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Because I’ve not told them much about Jenna, other than I’m dating someone I really like and want them to meet, I figure I better give them some background.

“Okay, here’s the deal about Jenna.” I fill them in on our first meeting, how sensitive she was to her scarring, how I handled that and we became friends, and that I then wanted more. I tell them a bit about the fire and how Jenna was leery to trust, but that I felt I had it now.

I tell them that feelings between us grew quick.

“So, what’s the problem?” Daniel asks. “You’re not worried about this moving too fast, are you? Because you should trust your gut.”

“I’m not worried about it moving too fast. Not the feelings part. That’s genuine and locked solid. It’s how things are moving in other respects.”

Daniel blinks at me, waiting for more explanation. Marianne smiles knowingly. Daniel looks at Marianne, notes the smile, and then his eyes widen. “Oh, you’re talking about sex.”

“No,” I exclaim, way too quickly and loudly. Then with a lower voice, I admit, “Yes. I mean, sort of. It’s been slow going.”

“Is it a trust issue?” Marianne asks, setting her knife down and picking up her wineglass. “You said she was leery at first but that she now trusts you. Are you taking things slow because of that?”

“I don’t know anymore,” I say with a frustrated sigh. “I think at first, yes. Then it became about wanting to be respectful of her. And I keep telling myself to wait to make it special.”

“That’s a valid way to progress a relationship,” Marianne says.

“Right, I know that.” I pick up my beer bottle and take a sip. “If both people want to take it at a slower pace. But now, I’m not sure we both want that.”

“You want more now?” Daniel guesses.

“I mean, I always want more. I’m a dude. But actually, I think I might be going too slow for Jenna.”

“And how does she feel about this?” Marianne asks, but the question isn’t meant to have an answer because I’ve already made it clear that I’m guessing at things. I’ve failed to discover exactly how Jenna feels.

“Clearly, we’ve not had that discussion, or else I wouldn’t be asking your opinion,” I grumble at my sister. “Just pretend you’re a woman in this situation where a guy was taking things super slow. Even though you may have had some intimate moments, you want more, but he’s still going slow.”

Daniel chuckles and swats me with a backhand. “Your sister never had that problem with me.”

I twist my neck slowly to glare at my brother-in-law. “Don’t really want to know that stuff about you and my sister.”

Marianne snorts, and I look back to her. “You want to know how I’d feel? I’d wonder if there was something wrong with me if you were taking it too slow.”

“Why?” I exclaim. “Jenna knows my feelings are deep.”

“And yet the natural progression in any relationship is sexual intimacy. And frankly, these days things move fast. People are far more sexually open. You don’t have to be in love to share your body and to share passion.”

“That’s the truth.” Daniel snickers, and Marianne rolls her eyes. I ignore him, or else I might punch him.

“The point being,” Marianne drawls, leveling one more look at her husband that he should keep his mouth shut before he gets his ass kicked by her and not me. She then returns her attention to me. “If you go too slow, she’ll wonder if there is something wrong with her. And if she’s already dealing with confidence issues because of her scars, you could be doing more harm than good by taking things slow out of respect.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, scrubbing my hand through my hair. Jenna’s confidence waxes and wanes. I hope I’ve not done anything to make her doubt herself or my attraction to her. If she could see me every night taking myself in hand to images of her, she’d know exactly how strongly I want her.

“No matter how much attention and sweet words you shower her with, don’t ever give her one small reason to doubt your interest.” Marianne’s last words are good advice.

More than anything, I need to have a candid talk with Jenna. I need to make sure we move forward together and not stall out because I have some romantic notion about how the pace should be set due to my overprotective nature or because I want to make things so special, I might end up killing what makes us special in the first place.

The doorbell rings, and I practically jump off my stool, having been so thoroughly invested in this conversation. For a few minutes, I completely forgot about Jenna coming over.

But now that she’s here, on the other side of the door, I know exactly what I need to do so this thing between us flourishes.

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