Page 80 of The Broken Hearts Club

“You obviously wrote that.”

“I typed it up ahead of time, and she signed it for me. That’s her nice, big John Hancock at the bottom. And I could have kept going with the euphemisms. I know at least twenty more, but you get the idea. I also opted not to name the ‘sex-related activities,’ like sucking, rimming⁠—”

“I get it, and now I’m doubly sorry I couldn’t be there for that appointment. I would have loved to see her reaction.”

“She’s used to me by now,” I said. “She barely batted an eye when I produced the note. And you don’t have to be sorry for missing the appointment. I knew it coincided with your weekly team meeting when I scheduled it, but it was the last one she had available this week. I didn’t want another weekend to go by without getting to tear your clothes off.”

“Good call. I’m about to head into my meeting, but I’ll see you in a couple of hours. I love you, Collie.”

“I love you, too.”

After we ended the call, I requested a Lyft, which pulled up in front of the building ten minutes later. I fully intended to keep my news to myself, but I was practically vibrating with excitement, which made the woman behind the wheel say, “You seem happy.”

“I am! I finally get to have sex with my husband. It’s going to be our first time.”

“It’s your first time, and you’re already married? What are you, Amish or something?”

“Do I look Amish?”

She glanced at me in the rearview mirror and said, “Kind of. Maybe it’s the haircut, or the fact that you’re dressed all in black.”

“Do Amish people do that?”

“No idea.”

“Then why… never mind.”

She glanced at me again when we pulled up to a stoplight and asked, “Are you nervous?”

“Should I be?”

“I mean, I would be. You never really know how a first time is going to go. Maybe it’ll be great, or maybe it’ll be super awkward, you know? Sometimes two people can be totally compatible in every other way, but they just don’t click in the bedroom.” She quickly added, “But I’m sure you two will be fine.”

That had occurred to me more than once, but I’d tried to let it go. Now I was worried all over again. Miller and I had clicked since the day we met, and the last three weeks after coming home from Idaho had been pure bliss. Now that we were officially a couple, it felt like our entire lives had fallen into place.

But what if we just didn’t work in the bedroom?

My driver dropped me at the curb in front of my house, and I sent a text to Jeannie as I climbed the stairs: I had my checkup and it went great. Miller and I finally get to have sex tonight. But what if it’s terrible?

She replied a few seconds later with: I thought you’d moved past this. It’s not going to be terrible! You and Miller love each other.

I wrote back: Still, though. What if he finds the whole thing underwhelming?

The phone rang in my hand. When I answered it, Jeannie told me, “You need to get out of your head, Collie.”

“Oh, I know.” I sat down on the top step and asked, “How are you? What’s new?”

“In the three hours since I last spoke to you? Oh wait, something actually is new. My dad sent me a photo of a place that’s for sale three blocks from their house. Do I want to be that close to my parents? I’ve gotten used to a several-state buffer between myself and my mom, because as you know, she tends to be…”

“A lot.”

“Exactly. But they’re paying for the house with the money they make from the sale of this one, so⁠—”

“Suck it up, buttercup.”

“I was going to say I know I should be grateful.”

“That, too.”