Page 52 of More Than My Hometown

“Virgin?” Maisey finishes my sentence for me.

Yeah…that…

Nodding, I round the tent and sit down just inside the unzipped front. I pat the spot next to me and wait for Maisey to come join me. It’s a tight fit, my large frame taking up a good portion of the two-person tent, but she squeezes in, snuggling up next to me.

“Not a virgin,” I say, softer this time. “Cashed it in with Laura Suttle when I was twenty-five after a drunken night at The Giddy Up with Hux, for no other reason than I didn’t want to be a virgin forever. We hooked up once or twice after that, but I was clearly not what she really wanted. That said, unlike my brothers, my uh…dance card, as Jace would put it, isn’t very full. Other than Laura, and a couple of miscellaneous blow jobs⁠—”

“Miscellaneous blow jobs?” she scoff-laughs, cutting me off. “With who?”

“What do you mean with who?”

“You name-dropped Laura.”

I pause, narrowing my eyes, trying to determine whether she’s serious. The expectant expression staring back at me says yes, so I opt for the coy answer.

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Maisey scoff-laughs again, shaking her head, the smirk on her face so kissable it’s distracting. “Miscellaneous blow jobs…”

I ignore her remark, pushing forward, afraid that if I don’t, I’ll never get this out.

“Other than those, my only other real experience is you.”

There’s a beat of silence, and the only sound I can hear is my pulse rushing through my veins, growing faster the longer Maisey takes to respond. The knot in my chest tightens, multiplying into more and more knots that continue to turn in on themselves.

Then she squeaks.

Yes, squeaks.

I look at her, not sure that I heard her right.

She smiles up at me, her squeaks turning into a giggle, those bright blue eyes shining like someone set a pair of aquamarine gemstones in the sun.

What the…

“Are you…” I start, the knot tightening to the point it cuts off my ability to breathe.

Maisey giggles again, and this time, there’s no mistaking it. Nor the growing smile on her face.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing at, Maisey. I’m trying to tell you how I feel. That I’m actually kinda insecure about this,” I blurt out, my voice louder than I intended. “That there’s no way I’m going to measure up compared to all your international lovers!”

Clapping her hand over her mouth, Maisey closes her eyes, and it’s clear that she’s trying to hold back laughing even harder.

Fuck me…

“Ewan Porter Hayes, I love you so damn much.”

Errr…what?

Cupping my face with her hands, she holds me for a second, her skin soft and warm against mine, her thumb brushing gently against my cheek. The gesture is tender, comforting, and loving, but is nothing compared to when she leans in to kiss me. Her lips are just as soft, if not more so, but the power behind them is everything.

The brief contact sets me on fire, igniting me from the inside out, soothing every part of my soul that had been aching just a moment ago. I reach for her, trying to pull her closer, wanting all the space between us to disappear, but she pulls back, holding on to my gaze and letting me know that she has me.

And she isn’t letting go.

“I have no idea what thought process got you to international lovers,” she says, trying to hold back her giggle with my made-up term. “Or what makes you think that men all around the world have sex differently.”

“They might…”