Read For The One Page 21


  "That was amazing," I breathed. "Thank you."

  A faint smile appeared on his lips, as if he was proud of himself, and I found that in spite of feeling sated, I really wanted to kiss him again. I wanted more of him. And now that he'd had a taste of what it could be like between us, and since I was already naked...

  I rose up on one elbow and caught his mouth with a kiss. "No fair you got to see me naked and I didn't get to see you. But you know...we don't have to be done here."

  He said nothing but returned my kisses with growing fervor. My hand slipped down over his crotch to, um, check the temperature, so to speak.

  He was hard again.

  "William," I said against his mouth, and he continued to kiss me. "I'm on birth control and I'm clean."

  The kiss ended when he pulled back. "Why wouldn't you be clean? You shower regularly."

  I grinned. "No, I mean I don't have any STDs. I get checked regularly. And since you've never...we won't have to worry about using a condom."

  "I have condoms." My brows shot up. Really... "But nothing's going to happen unless..."

  I fell back against the couch and looked up at him. He had a very determined look on his face, damn it.

  "Say you'll stay, Jenna."

  I licked my lips and remained silent. A niggling feeling of guilt rose up, causing me to question where the hell it had come from. When I spoke, my voice was barely above a whisper. "Life's too short to worry about things like commitment. We should just enjoy each other."

  "Is that what you're afraid of? Life being too short?"

  My eyes closed.

  "People you've cared about have died. So that's why you think about life being short. That's why you have to run off and experience everything you can. That's why you let fear drive you."

  Opening my eyes, I pushed against his chest, shoving him away from me. "Please get off," I said. "I'm no coward."

  He sat back and watched me as I grabbed my clothes and slipped them on. "You're right. You aren't."

  I blinked, suddenly feeling tears burning the backs of my eyes. He was closer to the truth than I'd ever admit in a million years. Life was short. People you loved died and left you all alone. I bit my lip and refused to allow those tears to escape.

  "Jenna..." I was about to get off the couch when he hooked a hand around my waist. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

  "But you did."

  He kissed my hair. "This is who I am. I say what's on my mind. I'm sorry."

  I fell against his hard chest and his other arm held me close to him. Everything inside me ached. I wanted to be with him so badly it literally hurt.

  And the scariest thing of all was that I was starting to seriously consider telling him I'd stay, seeing what this might become. But I had promises to keep--to others and to myself.

  If it became something, then my beliefs and everything I thought I knew about the world would go flying out the window. I'd be in unchartered territory. No map. No plan. Not even my cards to rely on.

  He was right. I was afraid. Terrified, in fact, of what this could become.

  Chapter 22

  William

  A few days later, my workday is interrupted by an unexpected text from Jenna. It's strange because I had just been thinking about her.

  Mia and Adam invited us to go to Medieval Times w/ them. Wanted to check to see if ok w/ you.

  I have never been there. From what I've gathered from advertising, it is a dinner and entertainment show involving knights and jousting--all with period-inaccurate armor and weapons.

  I know that it would probably be best to follow up our progress from Disneyland with a setting of this sort, but I really don't want to. I'd much prefer to spend time alone with Jenna again.

  But time alone would make for more frustrating circumstances like the other night--the night I really wanted to have sex and stopped it anyway.

  Sometimes I think I'm not so smart.

  Me: I don't know.

  Her: I'd love to see you again. And we could laugh @ the fake fighting. Might be fun & more importantly would help w/ crowd issues.

  Me: Inauthentic fighting annoys me.

  Her: I'll wear my low-cut medieval blouse & push-up bodice...

  Me: Deal.

  As the days pass until the next time I see her, I spend a lot of time thinking about my convictions. I'm seriously considering letting them go. I've thought a lot about what Adam said--and even what that fool Jordan said.

  So the next time Adam and I are alone together, I bring up the subject of sex and ask for more in-depth advice. I'm relieved that Jordan is nowhere near to interrupt with his plethora of condoms and bad advice.

