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“On that note, I’m leaving. Thanks for the advice. I love you,” I say, getting up and wrapping my arms around her.
“I love you too, baby. I’m always here.” She kisses my cheek.
When I get home Tenn is in the kitchen and smiles at me. “Good timing, I just got home. You hungry?”
My stomach growls, and I laugh. “I guess so.”
We take our pizza to the couch, and he hands me the remote to find something on TV. Don’t let it fool you, he’s just being nice because he knows I was having a shitty morning. Normally he will sit on the remote so I can’t change whatever dumb ass show he puts on.
“So, how was the beach?” he asks before biting into his pizza.
See I told you. “It was good, but not as good as this pizza. Where the hell is it from?” I ask.
We chat for a bit while we eat. I don’t tell him I talked to my mom or what I figured out. Although the more I think about it the more I wonder if he’s just the person to help me. No, what am I, fucking crazy?
“I’m going lay down. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the pizza,” I say and go into my room.
I don’t lay down, though, I pace my room trying to figure out who I talk to or what I do. I feel like anyone I talk to will make me feel like an asshole. Holly won’t understand. Jennifer, well, I’m not talking to her, and she’s the last person I’d ask for advice anyway. My mom will only make things worse. Who does that leave? Tenn. There’s no way I can ask him or tell him or can I? Maybe he is just the person to help me.
Feeling like I have no other choice, I walk out of my room and stand in front of his door. I lift my hand to knock and turn around. “Christ, what am I about to do?” I turn and stare at his door. This is probably the worst idea I’ve ever had, and it could very well bite me in the ass. Unable to turn away, I close my eyes and knock on his door.
“Come in,” he yells.
I open the door and step inside. He’s sitting up in bed, shirtless with that gray comforter up to his waist. His eyes are bouncing back and forth searching mine, waiting on me to say something.
Taking a deep breath, I twist my hands in front of me. “I have a problem, and I kinda think you might be able to help.”
He sits up a little straighter and pats his bed. “Sit, talk to me,” he says, looking a bit concerned.
Sitting down on his bed is the worst idea ever. Shit, being in here might actually be the worst idea ever. What the hell am I doing? I’m two steps away from crossing a line that I may want to jump back over.
Taking a calming breath, I hold my hands in front of me. “It’s better if I stand,” I say after clearing my throat and looking at the floor. Clearly my heart or stomach or fucking intestine has made its way up into my throat trying to choke me.
“Regan, you’re making me nervous. What the hell is wrong?” he asks, pushing the covers off himself. Now I need to talk to him with his fucking boxers on.
“Tenn, this is really fucking hard for me. It’s embarrassing standing here, but fuck I don’t know who else to turn to.” I take a deep breath and push myself to just fucking say it already. “So I’ve had sex plenty of times, but well ummm, fuck.” I’m losing my nerve.
“But what?” He pushes.
“But I’ve never done anything else. Fuck, happy?” I shout at this point. Only because I’m embarrassed, no other reason.
He chuckles lightly, and I snap my eyes to him. “I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at the way this is going down.” He scrubs his face regaining his composure and looks at me. “So when you say you haven’t done anything else, you mean like blow jobs, hand jobs, being eaten out, finger fucked, ass play…”
“Yes, you fucking pig. Christ, stop talking like our parents’,” I hiss.
“Alright, so what do you need my help for?” he asks, getting serious again.
And here it is. Here is where I will want to run out the door screaming and hide. I’ve never put myself out there like I am about to, and I’m terrified. I’m scared he will laugh at me, that he’ll reject me, that he’ll think I’m fucking crazy. Honestly, it’s how I’d feel if the roles were reversed.
I search his eyes before looking down at the floor once again. “I want you to teach me,” I mumble so quickly and quietly that I’m not sure at this point if he’s even heard me.
“Regan, look at me,” he whispers. I don’t want to. I don’t want to see what I clearly know his face is showing. “Hey come on,” he pushes. Lifting my gaze to him, he grins. “I know this isn’t easy for you, so relax. I’m not going to make you feel any more uncomfortable.”
I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and nod. “Thanks.”
“So can I just ask something?”
“Do you really need to?”
