out of my mouth and stare at it. “So. Just so you’re aware. I’m a virgin.”
“I know a cure for that,” Miller says.
My eyes flash up to his, but then he laughs. “I’m kidding, Clara.” He leans toward me and kisses me on the shoulder. “I’m glad you told me. But I’m not in any hurry. At all.”
“Whatever. You’re used to getting it every weekend. You’ll eventually grow bored with not having sex, and you’ll go back to her.” I immediately cover my mouth with my hand. “Oh my God, why do I sound so insecure? Please pretend I didn’t just say all that.”
He laughs a little, but then he looks at me intently. “You don’t have to worry. I already get more out of not having sex with you than I did during my entire relationship with her.”
I like him so much. More than I thought possible. Every minute we spend together makes me like him more than I liked him the previous minute. “When I decide I’m ready . . . I hope it’s with you.”
Miller smiles at that. “Trust me—I’m not going to talk you out of it.”
I think about what our first time might be like. When it’ll be. I look over at him and grin. “Our first kiss was a cliché coffee shop kiss. Maybe losing my virginity should be cliché too.”
Miller raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know. They might ban us from Starbucks.”
I laugh. “I’m talking about prom. It’s five months from now. If we’re still together, I’d like it to be a cliché after-prom deflowering.”
My choice of words makes Miller laugh. He takes his sucker out of his mouth and grabs mine from my hand and sets them on the food tray. Then he leans in and kisses me, briefly. When he pulls back, he says, “You’re getting ahead of yourself. I haven’t even asked you to prom yet.”
“You should ask me, then.”
“You don’t want one of those elaborate promposals?”
I shake my head. “Promposals are stupid. I don’t want an elaborate anything.”
He hesitates, like maybe he doesn’t believe me. Then he nods once and says, “Okay, then. Clara Grant, will you go to prom with me and have cliché after-prom sex with me?”
“I would love to.”
Miller grins and kisses me. I kiss him back with a smile, but I can feel part of myself sinking.
Aunt Jenny would have loved this story.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MORGAN
My kitchen might be cleaner than it’s ever been. I’m not sure if it was because Jonah is an excellent cleaner (he cleaned the majority of it) or if it’s because he’s trying to erase any proof of that near kiss in the kitchen so that we don’t have a single reminder of it.
My guilt has been palpable since Clara left to go to the movies. Jonah must feel the same, because neither of us spoke as we cleaned. And as soon as Elijah began to wake up, I offered to feed him because Elijah is the only thing I feel like I’m doing right in my life. It seems he’s starting to recognize me because he smiles when he sees me.
I’ve been keeping him occupied in the living room for an hour now. Jonah cleaned the entire kitchen. I didn’t expect him to, and even told him not to worry about it at one point, but he kept cleaning. I would have done it, but I was honestly relieved when Elijah woke up. I’d rather not be in the same room as Jonah right now.
Elijah is getting stronger. I’m sitting back on the couch and holding him up while he pushes his legs against my stomach. I’m making baby sounds at him when Jonah carries my kitchen door to the garage.
Elijah yawns, so I pull him to my chest and pat him gently on the back. It’s past his bedtime, and despite the thirty-minute nap he took while Jonah and I destroyed the kitchen, Elijah still seems like he’s ready to pass out. He grows limp against my chest as he begins to fall into slumber. I press my cheek to the top of his head, wishing more than anything that I didn’t grow sad when I think about the hand he’s been dealt.
He’s lucky to have Jonah. A man who stepped up, knowing there’s a huge possibility he didn’t father him. I hope, for Jonah’s sake, that Elijah doesn’t resent him if he ever finds out. I hope it makes Elijah appreciate Jonah even more.