Three Little Words

“How is diving a skill? You just jump into the water, right? Any idiot can fall off a diving board.”

“What? No you can’t! It takes lots of— Oh. Now I get it. That’s what you mean about sex. To be good takes practice.”

“Mmm hmm. Any idiot can slide a dick into a pussy. But there’s a lot more going on than just Slot A and Tab B.”

“And you know all that stuff, I suppose.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not the world’s best lover, but I’m pretty good, if I do say so myself. Like you are at giving head.”

She blushed and lowered her eyes.

“You may not be the best in the world, but you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you. I like doing it.”

“I can tell. Speaking of which… I was hoping for round two.”

“Three. You came twice earlier.”

“Well, yeah, but I only counted that as round one, ’cause we didn’t really pause in between.”

“How do you do that, by the way?” she said. “Most guys nee—” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

I chuckled. “Slipped, didn’t you?”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

I looked at her earnestly instead of arguing. “I know you’ve been with more guys than you let on.”

“I have not!”

I did the skeptic thing with my eyebrows.

“I haven’t. Just Simon.”

“Look, I don’t care. I don’t think you’re a tramp or anything. Far from it.

Besides, I’m the beneficiary of all your experience.”

“All my what!”

“Experience. Giving head. You didn’t learn that from a couple of times with Simon. You had boyfriends before him, and—”

“But I never did anything with them. I was a good girl!”

“You’re still a good girl,” I said calmly. “That’s kinda my point. You can be good at sex and still be a good person. Besides, I’ve had other women in my past. Why should I get upset that you’ve had other men? What kind of hypocrite do you think I am?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied doggedly.

“Seriously? Why do you even try? You know you can’t lie to me.”

“Sometimes I really don’t like you.”

“Especially when I call you on your little white lies.”

“They aren’t lies!” She pulled her knees tighter to her chest.

I reached out, but she swatted me away.

“Don’t touch me!”

I felt a surge of anger but clenched my jaw and controlled it.

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “I didn’t mean it.”

I took a deep breath through my nose and exhaled slowly. “It’s okay.

Listen, I don’t want to argue. I don’t care if you’ve been with one guy or ten.

The—”

“Ten! What kind of girl do you think I am?”

I took another deep breath and tried to find my inner balance. “I apologize,” I said after a long moment. “The number doesn’t matter. One guy, two, or… more. I don’t care. Same with the women in my past. The number doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me,” she muttered.

“Which? Your number or mine?”

“Both!”

“Why? It bothers you that I’ve slept with so many women?”

“Of course it does.”

“But… why?”

“I don’t know. It just… does. What if you don’t like something about me?

You can go back to any of them. But I’ll be alone.”

“Not really. I can’t go back. Trust me. I burned some of those bridges pretty thoroughly. And I don’t want to go back to most of them.”

“Most?”

“Okay, any of them. Gina was the only one, and you know who I chose.”

I reached out tentatively and touched her chin. When she didn’t brush me off, I coaxed her to look at me. “I chose you. I love you. I want to spend my life with you.”

“I know,” she said glumly. “I just get scared. Like tonight. I know you want to go all the way, but I’m not ready.”

“Don’t worry about that.” I gently urged her toward me. She unfolded and came into my arms. “I told your dad I’m in it for the long haul, and I mean it.”

“Marianne said the same thing.”

“Because it’s true.”

She rested her cheek against my chest and let out a deep, shuddering breath of released tension.

“And I don’t care how many guys you’ve been with.”

“I know,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

“Just like you shouldn’t care how many women I’ve been with.”

“I can’t count that high anyway,” she said with a feeble laugh. “More than ten.”

“Probably.”

She sat back. “More than fifteen?”

“I don’t really know for sure.”

“Twenty?”

“I’ve never counted.”

“Twenty-five?” Her eyes had grown wider with each new number.

“Maybe. Probably.”

“Thirty?”

I hedged. “Thereabouts, I think.”

“Thereabouts-more or -less?”

“More. But like I said, I haven’t counted. I mean, it isn’t a game where you keep score.” I chuckled at a random thought. “It’s real people with real lives and real emotions.”

“Yeah, but that’s a lot of real people.”

“So? Am I tainted by any of them? Do I smell like pussy or something?”

“Now you’re just being vulgar.”

“Well, yes, but the question still stands. Do I smell like other women?”

“You know you don’t.”

“Do I look any different because I’ve been with them?”

“No, but—”

“Sound different? Taste funny? Feel weird?”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“I am. But how am I any different if I’ve been with one woman or thirty?”

“I don’t know. You just… are.”

“I am different one way: the experience thing we talked about.”

“You can say that again.”