“Kai?” I release him with my mouth but continue to stroke him with my hand.

“Don’t stop, baby.”

“Kai, I want more.” I stand, reaching behind to unclasp my bra. As it falls to the floor, I watch his eyes. “Touch me.”

Kai’s never given me an orgasm. I want that to change tonight. Maybe if there are no boundaries, he’ll take his time with me. Our intimacy usually ends as soon as he’s had his release. Maybe the feeling of him penetrating me will allow me to let go of my own pleasure.

“Please, Kai, touch me.”

He’s still. I slide down my panties, step out of them, and take his hand. As I turn to lead him to my bed, I hear his breath catch in his throat and his grip on my hand tightens. I shouldn’t look back, because I know what I’ll see and it will crush me.

My body deceives me. Turning my head, I see it. Pity.

“Kai?”

“Viv…” he shakes his head “…I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?”

Yanking my hand from his, I sigh. “No, it doesn’t hurt! What hurts is the look in your eyes. Jeez, Kai, you’ve touched it before!”

“I know, it’s just … this is the first time I’ve … seen all of it. I didn’t think it’d look so …”

“So what? So gross? So disgusting? So deformed? What, Kai? Tell me!”

Tears swell in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare cry!”

“I’m sorry, Viv. Maybe we should wait—”

“No.” I pull my hair over my shoulder so he has an unobstructed view of my back. “Take a good long look because this is the last time you’ll see it. The last time I’m going to put up with that pathetic pity in your eyes.”

“Viv, don’t.”

I grab my dress and slip it back on.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m taking my virginity and what’s left of my pride as far away from you as possible. Hell, I’m taking my freakin’ virginity to my grave someday!”

“Vivian!”

“Take your sorry ass someplace else. I’m not going to be part of your pity party. Not now, not ever! I can’t change what happened and neither can you. Your incessant apologies have been eating me alive, but that look … you gutted me with that ONE! Single. Look.”

* * *

Present Day

“Kate’s leaving for Italy with her parents in the morning. I’m yours for a month.” Kai swaggers in the house and plunks himself down on the couch.

“It’s laughable that you think I want to hang out with your boring ass for the next month. And come on in, by the way, have a seat, make yourself at home.”

He laughs while propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Thanks, I think I will. Why don’t you grab me a beer?”

“Get it yourself, bitch.” I smack his feet off the table. “It’s been a long day. I just want to fall into bed not babysit you. What are all your frat boys doing tonight?”

“Vacationing or getting laid.”

“Who’s vacationing or getting laid?” Alex asks, tossing her bag by the door.

“Apparently, everyone but Kai.” I give him a gleam of devilry.

“And Viv.” He smirks back.

Harnessing all the maturity I can find, I stick my tongue out at him. “Who put you in charge of my hymen? Maybe I’ve already gotten laid. It’s not like I’d send out a text or anything.”

Kai rolls his eyes.

“Flower, is there something you’re not telling me?” Alex raises a single brow.

“No, there’s nothing she’s keeping from you. Trust me, if there were, she sure as shit wouldn’t let you call her that damn nickname!”

I walk toward the front door, smacking Kai on the back of the head. “Don’t be so sure.”

“Hey, where are you going?” Kai jumps up ready to follow me like the lost puppy he’ll be for the next month.

“I need tampons, but I’d love the company.”

He collapses back down on the couch with a dragged-his-blanket-in-the-dirt look. “I think I’ll stay with Alex.”

“I’m just grabbing some clean clothes and heading back to Sean’s. Sorry, Kai Pie.” Alex sticks out her pouty lower lip as she passes him to go upstairs.

Kai grabs his bag and follows me out the door. “You know the only name I hate more than Flower is Kai Pie. Pencil me in for dinner tomorrow.”

I waltz off in the opposite direction. “Sorry, I’m busy.”

“See you at seven,” he yells.

I amble around the block and head back inside. The tampons were a decoy. I needed to ditch Kai for the night. As much as I love my best friend, he’s still selfish and needy, especially when Kate is gone. I’m not ruling out dinner tomorrow, but tonight I don’t have the energy or patience to deal with my clingy friend.

“For someone who’s known you for nearly sixteen years, I find it ironic that he doesn’t know you stock tampons like survivors of the depression stock food.” Alex laughs, grabbing a bottle of wine out of the fridge.

