Storm(17)

“Uh... she’s nineteen.”

“How old are you?”

“Are we playing twenty questions?”

“Yes! I’m bored. Just go with it.”

“How old do you think I am?”

I slap his hand that he has resting on my stomach. “You can’t answer a question with a question! You have to wait your turn.” He grabs my hand and holds onto it. “I’m thirty. Now, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-six.”

He lets out a whistle. “So you started dating your boyfriend when you were fourteen?”

“Yup.”

“That’s really frickin’ crazy.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s called commitment.”

His hand is big and warm. I slowly intertwine my fingers with his, the warmth flowing from him into me. He doesn’t pull away but starts to slowly rub his thumb along the top of mine. I feel tingly, and it’s probably wrong for us to be holding hands, but I don’t care right now. The warmth feels too good to let go.

“Is he the only guy you’ve ever been with?”

What? Did he seriously just ask me that?

“That’s a really rude question, Storm.”

“Why? It’s not rude. I’m just curious.”

“It’s very personal.”

“I’m going to take all this as the answer is yes, you’ve only fucked him.”

“So what, Storm? I’m not a slut. I don’t want to be sleeping with all sorts of men. I’ve never wanted that.”

“I know that. But don’t you ever just wonder what it would be like to be with another man?”