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“You’ve convinced me,” he says dryly. “But you go first with the fake sex sounds.”
Oh, dear.
I stare at Gavin’s chiseled jawline. Knowing what his muscular shoulders and torso looks like beneath the tux isn’t exactly helping with my stage fright. And I refuse to imitate the noises his former girlfriend made. Now that I told that little story, the audio reel from it is fresh in my mind. But I have more self-respect than that—although not by much considering our current situation.
“Close your eyes,” I order. “I can’t do this with you watching me.”
“Shouldn’t you close your eyes and focus on one of your top ten fantasies?”
“No.”
Nothing good will come from feeling as if I want to take off my skin-tight gown in a freaking bathroom in front of my best friend after I’ve discovered he can kiss. At least nothing that will keep my heart in one piece until after this charade ends, and not smashed to pieces by a man who worships at the altar of reputation.
“Fantasies are a bad idea,” I add.
“In general?”
I’m not answering that. I close my eyes and let out a soft moan. It sounds forced and not at all convincing. I open my eyes again and survey my skeptical audience, or the member of the audience in this room.
“That’s the best you’ve got?” he murmurs.
“You’re insulting my fake sex sounds?” I keep my voice low, but there’s more fire behind those words than passion motivating my moans.
“What is usually happening when you make that sound?” he asks.
“In my fantasies or real life?”
Gavin cocks his head. “Now I’m curious. Both?”
“In real life, I’m usually trying to cover for disappointing sex,” I say. But as soon as the words are out there, suspended in the bathroom air between us, I regret them. The details of my sex life are none of Gavin’s business.
“Mr. Mistake was a disappointment,” he says slowly. I can’t tell if he likes the idea or is horrified I married a man who failed in the sex department.
“No, he wasn’t,” I reply. Now that I’ve tossed the subject out there, I know Gavin will insist on an explanation. “But the only guy I’ve had the courage to sleep with since was awful.”
“So you what? Gave up?”
“I broke up with him and moved on,” I correct. “It’s what normal adults do. We don’t wait until our girlfriend or boyfriend turns to blackmail.”
He nods as if processing this information. “What about in your fantasies?”
“What?” How are we back to this?
“What happens when you make that sound in your fantasies?” he asks.
“I’m not telling you.”
“We don’t keep secrets.”
“This isn’t a secret.” My voice rises above a hushed whisper. I pause and take a breath and then add, “It’s private.”
He leans closer, until his forehead is practically touching mine. “You know everything about me.”
I stare into his dark eyes. If I rise up on my tiptoes, I could kiss him and end this conversation.
And start another …
I have very little desire to debate Why I Kissed Gavin in the Bathroom over our main course tonight.
