Calmly, Carefully, Completely(19)

“Anything is better with chocolate,” I say. My mom used to say that. I don’t know why I felt the need to make that comment out loud.

“True.” She doesn’t speak.

We’re quiet, the crackling flames the only sound aside from crickets and the occasional kid crying out to ask caregivers questions. Before, when I was with girls, it was all about trying to get them out of their clothes. It’s been two years since a woman has taken me inside her, and right this second, I can’t imagine enjoying that any more than what I’m doing right now.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable asking for a kiss,” I finally say.

She snorts. “At least you asked.”

“Glad you like that because I might keep asking until I get one.” She laughs as she shakes her head.

“You promised Gonzo you’d only put the moves on me when he’s around.”

“Let’s go wake him up, then.” I make like I’m going to get up, and she reaches for my hand to stop me. I feel that tremble again. I sit down, but this time, I’m a little closer to her.

She’s quiet for a moment. “This is nice,” she says.

I reach up to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, and she flinches. “Do I scare you?” I ask. I did just get out of prison. But it’s more than that, I’m sure. With what happened to her, she probably has a lot of intense shit in her head.

She shakes her head. “No. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

She picks up a stick and starts to draw in the dirt, her arm clenched around her knees until she’s folded into a ball.

She looks up, her green eyes bright in the firelight. “I just don’t like to be touched.” She shrugs. “That’s all.”

“Can we work to get around that, princess?” It comes out more like a whisper.

Her eyes fill up with tears, and she blinks them back furiously. I want to touch her, but I have a feeling that would be the wrong thing to do.

“It’s me,” she says. “Not you.” She waits a beat. “I’m sure you’re a perfectly amazing kisser. And I’m missing out on one of the best experiences ever.” She lays a hand on her chest. She’s teasing me now. This is better than a moment before. It’s easier to deal with. But I almost long for the quiet, emotion-filled whispers. “You’ve kissed a lot of women?” she asks.

Ouch. I’m sure she doesn’t want the truth. “A few.”

“A few hundred? A few thousand?” She laughs. It’s a tinny, hollow sound.

“A few,” I repeat.

“Does it get more common feeling after a while? Like your heart stops feeling like it’s going to beat out of your chest after you’ve done it a few thousand times?”

I chuckle. “Not if you’re doing it right.” I adjust my body, hunching over my lap a little. Her whispered words and heat-filled glances are affecting me, and I’ll be damned if I want her to see it. “You feel like yours is going to beat out of our chest when you kiss a man?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Then why are you asking?” I ask.

“I feel like that now,” she says. She gets up, and I want to grab her and pull her to me. “I had better get to bed.” She stretches, and I can see the little strip of skin between the bottom of her shirt and her jeans. I reach up and tug her shirt down. She covers her belly with her hand, like she wants to block my touch.

She stares into my eyes. She doesn’t say a word. “Can I kiss you yet?” I blurt out. God, you’d think I’d never seen a girl before.