  It's just my surrogate big brother and me.

  It's Wednesday night, and I'm working out in his home gym because he has weight machines that I don't have. He's choosing to use his treadmill instead of running out in the streets or along the beach, like he prefers. Afterward, we go up to his kitchen to take a water break and sit down. He pulls an apple from a nearby bowl of fruit, washes it and bites into it.

  "What's on your mind, guy?" he says without looking at me.

  I've been trying to figure out a way to ask, and he seems to have figured that out from how I'm acting. I envy that he can sense things based on my gestures and looks. I've seen that in his observation of others, too. We can be in the same room and both participate in a conversation, and yet afterward when we discuss it, he's come away with a long list of nuances and impressions that I have completely missed.

  I've long since been thankful to have Adam as an ally. He is incredibly smart and always has been. So am I, but he is smart in different ways than I am. We complement each other because of that.

  "I do want to talk to you about something," I say, confirming his inquiry. "But it might make you uncomfortable."

  Part of his mouth slants up in a smile. "Are you going to nag me about setting a wedding date again? Because we're on the same side. I know what I want. Emilia is the one who keeps hedging." As usual, he calls his fiance by her full name instead of Mia, like everyone else calls her.

  "I'm not nagging you about that. First, a nag is an old horse. I'm neither old nor a horse." Adam grimaces at my attempt at a joke, then unscrews his water bottle to take a drink.

  "I wanted to ask you about sex. I have a lot of questions, and the pornographic material I've been reviewing--"

  Adam starts choking on his water. Perhaps it was the mention of pornography. But how else can I learn about sex if not by watching people do it?

  "Do not use porn as educational material, Liam," Adam finally said, the redness in his face only deepening. "They do stuff in porn--even the vanilla stuff--that can't or shouldn't be attempted in real life."

  I scratch my stubble. "Vanilla? Porn comes in flavors?"

  "It means, um, regular sex. No kink. Anyway, a lot of what they do in porn videos is not real. There's a lot of acting involved, a lot of creative techniques. A lot of weird positions in order to maximize the camera angles."

  I nod, absorbing that. "I understand the mechanics of it all. And I get that it's easier for a man to achieve orgasm. But what I want to know is what it's like if one of the partners is far less experienced than the other. Like how do they treat that person's first time?"

  Adam took a breath and let it go, looking to the side. "Well, as long as each partner has some understanding of the other's sexual history--especially in a special case like that--"

  "What about your first time?" I interrupt. "Was she more experienced than you?"

  Adam blinks, his face reddening again. "Uh, yeah. She was older, and she'd had a few partners before me."

  "How much older?"

  "Six years," he answers, looking over his shoulder as if he's afraid someone might be listening in. We are alone though, since Mia is out with her mother tonight. Adam shifts in his seat and fiddles with his water bottle, cracking it loudly.

  "Six years?" I repeat. "So Lindsay was your first partner? I
thought she came later."

  Adam's eyes widen. I know that look on his face means surprise. Likely he's surprised by my deduction. "I didn't realize you knew about that."

  "It wasn't a well-kept secret, Adam. You both worked for my dad, and then when you went off to college, she drove up to Pasadena a lot to see you. It's hard to keep a two-year secret from all of your mutual friends."

  His mouth thinned. "I suppose so."

  "I just didn't know she was your first. But that information is useful. Did she explain to you what she wanted? What she liked?"

  Adam twists the stem of his apple and doesn't look up. "Uh, yeah, more or less. And I figured stuff out as I went along. I'm a quick learner."

  He must have learned fast. I recall overhearing others gossip about him back in his single days, and he apparently never lacked for sexual partners.

  "And Mia?"

  Adam gets this strange look on his face that I cannot read at all. He shoots out of his chair, rubbing at the back of his neck.

  After a long minute, I'm about to repeat my question--in case he didn't hear me the first time--when he finally speaks again. "What about her?" he asks quietly.

  "Was she more experienced than you?"

