Calmly, Carefully, Completely(61)

Her eyebrows draw together. “What?”

I laugh. “Nothing.” But now I can’t stop chuckling. She slaps my chest.

“It’s not funny unless more than one person is laughing.” She gets quiet for a minute, and then she says, “How many women have you slept with?”

I close my eyes and wince. “I stopped counting them a long time ago. When I ran out of fingers.”

“More than ten?” Her voice is small.

“Yeah,” I grunt. I don’t like my own answers so I can’t expect her to like them.

“More than your fingers and toes?” she asks.

“Probably,” I breathe out. “Hell, I don’t know.”

“Do you know their names?” She sits up in front of me and crosses her legs criss-cross-applesauce style. She tugs her dress down to cover her knees.

I sit up, too, so I can face her. I lay my hand on her knee and draw circles on it with my thumb. “Some of them.” I hold up one finger when she starts to ask me something else. “But there hasn’t been anyone in a really long time. Since before I got locked up.” I squint at her. “Does that count for anything?”

Her face softens, and she blows out a breath. “I wasn’t judging you, Pete. Just trying to get to get to know you.”

I nod, unable to look her in the eye. “Have you ever been in love?” she asks. She’s smiling at me, though, and this question seems more benign than the last.

Not until now. But I don’t say that, because if I do, I’ll scare her with the depth of my feelings. “Maybe,” I hedge.

“What does that mean?” she asks. “Maybe?” She narrows her eyes.

“I don’t know,” I say. I feel things for her that I have never felt for anyone. Is it love? I just don’t know. It’s too new to tell. I need some time to explore it before I have to explain it. “What about you?” I ask. “Have you ever been in love?”

She shakes her head. “No.” She grins.

“What?” I ask. I scrub at my nose. “Do I have a booger?”

She laughs. “No,” and she brushes my hand down. “I have never been in love.” Her green eyes dart around for a second and then land on me. “Would you know love if you found it?” she asks.

I tilt my head from side to side as if I’m weighing the heaviness of her words. “I think I would.”

She smiles. “Can I keep asking questions or am I getting on your nerves?” she asks.

“Ask me anything.” Honestly, I’ve been locked up for a really long time. Being in jail is lonely, and I need a connection. I want that connection with her. And only her. “But I get to ask you questions, too.”

“That’s fair,” she says. She’s thinking hard about her next question. “Our first kiss,” she whispers. “It was epic.”

“Yeah, it was,” I agree.

“Is it always that epic? With every girl you have been with?”

I scratch the back of my head. “Most girls don’t have an orgasm when I kiss them.” I laugh. “Is that what you want to know?”

She shakes her head. “No. I mean…” Her face colors. “I know it wasn’t epic for you, but it was pretty damn epic for me.”

I lean close and press my lips to hers because I just have to. “I know. I almost came in my pants just watching you.” I kiss her again, and she hums against my mouth. It’s a happy sound. But then she covers her face when I look her in the eye.