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“Because no one could compare to Valen and you can’t have Valen,” she said matter-of-fact.
“Florence!” I snapped.
Thankfully she dropped it, but picked up her previous train of conversation. “Then, he’d stop? Apollo fucking Callahan would actually be faithful?”
I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I think so.”
Everything I knew about the men of our world was that affairs weren’t common, or at least common knowledge. Whether they got better at hiding them once they were married, in order not to shatter the flimsy pretence of wedded bliss, or they stopped, I didn’t know for sure. My closest role models of my parents and Archer and Frenella suggested they did love each other. Eventually.
“From what I’ve gathered, it’s kind of like a sowing his oats before settling down thing,” I told her.
“So you need to get sowing your own oats.” I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she nodded. “Gatekeeper,” she said like that answered her own question. “He has totally fucked you over.”
“If only,” I sighed, and we laughed.
“Can’t have him. He won’t let you have anyone else. It’s so unfair.”
I fake gasped. “You wouldn’t be suggesting an equality of the sexes?” I asked sarcastically.
She grinned. “You could give it a red hot try.”
I shrugged. “Yeah,” I said, unenthusiastically.
“There’sreallyno one you want to have a go at?”
I sighed. “Not really.”
And there wasn’t. I got horny like everyone else. I saw to my own needs as often as I felt like it – privacy allowing. I read the books. I saw the movies and TV shows. I watched porn. Alarmingly regularly. I wasn’t quite so naïve as the Saints believed I was.
“Even Valen?” Florence pressed teasingly.
I gave her a smirk. “Other than the obvious. But even if I had a chance in hell that he’d throw me on the nearest surface and fuck me absolutely raw… I don’t know,” I told her, dropping the jokes and being honest.
“Liar.”
I smirked at her in an effort to suppress my full smile. “It’s never going to happen,” I told her.
“Which is why it’s totally safe to admit that you want him bad.”
“I hate him,” I reminded her.
“So? Last I checked, you don’t actually have to like someone to want to fuck them.”
I nodded in resignation. “You really don’t,” I said.
She laughed and playfully threw a cushion at me. “You do want him bad.”
I joined her laughter and admitted as much to myself as to her, “I really do.”
We dissolved into giggles at the sheer absurdity of my situation.
Chapter Six
Florence and I walked to the main building first thing Wednesday morning, books in our arms and minds on how to best fall asleep without Sister Felicia noticing.
“I still think googly eyes,” Florence suggested. “Woman’s eyesight isn’t for shit. And I know about eyesight that’s not for shit.” She pointed wholly unnecessarily to her own glasses.
“Yeah, but she’s a nun. She’s got like, a sixth sense for this stuff. I reckon behind a book’s enough. If you can con her with anything, keep it simple.”