  His cheeks bulge, like he's clenching his jaw, and suddenly he's taking a lot of interest in rearranging the magnets on the fridge. "No," is all he says.

  "Maybe I should talk to her. Maybe one of her previous partners wasn't as experienced as her."

  That strange look crosses Adam's face again. "You shouldn't bother. Emilia was a virgin."

  "Oh. Hmm." I scratch my jaw again. "So much for getting a woman's perspective, then. So she's never been with anyone else besides you?"

  He's standing kind of stiffly now. "No."

  "That doesn't worry you?" I ask.

  He frowns. "Worry me? Why would it worry me?"

  "Well, when you two get married, she will never have the chance to be with anyone else--presumably for the rest of her life. She doesn't feel like she missed out?"

  Adam lets out a long sigh and turns around, picking up his workout towel. But he doesn't respond to me for a while. "I guess I never thought about it like that. She doesn't seem to mind."

  "You should ask her."

  "Or," he says, turning back to me, "I could just not bring it up. And neither should you--especially all that stuff about Lindsay."

  "Why? Does she believe you have feelings for Lindsay? I hope you don't. But if you do, I'll fight the next duel against you." I'm joking. I know he doesn't feel anything for Lindsay, though they still see each other as friends from time to time.

  "Emilia already knows the general gist of all that. But it would bug her to talk about it. People don't like to hear about their partner's former lovers."

  "Well then, I guess you're lucky she doesn't have any that you might hear about."

  Adam looks up at the ceiling for a few moments but doesn't say anything.

  "Why is that?" I ask.

  "Why is what?"

  "Why don't people want to hear about their partner's former lovers?"

  "Do you want to imagine Jenna with some other man?"

  I picture it immediately--Jenna wrapped in Doug's arms. Holding his hand. Him kissing her. Suddenly, I'm inexplicably angry, my face flushing with heat. Adam notices, of course, because then he nods. "See? Now you get it."

  "You're lucky you don't have to worry about that ever."

  "I'm lucky for many reasons. I have the most amazing woman in the world. You can have the second best." He grins.

  "It doesn't make sense, though, why that makes me mad. I know she hates Doug now. He was callous and rude to her. She won't even speak to him. I have nothing to be jealous about."

  "But picturing them together, even if it's the past, is enough to make you angry. And maybe she was with other guys before that."

  "That was before I knew her though. But even that makes me mad. I don't get it."

  Adam smiles. "I think you've got it pretty bad."

  "Got what?"

  "I think you're falling hard for this girl. Just be careful, okay? Don't pin too much on this. Emilia says..." Then he cuts himself off, looking away.

  "What does she say?"

  Adam shakes his head. "Well, some people like being in long-term relationships and some don't. And you've mentioned that Jenna plans on moving soon."

  I shrug and look away too. Adam's words are reconfirming my decision not to have sexual intercourse with Jenna. Even if it would be the most pleasurable experience of my life, the pain of her leaving afterward would not make it worth it.

  "I understand. I'm not planning on having sex with her."

  Adam gets that weird smile again. "You should just go with the flow, Liam. See where it takes you. Don't hold yourself back. Sometimes things happen that aren't in the plan."

  "That never happens for you," I say. "You always have everything mapped out ahead of time."

  Adam laughs, but I'm not sure why. "Some things in life are impossible to plan. Count on that for love--if, of course, that's what it turns out to be."

  I wonder what he means and continue pondering this great mystery called love. Who'd have thought that something you can't see, hear or touch, much less even define, could rule your life so completely?

  Chapter 23

  Jenna

  It was finally the weekend, and I was excited to attend Medieval Times with William, Adam and Mia. As promised, I wore my medieval garb, complete with a bodice corset over my low-cut, off-the-shoulder blouse. Mia wore my other outfit--I'd bartered with one of our seamstresses to make it for me--but as Mia was taller, it ended up being a little short. She paired the dress with some boots though, and it looked great.

  The boys had refused to join in on our fun, opting for boring twenty-first century clothing instead. However, Adam did say he approved of the cleavage that Mia's costume created and gave it two enthusiastic thumbs up.

