then he asked a quiet and polite, “Can I stay here a while?” and my insides melted into a pile of goop.
“Why aren’t you out with the guys?”
“I’m sick of those groupie bitches.”
“That’s not nice. Don’t say that.”
“They are bitches,” he stated. “They’re so rude. The things they say….” He shook his head. “No shit, you should hear some of the stuff that comes out of their mouths.” He turned to lie on his back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m over ‘em.”
Yeah. For tonight.
I thought about what he was saying. “Maybe you need something more meaningful, Connor.” When he turned to face me, I added, “Like a relationship.”
He blinked at me, paused, and then laughed. Loudly. “Emmy.” He sat up, chuckling. “Baby, do you even know me?” When I didn’t respond, he looked at me like I was crazy. “I don’t do relationships. Hell, I barely do friendship. I don’t want a relationship.” He made a face. “In all seriousness, there is nothing I want less than a girlfriend, all needy and jealous and shit. Ugh. No. Not for me, teeny thing.”
Fair enough.
Well, at least he was honest about it.
I turned my body to face him. “Well, then I guess you’re stuck with groupies because everyone knows who you are.”
“You didn’t.”
That was true. It was also a completely different situation. “Yeah, but all I had was my nanna. Basically all of my friends were geriatric, Connor. I watched Wheel of Fortune, I Love Lucy, and The Odd Couple. I didn’t know much or care about anything that was happening outside of my grandmother’s house. We listened to old records, not the radio. I was taught that gossip is cheap so I wasn’t allowed to buy trashy tabloids and I’d never even seen E! News.” I noticed he was watching me strangely. “I’m a one-off.”
He thought about that a minute. “That you are,” he muttered to himself, and I averted my gaze. When he asked, “Why are you holding onto your virginity?” I almost died.
My response was quick and far too loud. “I never said I was!”
Connor chuckled in a way that told me he’d expected some kind of outburst. “You didn’t have to.”
I was offended. “I’ve been with boys.” When he looked dubious, I stated sincerely, “I have!” But after a moment, I admitted a feeble, “It just never went… there.”
“So, you could’ve, but didn’t.”
It was difficult to explain but I did my best. “Let me tell you, there is nothing less sexy than watching your only family member deteriorate in front of your eyes. And I lived it every day. I didn’t have time for a boyfriend. I didn’t want a boyfriend. If I had one, that meant time away from Nanna and, honestly, I didn’t know how much longer I had with her, so…” This was a frustrating conversation. “I know you can’t possibly understand—”
But he cut me off with an earnest, “I understand.” When I threw him a suspicious look, he nodded and assured “I do. Really.”
Perhaps I had explained myself well enough. “Good.”
“So…” He looked me up and down then grinned. “Wanna make out?”
I was so tired. “Connor.” These jokes of his were wearing down my very soul.
“When’s the last time you were kissed?” To my surprise, he sounded dead serious. When I looked at him, he watched me carefully, waiting for a response.
“Um,” I started, paused, and then picked invisible lint off the comforter as I pulled up my knees. “A couple of years, I guess.” Apart from Pearl, that was.
His eyes widened. “How do you live?” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Fuck, you must jerk yourself like twelve times a day.”
“What?” I laughed but it was uncomfortable. “I don’t do that.”
“You’re twenty-four years old.” He looked like he wanted to strangle me. “What do you mean you don’t masturbate?”
Why was it an issue? More so, why were we talking about this?
I choked out the words. “This is really none of your business.”
This conversation was not happening.
“Don’t you miss that—” Connor kept his eyes on me and made a show of linking his fingers together in the air between us. “—human connection.”
Okay, so this conversation was happening. May as well be frank. “Well, sure, but it’s not something people need.” I corrected myself. “It’s not something I need.”
“It’s not about needing something, baby.” He reached over and touched my fingertip with his own, lightly caressing the delicate skin there. “Sometimes what you want is just as important.”
The expression I