I set the last plate in the cabinet and lean back against the counter, watching Zoey wipe her hands on the dish towel.
And then I ask the thing I've been holding in my mouth since the sofa.
"Can I ask you something?"
I see the shift in her shoulders immediately. The way her spine straightens beneath my hoodie.
But she nods. "What's up?"
"Earlier. On the sofa." I choose my words carefully, rolling them over in my head before I let them out, which by the way, issounlike me. "You stopped me. When I was… going down on you. And in the locker room, you cried. But you said it wasn't because you didn't want it."
She's looking at the counter now, tracing a circle in the granite with her fingertip.
"So what's going on, Zo?" I keep my voice light and gentle. At least, I hope I do. "Is this going too fast for you?"
The silence stretches. The movie's still murmuring in the other room, some muffled explosion, but in here it's just us and the noise of the fridge.
Zoey exhales and grabs her wine glass, drawing back one big sip before dropping it back down.
And then, in what feels like one giant breathless explanation of her entire life, she tells me everything.
About her ex-husband. About their early marriage that she claims was a mistake. About how sex became a to-do list item.
She goes into detail about how after Morgan was born and the walls of their apartment were tissue-paper thin, she trained herself to be silent. About how eventually the silence became permanent, and the wanting just… stopped.
Then, as we move to the island counter again, my forearms pressed on the cold surface as I listen to every word she says, she tells me about the two years since.
About how no one has touched her. Not once.
I don't interrupt. I just listen, every muscle in my body locked tight because if I move, I might break something.
"… and so, I swear I used to beloud," she whispers, and her voice cracks on the word. "I used to love it, Colt. I used to love being vocal, you know what I'm like."
I smile and nod. "Yeah, I do."
She smiles and shakes her head. "And now… it's like I don't even know if I remember how."
"Well, you did."
She blinks up at me.
I wink. "On the sofa. For about three seconds before you caught yourself. And Zo?" I hold her gaze. "It was thehottestthing I've ever heard in my entire life."
A wet laugh escapes her, half-sob, half-relief. She swipes at her eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie.
My hand finds hers on the counter, my fingers threading through hers, warm and steady.
"Come with me."
I lead her down the hallway to the bathroom and flick the lights on. She watches as I reach into the shower and crank the handle until steam starts curling toward the ceiling, filling the room with warmth that wraps around us instantly.
Then I turn to her.
My hands find the hem of the hoodie, and I lift it over her head slowly, letting my knuckles graze her ribs, her breasts, hercollarbone. She lifts her arms and the fabric slides free, leaving her in nothing but those panties I pulled off earlier.
I kiss her shoulder. The curve of her neck. The spot behind her ear that makes her breath hitch.
"You're so beautiful," I murmur against her skin. "Every single inch."
