I nod and then remember she can’t see me. “I try to. It’s mostly listening to audiobooks now while I’m driving if it’s an appropriate time for it. I don’t know the last time I picked up a physical book, it’s a bit harder to read that way when I’m always on the move.”
“I wanted to be just like you in that sense. I remember constantly trying to read one every day. It took me a few months to get fast enough for it, but soon I chewed through all the classics. I did really well with it for a long time.”
I hurry and run the soap over my body, not wanting to stay in the water too long. “Do you still read like that?”
A snort sounds from the other room. “No. I got out of the habit in college. The assignment load mixed with being stressed out of my mind didn’t lead to a lot of productive reading time. Now, with the bakery, I didn’t want to get a book messy with stuff, and I’m too tired to try and read once I get home. I never thought about doing audiobooks though. That’s a good idea, especially for when I’m in the frosting zone. I tend to put on music during those times with earbuds in, I can just make it a book instead of music.
“There you go!” I smile, liking the fact she wants to try so hard. I lick my lips before I start shampooing my hair. “So you wanted to be like me growing up?”
There’s a long pause of silence, and I worry for a second that I’ve somehow gone over the mark.
“Well, sort of. It wasn’t so much to be like you, more like I wanted you to think...” she trails off.
I raise a brow. Where is she going with this? “You wanted me to think what?”
“Nothing, it’s stupid.”
For the first time since all this shit happened, I’m starting to feel like there’s hope we can remain friends after this. I want to trust her and that she’s not putting on a show to make me do so. These interactions do seem genuine. She’s already admitted she’s mad still. I press on. “No, tell me, I promise I won’t laugh. What did you want from me knowing that you read a book every day like I did?”
“Just that you would think I was cool.”
I frown, there was a slight hitch to her voice at the start of that. Why is she lying about something like wanting me to know she read every day? I briefly remember her telling me that she had read 365 books one year when I was visiting for Christmas one year while I was still living on the other side of the country. I feel a bit bad. Once I moved, I started to treat her more like my younger siblings, brushing her off for the most part. I was in my thirties and rebelling late in life. I was determined I didn’t need to live close to my family to make my job work. And while that was and is still true. When Dad decided to hand over more of his work load it was easier on everyone for me to move back home.
It makes sense but doesn’t stop me from feeling like my younger self was a raging asshole. I would never put up with a guy like I used to be now. I snort, now I’d rather abstain from sex if I can’t make love to the woman I want to be with. She’s right, life really does have a way of fucking people over.
“What is it?”
I blink. “Huh? Sorry did you say something?”
“No, you snorted and laughed. I guess I was really lame as a kid.”
Fuck. She thought that was at her. When I snorted at myself. “I was just thinking about the time I spent living on the other side of the country. I’m sorry I was such a dick to you back then. I know I brushed you off a lot. That’s what I get for letting my dick think for me. I hope I’m not that bad now. I still remember that Fourth of July party, you’d been trying to get my attention, and the woman I was with was a bit much. Once I got her handled, you were gone. I had wanted to spend time with you before you went off to college. Give you the big bro talk, that if guys broke your heart I would be there to break their dicks.”
An almost tense silence invades the space.
She coughs and clears her throat. “You don’t have to worry, my brother gave me that speech before I left.”
I dip my head under the water, making quick work of getting the shampoo out of my hair, before I stand I grab the towel, securing it around my waist before I step out and reach in for the chain attached to the plug and pull it out. “So, do you have any past flings I need to talk to?”
I stare at myself in the mirror as I run my hand through my hair, slicking it back. I then run it over my face. Man, I need to shave. At least the swelling on my nose has gone down. It doesn’t even ache anymore. I guess I did a good job setting it myself. No weird bumps to worry about. I’ve never cared about being attractive or anything, but I do like having a straight nose.
It takes me a second to notice she hasn’t answered me. “Jo?”
She sighs. “What I told you at the Christmas party is true. I didn’t have time to date.”
The thought of not dating in college is foreign to me. All I did was date; I was a dog. “Understandable. I was the opposite, but it showed with my grades. I did just enough not to get kicked out. What about in high school? I don’t remember seeing you run around with anyone other than your girlfriends. Unless you’re... I mean, it’s cool if you are.”
It’s never crossed my mind that she might be a lesbian, she’s never come across as one, but I haven’t met a lot of lesbians where I know they are one. If she is, that might make things easier on me. At least then I would know I have no chance in hell with her. Even if the thought of seeing her with another woman turns me on.
“No, no. I’m not a lesbian. I didn’t date in high school either. I just didn’t want to date anyone who would ask me out. I didn’t have a connection with any of them, nor did I feel like trying to build one.”
I open the duffle bag to pull out my shaver when a thought strikes me like a bolt of lightning that leaves my head spinning. If she’s never had a partner of any kind, does that mean she’s a virgin still? I have to lean onto the counter and focus on every nasty thing I can think of not to spring a full erection here and now. The thought of her being pure from any other man’s touch is such a turn on.
I shake my head, just because she hasn’t dated doesn’t mean she’s a virgin. My first hook-up was at a party, I never saw the girl again, she went to a different college or something and I hadn’t gotten a chance to get her number. I want to ask her, but that question might be too personal even for us. I’m sure she doesn’t want me to know if she is a virgin. She’s twenty-two for crying out loud. That kind of thing comes with stigmas, even though it shouldn’t.
After thinking about what it was like to go into anaphylactic shock for the first time when I was six and how painful it was, my cock finally shrinks back into a flaccid state.
I then look at myself, the shaver poised above my skin.
