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“If I could write.” I snorted. “I’m the best at the sex texts. You just ask any of the lads. I’m gifted.” I grinned up at her. “I’m so fucking detailed that I could be a screenwriter on a porn set. I just… I fuck up the spellings and then everyone knows it’s me.”
“Did you keep it for me?” she asked, happily skipping over my random comments. “Your virginity?” Her eyes were bright with excitement as she bounced on her knees. “Omigod, I already know the answer, but I need to hear you say it.”
“I’ve told you before, there’s only you for me, Claire-Bear.”
“Aww!” She clutched her chest and cooed at me like I was one of our kittens. “I so knew you were going to say that, but it sounds amazing anyway.”
“Yeah, so listen,” I began to say, while I mentally prepped for what was about to come. “You know the way I have that really bad phobia?”
“Of blood?” She nodded solemnly. “It’s so bad for you, isn’t it?”
“Hmm,” I replied, voice cracking like a girl’s as the mental image popped into my head and made me feel faint. “I know this is a strange request, but I was kind of hoping you would do me a solid and check.”
“Oh, you mean check.” Her eyes widened when she registered what I meant. “Me or you?” she asked and then started to remove the blanket from her body.
“Both,” I replied and then swiftly clenched my eyes shut.
“Okay, ew!”
“Ew?” My heart started to thunder wildly in my chest. “Is that a good ew or a bad ew?”
“Uh, kind of both.”
“Both?”
“Don’t freak out, but I sort of bled on the both of us.”
“Oh Jesus Christ.” My stomach rolled. “Is it bad? Is there a lot? Is it on me? It’s fucking on me, isn’t it?”
“No, of course it’s not bad,” she huffed, sounding insulted. “And calm down, you big baby. It’s just your typical run of the torn-hymen blood loss.”
“Torn hymen?” I think I screamed. “What the fuck is that?”
“You know what that is, Gerard,” she snickered. “You’ve had the talk.”
“Oh my god, baby, you have to take the condom off,” I strangled out, feeling faint. “Please, I’m begging you because if I have to look at your torn hymen—and I’m really sorry about tearing it, by the way—then I’ll pass out.”
“Gerard!”
“I’m serious,” I strangled out, chest heaving. “I know I’m being a pussy, and I swear I’ll make it up to you, but I will die on the mortal spot if I see blood, Claire. Die, I tell you!”
“You are being ridiculous,” she huffed, but when I felt her fingers on my dick, I sagged in relief. “You know, in the movies, it’s the men that look after the woman after sex,” she complained as she rolled the condom off. “Not the other way around.”
“We’re not in the movies, Claire-Bear,” I choked out. “We’re in a tree house in your mam’s backyard in Ballylaggin.”
“Okay, lift your hips,” she instructed a few minutes later. When I obliged, she pulled my boxers into position. “Just keep your eyes closed when you take a shower later and you’ll be golden.”
“And you?”
“Yes, Gerard, I’m perfectly decent again. You big baby.”
I risked a peek and sagged in relief when my eyes landed on Claire pulling on her pajama pants.
“Sorry about the drama.” I offered her a sheepish grin. “Hope you still love me.”
“You’re such a dope.” She slipped her T-shirt back on and smirked. “But yes, Gerard Gibson, I still love you.”
“Thank god for that.” Feeling braver, I stood up in a stooping position to avoid the roof and went to her. “My hero.”