I lean against the kitchen island. “I’m a terrible friend aren’t I?”

Alex hugs me. “Not to me, Flower.”

“I’m hungry and tired.”

“Then eat and sleep. I’ll see you Sunday.” Alex snatches her bag and gives me a wink.

My hunger can wait. Pulling my canvas bag out of the entry closet, I head out front and sit on the steps. This isn’t my usual location, but now I have this desire to people watch. Okay, maybe person watch. Pulling out my ball of yarn and needles, I resume my recent knitting project: mittens. I took up knitting after I declared to keep my virginity indefinitely. It’s not sexy, but it keeps me focused, and I like the euphoria I get from completing a project. My family and friends are usually the lucky recipients of my crafty work. My dad said he felt like an eighty-year-old man when I gave him a blanket for Christmas, but I know he uses it to keep warm while he lounges in his leather recliner watching his Giants play.

Minutes morph into hours and it’s nearly too dark to see what I’m doing. I’m sure I’ve dropped more than one stitch. Just as a twinge of disappointment hits me, I see Oliver. He’s getting out of a black BMW in front of his condo. Yes, I’ve been waiting hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but now that he’s here I feel ridiculous. As he looks in my direction, I drop my head back to my project.

A rapturous buzz seizes my nerves as he nears.

“I’m not sure what’s most odd about this situation.”

I glance up with owl eyes as if I’m really surprised to see him. “Excuse me?”

He sits down beside me as I shove my yarn back into the bag. His clean pine and sandalwood scent wafts near my nose, and in spite of the cool breeze that’s crept in over the past hour, my skin flushes with heat from his close proximity.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a knitter.”

I shrug. “A lot of younger women knit these days. It’s therapeutic, like meditation.”

“You always knit in the dark?” He edges closer, giving me a toothy smile that pulls in those damn dimples.

“Well, um … Most of it’s by feel and it hasn’t been dark that long. I was just getting ready to go inside.” My stomach growls in angry protest; it’s a beastly noise. I squirm while my crimson face prunes.

“Whoa!” He laughs.

Hugging my arms around my stomach, I try to physically strangle it into silent submission. “I’m a little hungry. I sort of skipped dinner.” It’s possible my decision to skip dinner in favor of the late neighborhood watch shift was a teensy bit rash.

“Come on.” He stands and gestures toward his condo with his head. “I just had dinner at my parent’s house and my mom sent me home with way too many leftovers. You like Tilapia, new potatoes, and asparagus?”

A wary smile escapes. “Yes, but—”

“It’s not a date, Vivian. It’s leftovers. Nothing I haven’t done for stray animals.”

Standing tall, I cock my head to the side. “Are you implying I’m a stray animal?”

He shakes his head and offers his hand. “Come on, stop reading into everything I say.”

Staring at his hand for a brief moment, I place mine in it and let him guide me across the street. I’m trying hard not to read into the myriad of physical sensations that his touch evokes. My pulse pounds, heart gallops, and butterflies awaken in my stomach as the warmth from his hand sends a tingling sensation up my arm. Rarely do I not feel tall and lanky, like I want to slouch down to keep from standing out in a crowd, but right now I feel petite and feminine in his lofty presence. He grabs a brown bag out of the back of his car before we head inside.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asks while spooning out food onto a plate.

I smack my lips together. “No, I’d better not. I’m kind of a lightweight and there’s the long trip home and all …”

I love the sound of Oliver’s laugh; it’s genuine and spontaneous, like he’s trying to hold it back but can’t. “Water, then?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He sets my plate on the woven gun metal gray placemat and pulls out a chair for me.

“This is weird eating by myself. Are you just going to watch me?” My lips set into a grim line.

“Nope.”

I hear the bag rustling, then he sits down across from me with a square glass container and a spoon.

“What’s that?” I ask after swallowing a bite of the best fish I have ever tasted.

“Strawberry-rhubarb cobbler. I was full after dinner so I took my dessert to go.”

“Mmm, looks good.”

“It is. My mom is an amazing cook,” he mumbles behind a napkin while wiping his mouth.

“I’ll second that.” I gesture to the plate with my fork. “This is the best Tilapia I have ever had.”