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It does things to me. Things I need to ignore. "I'm always honest."
"I was a good kisser?"
I nod.
"The best?" she asks.
"I don't remember."
"I never thought you'd spare my feelings."
"I don't." It's not true. I remember every second. It's just I try to forget. So I won't do something stupid. Well, stupider than usual.
"It was a long time ago," she says.
"You still remember?"
"It was my first kiss."
My dick is way too excited to hear that. My heart too. Usually, the bastards aren't aligned.
"What makes a good kiss?" She says it as if it's a normal question. As if it's all theory, not a blazing memory of our lips connecting.
I try to match her energy. To keep it hypothetical. "Depends on the kiss."
"For you?"
"Why?" I down half my drink in one sip.
"If I have to step out of my comfort zone, you have to step out of your comfort zone."
"That's an odd way to thank someone for doing you a favor."
"By returning the favor?"
Damn. She's right. How can I argue? "I don't really think about it that way."
"Think about it now, then," she says. "About someone who you liked, who you liked kissing."
It's hard to picture anyone else with her so close. But it's smart. Really, anything that gets my head anywhere else. I try to recall an enjoyable enough short relationship, but nothing recent hits. "Janice."
"From high school?"
"You didn't specify a time period."
"Okay." She takes a long sip. "What did you like about dating Janice from high school?"
"She was pretty. I liked to look at her. I know that sounds shallow, and I guess it is, but it's not too. I like to look at you."
"Oh my god, that's the meanest backhanded compliment I've ever heard."
"Shit, it does sound that way." I don't mean it that way though. I love to look at Val because she's Val and because she has a wicked smile, intense brown eyes, and perfect tits. But then I'm not thinking about her tits. I'm trying. "You're beautiful too."
"Not conventionally."
"Maybe in high school. But now?" My hand goes to her temple instinctively. "And even then. Yeah, the ponytail didn't flatter you, but the glasses? They were smart hot."
"You miss them?"
Now, she wears contacts. I only see her glasses when she's waking up or going to bed. I love the intimacy of that, but I miss seeing nerdy Val every day too. "They were you."
"This isn't?"
"It is too." Don't look down. Don't look down. Don't—Too late. My eyes flit to her cleavage. "I'm just not used to it."
"My boobs?"
"They're bigger."
She laughs. "A little."
"How'd that happen?"
"I gained weight. It's not rocket science."
"Did it all go to your chest?"
"You're not supposed to ask these things," she says.
"This is a fucking elixir of truth. It's strong."
She smiles. "It's okay if you didn't think I was pretty in school."
"I did, but it was the way I think my brother is good-looking. It wasn't an attraction thing."
"Me too."
She thought that too and she doesn't now? Or—shit, I'm getting too many ideas. I need a new topic. Any other topic. "Where were we?"
"Janice. You liked looking at her."
"She had a nice face."
"She did," she agrees.
"And she was pleasant. I know that sounds like an insult, but it was what I wanted then. Something totally different than my house. A nice girl with a nice smile." I can almost remember the afternoons at her parents' place. The evenings in the back seat of my car. The date at the movie theater. I see the rough sketch but not the details, not the sensations.
"Is that all? She was pleasant?"
I try to dive into the memories of simpler times. They were never easy, but they were less complicated. And that was my relationship with Janice too. Uncomplicated. "We never really had a lot in common, but she always tried. She asked about my day before we started making out."
"Did you answer?"
"Sometimes. But I didn't need to answer. I just needed someone to care."
"Did you ask about her day?"
"Yeah, but we didn't exactly talk a lot. We both knew it wasn't a lasting relationship. We liked kissing each other and that was enough."
"That was everything?"
"I was sixteen." And I had Val. I didn't need a woman to fulfill me emotionally or intellectually. I had Val.
All these years, I never needed to look for someone else. I had her.
"She was a good kisser," I say.
"Ah. Now, we're getting somewhere." She drops her hand and looks up at me, interest in her dark eyes. "What made her a good kisser? Was it technique?"
"Partly."
Val raises a brow and motions go on.
"She did this thing where she'd drag her teeth over my lip. It was aggressive. It was fucking hot."
"Really, sweet Janice was into biting?"
"The sweet ones are the freaks."
Her laugh fills the space. "Did she get freaky?"
"We didn't have sex," I say. "Just a lot of kissing."
