that looked like gibberish. “See, here? Men have sperms, and they swim like tadpoles up a woman’s something after he’s been on top of her.”

“Awesome.” I strangled, standing up and pacing again, anything to stop the sudden shyness about discussing this sort of stuff with her.

“Ren?”

I stopped, daring to look at her. “Yeah…?”

“What is so great about kissing Cassie?”

I swiped a hand over my face. “I’m sure the book will cover that.”

“I want to know from you.” She bit her lip again, worry and unease painting her pretty face. “Please?”

“Ugh, okay.” I could never refuse her anything when she said that word. “Kissing is…nice.” I did my best to conjure how I felt when Cassie had her tongue in my mouth. “It’s different to normal kissing. It looks gross, but it feels warm and…comforting. And sometimes, my eh…”

God, I couldn’t say that.

I couldn’t admit that kissing made me hard and her wet and was the perfect prelude to sex. That would be too much, and I literally choked on the words. “Yeah, it’s…nice. That’s all you need to know.”

“Would you show me?”

“No!” I stumbled backward. “That wouldn’t be appropriate, Della Ribbon.”

“Why not?”

“Because…kissing that way isn’t done with family. It’s done with a mate…a lover.”

“Oh.” Her spine rolled then straightened as she said, “Think Liam could show me?”

My temper fired back into full heat. “If you ever go near Liam naked again, I’ll tie you to a tree and never let you come down.”

She giggled. “I like trees.”

“Believe me, you wouldn’t like this one. I’d make sure to find a wasp’s nest and put it up there with you. They’d sting you every time you thought about kissing someone.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Just try me and you’ll see how deadly serious I am about you never being naked with another boy again.”

She pouted. “You’re mean. Why are you allowed to get naked with Cassie, and I’m not allowed with Liam.”

“Because I’m older.”

“So when I’m older, I can?”

“No.”

“But you said—”

“Never mind what I said.” Prowling toward her, I tapped the pornographic educational book. “Read this. It has all the answers.”

She eyed me before finally nodding and turning her inquisitive gaze back to the pages.

For the next few hours, I sat in the chair in the corner, clutching the handles with white knuckles, and instead of telling Della about sex and kissing and everything in between, she told me.

She read the words she knew and stumbled over those she didn’t.

She dashed across the driveway to see Patricia and came back armed with terms like Fallopian tubes and ovaries and clitoris.

And it was to my utmost mortification that she became the teacher on a subject she’d begged to be a student in.

A student who must never know she’d far exceeded the capacities of the boy who said he’d teach her everything.

The boy who now knew absolutely nothing.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN


REN



2009





ANOTHER YEAR, another autumn, winter, spring, and summer.

Della and I celebrated our joint birthday where she turned nine and I turned nineteen. The day was simple and sweet, and we exchanged gifts that cost no more than ten dollars thanks to John giving me some cash from my salary instead of pre-empting what Della would need and spending on my behalf.

For the past year, Cassie had been dating a twenty-four-year-old mechanic who’d attended family dinners and been grudgingly approved of by her parents. She still hung out with Della, and they’d even gone to a local show jumping competition with Della riding Domino and Cassie riding HeatWave, earning a bunch of ribbons in the process.

Our lives had settled into the routine of living across the driveway from each other, and things couldn’t be better.

The itch to leave still came with the warmer weather and shorter nights, but now, instead of leaving to search for better things, I had things I’d miss by going.

I’d miss Patricia Wilson’s amazing lasagne and raspberry torte.

I’d miss John’s steady guidance and unjudging leniency.

I’d miss Cassie’s secret smiles and ability to make me mad and happy in the same sentence.

And I’d even miss Liam, even though I’d never truly forgiven him for what happened between him and Della.

Life marched onward.

One more year and I’d leave my teenage years behind.

And I was still a virgin.

These days, it wasn’t because of my unreadiness or fear that Della would catch me or even the fact that Cassie was in a long-term relationship—I’d met some of her friends when they’d come round for dinners and two of them blatantly said the offer was always open for a booty call—whatever the hell that was.