Page 79 of Keepsakes and Kismet

She mutters something, but I capture her words with another kiss.

We continue watching the movie in comfortable silence, eating most of the snacks and finishing the hot cocoa. Over the course of the film, we stretch out and drift closer. The gap between us gets smaller and smaller until both of us lay completely flat in the padded truck bed, propped up only by a couple pillows underneath our heads.

After the last of the popcorn disappears, we make it to the iconic restaurant scene in the movie. Both of us seem to shift a bit when Sally delivers her classic “O.”

Peyton snorts. “God, I miss orgasms. It’s been so long, I could probably come from just a turkey sub, too.”

Like so much of what she says, it’s hilarious, but I don’t miss the underlying tone of sincerity in her voice this time. I watch her closely. Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, and she averts her gaze.

“Pey,” I say gently, drawing her attention back to me.

“Sorry if that weirded you out.” She laughs nervously. “I don’t think the joke landed.”

“Was it a joke?” I ask.

“What do you, uh, mean?”

I swallow, turning on my side to face her. “Do you… I mean, do you miss…”

“Do I miss coming?” Peyton nearly shouts.

We both wince at the outburst, which is made worse by the fact that we’re at a quiet part of the film.

She smacks herself on the forehead. “That was so loud I think the actors in the movie heard it.”

I don’t respond, still lost in thought, entirely focused on what she said before. “Were you being serious? You haven’t… since your ex?”

Peyton grabs the pillow next to her and smothers her face. “God, I made things so awkward. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t. Not for me,” I reassure her, tugging on the bottom of the pillow.

She drops the pillow, and even in the dim twinkle lighting, a scarlet flush climbs her neck.

I clear my throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you…”

“Given myself an orgasm?”

“Yeah.”

She curls a piece of hair behind her ear. “Um, I can’t—or, it’s more like I don’t want to.”

My lips part in surprise. “You can’t get yourself off?”

“It’s just that the idea doesn’t excite me. It feels like work. I’d rather someone—” she clears her throat nervously, “—do it for me.”

“Would you want me to try one day? Now that we’re…” I hesitate, unsure how to end the sentence. “…more?”

She chokes on her own spit, sputtering before sucking in a big gulp of air. “Yeah.”

“Good.” My voice comes out gruff.

Heat rises at the base of my spine, and I take a swig of water. Peyton pops a gummy bear in her mouth, and we both focus back on the movie.

“How would you do it?” The question tumbles out of Peyton in one breath, like she couldn’t prevent herself from asking it.

I duck my head, trying to get a read on her expression. “How would I make you come?”

“Yeah,” she says, barely above a whisper.