  I'd been pretty shocked when Mia had approached me with the idea of Medieval Times, saying she wanted to help William with his crowd issues. It seemed like this hard working, young power couple wouldn't have time for things like this. Adam was a mega-busy billionaire and Mia was just as overloaded with medical school. But apparently I was wrong. Adam even treated us to a limo ride and bought the tickets to the best seats in the house.

  Medieval Times was located on the main drag in Buena Park along a stretch of entertainment venues not far from Disney's rival theme park, Knott's Berry Farm. The structure was large, like a big warehouse, but decorated with towers and other accouterments to make it appear like a castle. There were even fake turrets and a drawbridge, as well as brightly colored pennants flying above crenelated walls. The effect was ruined, however, by the flashing digital sign out front advertising the venue to passersby on the busy boulevard.

  We presented our tickets and were given seating assignments and color-coded paper crowns that denoted we'd be sitting in the red section of the arena.

  I sighed as we found seats along the walls of the entry hall. "What is with the male fascination with boobs, anyway? My eyes are up here, people!" I said after the fifteenth pair of male eyes fastened on my bust. Mia and I had both garnered a lot of attention in our period garb.

  Adam shrugged, slinging an arm around his fiancee's shoulders and savoring an appreciative eyeful of her cleavage. "Be thankful men don't have boobs. If they did, they'd never leave the house."

  William began berating him for how silly an idea that was, since male mammals do not have the need for mammary glands to produce milk for their young. It was amusing to watch Adam and Mia fight off the laughter from that mini-tirade.

  The main hall outside the arena was a capitalist haven. Everywhere you looked there was princess swag, flowing pennants and medieval-style plastic play swords. Adjacent to the main hall were the stables where guests could admire the gorgeous steeds that the knights would be riding during the jousts. Mia, having grown up around horses, took a great interest
, commenting on how beautiful and well bred they were. We were also able to explore the mews for birds of prey--falcons and hawks with hoods and long leather jesses hanging from their legs.

  As I walked beside William, I caught small snatches of the quiet chatter between Adam and Mia. I heard talk of some kind of "bet" along with the usual good-natured teasing between them.

  Back in the front hall, William stood against the wall while we continued to wait. He scanned the room with arms tightly folded across his chest, breathing deeply--the way I'd shown him--and seemingly aware of every little thing that was happening. I offered him my ear buds and tunes from my playlist in order to drown out the sounds of the crowd, which seemed to visibly calm him.

  Adam went off to buy us all some drinks.

  "So...how are things going with you and William?" Mia asked.

  "Good," I nodded. "We've been having fun."

  Mia's head tipped toward me, her mouth twisted in a crooked smile. "Really...what kind of fun?"

  I frowned. "The usual kind."

  "Like the usual kind for two friends hanging out, or...your usual kind?"

  "Goddess, Mia, you make me sound like a fallen woman, to use the medieval term."

  She shrugged. "Just curious."

  I narrowed my eyes. "So you've said. You're extremely curious. Both you and your future hubby." After our encounter on the couch, I asked William about the condoms and he said Adam had given them to him along with some advice.

  Mia blushed and changed the subject. Which was good, because she really didn't need to know how much William had enjoyed playing with my boobs--or how much I'd liked it when he did. I'd keep that our little secret.

  Nothing more was said until we were directed to enter the red section of the great arena. That was where we would be cheering for the Red Knight. The playing field was divided by six different colors: green, black, white, red, yellow and blue, each with its own corresponding "champion."

  "This is our lucky night! Red is my favorite color," I said. "What's yours, Wil?"

  "All of them," he answered with a straight face.

  "Hmm...must be an artist thing, I guess."

  He looked at the place settings. "There are no forks."

  "We're at Medieval Times. We eat like the medievals did," joked Adam.

  "This meal and style of eating is completely inauthentic. As is the term 'medievals,'" William said. "I'm not going to eat with my hands."