However, there was still something that held her back.
"Or at least mostly right." She pulled her hand from his bare skin. "I think I just need to figure out who I am first." She stared at his chest, afraid if she looked him in the eyes, she'd turned candy apple red again.
Unfortunately, he raised his hand and tilted her head back and forced her to look at him.
"I know who you are, Kylie. You're warm, funny, and beautiful. You are so good to everyone, everyone likes you. And you've got tons of spunk. I really like spunk."
"I mean what I am," she corrected, feeling his fingers brushing against her neck.
"What you are doesn't matter. Because what you are isn't going to change who you are." He dropped his hand from her chin. "And I'm not saying this to rush you to have sex. I just want you ... I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I wish you could see how special you are. And I don't care what you turn out to be."
Tears prickled her eyes and she wrapped her arm around his naked torso and pressed her cheek against his warm wall of chest that smelled clean, soapy, and moist. "You're the one who's special," she whispered. "Nope," he answered, and chuckled. "If I was special I wouldn't be thinking about how I could change your mind about having sex right now. So let's get out of this room before I decide to tackle you on my bed."
She laughed and looked up into his eyes.
He smiled and ran his hand up under her shirt and to her bare back where he cupped his hand in the curve of her naked waist. "That whole breaking the door down was really a turn-on."
"And not the fact that you were naked?" Had she said that? Instantly, she wished the floor would swallow her up.
"Nope, it was definitely the door thing. Now if you'd been naked..." He let go of a deep gulp of air. "Okay, we'd better quit talking about this."
He pulled away from her, caught her hand, and tugged her out of his bedroom.
She let him lead her out into the living room. He eyed the couch and then looked back at her. His eyes looked heavy, sleepy, and hot.
"Almost as bad as the bed."
She grinned and he pulled her out onto the front porch. He slipped on his shirt, then dropped down and leaned against the cabin on the bloodfree end of the porch. Once settled, he looked up and patted the spot on the porch beside him. She lowered herself beside him, and scooted over so her arm was against his. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she said, "Thanks."
He shifted and lifted his hand around her shoulder and pulled her a tad closer. "You're welcome."
Neither of them said anything for several minutes. She just sat there, close and absorbing the feel of him beside her. Questions tumbled around her head like a pair of tennis shoes in the dryer. But embarrassment kept her from voicing them.
"Go ahead and ask it," he said, almost as though he was reading her thoughts.
She raised her head off his shoulder. "Ask what?"
"Whatever it is that's making you feel embarrassed and curious. I can read your emotions, remember?"
She frowned. "And I hate that, too. I don't want you reading me."
"But I can't help it. I don't know how to not read you." He chuckled and looked down at her. And just like all the other times they were together, the night had a fairy-tale feel about it. The stars twinkled like diamonds in the sky. The trees looked too full. The moon, less than a week from being full, gave off enough light that she could see his face. "I think you're going to have a bruise." She touched the side of his nose. He caught her hand in his and kissed the inside of her hand. "So, what is it that's making you embarrassed and curious?"
"I'm just..." If she didn't tell him now, he'd probably envision the worst. Then again, what she was curious about might be the worst. "Just ask me." He nudged her with his shoulder.
She hesitated and then just blurted it out. "I'm curious about how many girls you've been with. I know you're almost eighteen and..." Her words faltered. Kylie knew he wasn't a virgin, and not just because he'd said something that led her to believe it, but just how ... he kissed. His brow crinkled and she could tell he wished he hadn't pushed her to ask.
"Oh," he said.
"Oh?" she repeated. And now more than ever she wanted an answer.
"You made me ask, now you have to answer."
He hesitated. "A few."
"That's vague." She pulled her fingers from his.
He breathed in and then out. "Okay, four."