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“Well, I didn’t let myself acknowledge the reason at the time. I told myself that he was sweet and kind, and fairly good-looking, and why not, you know? But when I’m really honest with myself …”
“It always comes back to Sam,” Emma finished for her.
“Exactly.”
She went on to explain how she’d half stalked him at the distillery, then played the jealousy card with Brent to spur him into action. She told them about the kiss at her parents’ and the kiss at the bar …
She told them everything up until the door of the hotel room, which is when she felt herself blush and realized that talking about sex in general terms is a hell of a lot easier than talking about sex in personal terms.
And she definitely didn’t tell them about Sam’s outburst about not being good for anyone. It was simply too untrue to voice to anyone. Even her best friends.
“He must have balls of steel if he walked out,” Emma said. “It’s obvious to everyone on the eastern seaboard that he wants you as much as you want him.”
“Obviously not,” Riley said as she rummaged through the delivery bag in search of tiramisu. “And I don’t blame him for not wanting to see things through that night. If I’d found out my mom was in the hospital, I’d be a wreck. But I guess I thought—hoped—that he might have stayed. You know, just to cuddle. Or whatever.”
She broke off on this last part, embarrassed by the admission, and Julie squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“It’s okay to feel, Riley.”
Easy for Julie to say. Julie had someone who loved her back. Riley was terrified that if she opened up those floodgates, she’d turn into one of those needy women who puts her life on hold because she’s smitten with a man.
And Riley was smitten with a man.
She just didn’t want to be.
Then Emma tilted her head and brought the subject back to the elephant in the room. “How is it that you haven’t gotten laid at all since that night in college? I mean, Sam’s sexy and everything, but I don’t know that any guy’s worth being celibate for.”
“Well, it hasn’t been entirely intentional,” Riley muttered. “But you know how when you first meet someone and forget their name … and then you run into them again and don’t want to admit that you don’t know their name, so you don’t ask? And then by the tenth time you see them, it’s entirely too late to admit that you have no idea who they are?”
They nodded.
“Well, my sex life is kind of like that. I started out just waiting for the next guy after Dan, but then a year passed. Then another … and then I started freaking out, like, oh my God, I’m twenty-two and don’t know how to have sex …”
“And then you inadvertently became a sex ‘expert’ and you couldn’t admit that you hadn’t had any,” Julie guessed.
“Precisely.”
“There’s no shame in it, you know,” Grace said kindly. “There’s no one right answer on the appropriate amount of sex.”
Riley reached out and patted her friend on the knee. “Says the woman who’s getting plenty regularly.”
“I’m serious,” Grace replied, “I know you love Stiletto, but you don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for for the sake of this article—”
Riley’s mind flashed back to the feeling of Sam’s hands on her. The sound of their moans mingling as they finally—finally figured out what the other person wanted. Needed.
“Grace,” Riley interrupted. “I’m ready. Seriously ready. When Sam and I were … you know … busy, I thought I was going to explode.”
“Yeah, I’m horny as hell myself these days, and it’s only been a year for me,” Emma said.
Grace looked at her curiously. “A year? What’s that about?”
Emma shrugged and picked at a mushroom on her plate. “Sex just got sort of disappointing there for a while. I thought I’d take a break.”
“But it wasn’t always disappointing,” Julie said, fishing.
Emma hesitated before answering. “Not always. In fact, it used to be pretty great.”
Grace and Riley exchanged a mischievous glance. “Saaaay … when you were with Cassidy?”
