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His face turns boyish. “I overheard something I wasn’t supposed to.”
Oh shit. What could he have possibly heard? “And?”
“I heard you and the girls talking. And I’m not asking to embarrass you, but I want to clear the air. Because I can’t fucking get it off my mind.” It’s as if he’s trying to think of what words to use next. “Have you really never had an orgasm?”
“Oh shitballs, Wade,” I screech. “Are you for real right now?” What is happening with my life?
He lifts his hand up as if he’s protecting himself. “I’m sorry. But you guys weren’t being quiet about it, and now it’s all I can think about.”
“So you thought you’d come over here, eat my cookies, ask me if I’m banging my teammate, and then ask if it’s true that I’ve never had an orgasm? What the heck is wrong with you?” I’m yelling at him, and my body is trying to decide if I’m going to cry or laugh, because what in the actual hell?
“I’m sorry. I know I’m out of line.” He pulls at his collar.
“You sure are,” I mutter, losing some steam.
“You’re driving me crazy lately.” It’s a near whisper, but I take it in.
“Tell me about it,” I offer back just as it’s time to take the cookies out. I once again busy myself avoiding conversation. A few seconds pass, and I spend it thinking about what just happened. Things between Wade and me are on shaky ground right now. It feels like we’re on a precipice of something, so I decide to throw caution to the wind.
“If you must know—if it will allow you to sleep at night—then, yes. What you heard was correct.”
His breath hitches and I refuse to look at him as I slide the final cookies off the sheet.
“And to answer your follow-up question, I’ve only had one sexual partner, and things between the sheets weren’t stellar. I never told him that it wasn’t happening for me, and so he never knew he couldn’t get me to the finish line. It’s not his fault that I didn’t speak up, and I’m not the kind of girl who sleeps around, so it just hasn’t happened for me yet. No Big O here. Good ole Benny is O-less. And sure I could do it myself but, meh. I guess it’s not really my thing.” Word vomit—it’s all over the floor, on the counter, the walls. We’re covered in it, and I can’t do a single thing to clean it up.
I risk a quick glance at him. His mouth hangs open. His cheeks are slightly flushed. On a sigh, I mutter, “Pick your jaw up off the floor, man.”
He does, then he gives it a scratch. I don’t focus on that. No, I start running hot water in the sink and squirt some dish soap into the dirty cookie bowl. When it’s full of water, soaking, I turn to him.
“So to start, I’d like to say thank you for answering all possible follow-up questions in one fell swoop. And two, I’m sorry.”
I narrow my eyes and scoff. “Why are you sorry?”
“I’m not sure?” His words come out as a question. “But I feel like I owe you so many apologies right now.”
“Well, it better only be for making us have this conversation and not for my lack of orgasms, because you have nothing to do with that.”
“Okay. All of that.”
He swallows hard, rubbing the back of his neck, the poor guy, so I throw him a bone.
“Never in my wildest dreams did I think this would be a topic of conversation between us. I don’t feel embarrassed right now. Maybe I will later, but I’m surprisingly okay with it. But can we not make a habit of talking about my sex life, or lack thereof?”
He grunts.
“I’ll take that as confirmation.” I nod and look around the kitchen to see if there’s anything else I can do to distract myself from the awkwardness that is my life.
There isn’t, so I decide another cookie is a good idea.
I don’t even chew for two seconds before he asks, “Are you learning to pole dance so you can get to know your body more? So maybe you’ll have more confidence to tell the next guy how to make you orgasm?”
I choke on the goddamn cookie.
Coughing and thumping my chest, I glare at him. Once I get my esophagus clear of the cookie, I snag an old water bottle from the counter. I’m pretty sure it’s from yesterday morning.
“Excuse me, but warn a girl before you say shit like that.” I clear my throat again.
Thankfully, he looks sheepish when he says, “Sorry. This conversation has me distracted.”
