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“She was naked in the back of your mom’s car.”
“Yes, she was.”
“You were naked.”
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“But you didn’t fuck her.”
“I did not.”
It came to me like a nine iron to the forehead. My head slowly bobbed as his words started to chip away at the brick wall that was my brain. “Ah, because you didn’t have the chance because I caught her sucking your cock…”
He brought the glass up to cover the smirk on his lips. His eyes rolled at me from above the glass. “The reason is irrelevant. Because I did not fuck her.”
I sat back and folded my arms over my breasts. I cocked one eyebrow at him. “So, basically it’s the Bill Clinton Defense.”
He frowned as a slight smile bit at the corner of his lips. “The Bill Clinton Defense?”
I jabbed on knuckle in the air and did a very bad impression of Bill Clinton. “I did not have sex with that woman… Juju Wheeler…”
“Ah, the Bill Clinton Defense.”
“A blowjob is sex. Same as fucking.”
“I beg to disagree,” he said, holding up his own finger now and swiping it back and forth through the air. “A blowjob is sex. Fucking is sex. But a blowjob is not fucking, hence a lesser offense.”
“A lesser offense?” I asked, nodding thoughtfully.
“Yes.”
“And you think it should carry a lesser sentence.”
He stared into my eyes and said, “Isn’t ten years enough?”
I started to speak, but my brain had the good sense to keep my mouth shut. Shane was right. I was sitting there beating him up over something that happened —or I thought had happened— more than ten years ago. Was a blowjob as severe an act of betrayal as fucking? Was it a lesser form of cheating and thereby easier to forgive? Should I have reacted the way I did back then, thinking that Shane and Juju’s affair had gone much further than it actually had? Who knows. It was too late to even think about it now.
I blew out a long breath and picked up my drink. I took a slow sip and forced myself to smile. “Tell me about the SEALs.”
“Not much to tell,” he said. “I go where they send me and do what I’m ordered to do.”
“Do you like it?”
“Most of the time.”
“Do you ever miss home?” I asked
He fixed his eyes on mine. “Sometimes.”
“What do you miss most?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You. I miss you every minute of every day.”
“I miss you, too.” I got up from the table and held out my hand. “Will you make love to me, Shane, like you used to?”
