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“I haven’t . . . I mean, I can . . . but I haven’t . . . not in a very long time,” I say, fumbling the string of words. I twist the sheets between my fingers.

This is my own personal Mount Everest. It’s something I’m unsure I’ll be able to conquer again. I haven’t come since high school, before I started dating.

Now Gio is silent. Perhaps he’s taking it in, or he’s trying to decipher my meaning, or he’s slipped out of the room completely.

Will he want to mess with a woman he can’t satisfy?

“How long?” he asks in a low vibrating roar.

My eyes water. “I, I, I don’t . . . I mean, years, like eleven, twelve. I can’t remember.”

“Is there a medical reason?”

I huff out a frustrated breath, bobbing my head as if he could see me. “I think I just get too in my head.”

And though I haven’t with myself in a while, according to my doctor, it still may be possible. It’s called anorgasmia. I can still feel pleasure, but I have trouble reaching the finish line, but that’s more than I’m willing to share.

There’s another pause. The silence stretches so thin, it might snap and slap me for what I’ve revealed.

This was a terrible idea.

I roll off the bed and stand. I’m two steps from locking myself inside the bathroom until further notice.

“Let me try to help you,” Gio says.

I suck in a breath and cough from shock.

“Sophia, are you okay?” A shuffling comes from across the room.

“Stay there.” I hold out my hand as if that would keep him away, although I’m learning it might not. “I’m fine.”

With my hand over my thumping heart, I calm my breaths.

“You’ll . . . help. Me? I, I, I—” My gaze dashes to our shared sheet wall, where I’m waiting for him to descend.

“From here,” he says to clarify. “I’ll talk you through it. Think of me as a personal consultant, someone to warm you up. Like phone sex.”

I squeak and cover my mouth with both hands.

“If my offer makes you uncomfortable, I can leave⁠—”

“No!” I cut him off too loudly.

I sit back on the mattress and squeeze my pillow to my chest. Listening to Gio’s rhythmic breathing, I give myself time to process his offer.

His very generous, very needed and wanted offer.

When I’ve had enough time, I say, “I might be open to a consultation.”

29/

giovanni

Embrace Your Inner Pineapple

“I haven’t . . . I mean, I can . . . but I haven’t . . . not in a very long time.”

Sophia can barely speak, but when I piece together her words, I’m dumbstruck.