. . unless you want chocolate or strawberry. Do you even know if you want chocolate or strawberry?”
I picture the artisan ice cream shop down the street. “Honestly, I kind of like that birthday cake with blueberry flavor at Salt and Straw.”
Perri holds up her hands. “My point exactly. Have you ever had birthday cake with blueberry flavor in bed?”
I blink. “What would that even be?”
“Not missionary, that’s all I know.”
I laugh. “That’s for sure. I tried to get Phillipe to mix it up. One time, I thought I would go all sexy on him. I took the initiative and dressed in come-hither lingerie—a white demi-cup bra and high-cut panties, and I climbed on top of him in bed when he was reading.”
“And what did the missionary man do?”
I snort at the memory. “He said something sexy in French, and I was sure I was finally going to learn what it was like to be thrown down on the bed, to be yanked up on all fours. Hell, to have my ass smacked, and my hair pulled, and my panties ripped off.”
“Uh. Yeah.”
I shake my head as I recall what went down. “Instead, he tossed his book to the side, slid me underneath him, and made love to me, whispering sweet nothings in French the whole time.”
“Boring. But the French dirty talk is a nice touch, so we can’t dock him all the points.”
“True. He deserves a minor commendation for his ability to say swoony things, like je te veux tellement. But being taken would have been better, right?”
“Mais oui.” Perri laughs. “I can absolutely confirm that being taken is often better than being talked to. Give me a strong, silent, tatted-up man on a motorcycle who throws me down on the couch, and all he has to do is grunt, Fuck. Now.”
“A caveman is all you require?”
She shrugs in a way that conveys her answer. “Pretty much.”
I pat her shoulder. “I’ll be on the lookout for you.”
“And what about you? What do you want?”
I let her question marinate, trying to figure out what I’m missing. “I don’t need to be Christian Grey’s plaything, and I don’t want to be tied up in the Red Room. But that’s what stung about David’s parting words. He never gave me the chance.” I flash back to that day at Silver Phoenix Lake, but further too, back to all the days with him. “Though, honestly, I never took the chance either. I never asked for anything else. And I honestly wouldn’t mind finding out if other positions are how they make them out to be in books.”
“I bet Mr. Businessman would have helped you find out.”
I sigh. “Now I’ll never know what Mr. Businessman really wants, or if he likes birthday cake sex.”
She nudges me. “Also, seriously. How did you miss the signs? The dude bought Hidden Figures and The Nightingale and asked your opinion on them, and you didn’t realize he was asking you out?”
I offer up a lame, “He might have been buying them for a girlfriend.”
“And tonight you learned he was buying them as conversational lubricant to talk to you.”
We reach our favorite bar and head inside, where I order a white wine and she asks for a beer.
She taps the bar. “I think it’s time to find out if you have a little Ana in you.”
“Whoa. I am not submissive.”
“Hello! I meant the sexy elevator kiss. It’s time to find out if you’d like being kissed hard in an elevator.”
My body tingles with the memory of that scene. The way he grabbed her wrists. Pinned them above her head. He took her kiss. “Yes, please. I’ll have one hot, sexy elevator kiss to go. Trouble is, how do I get it? You’re bold enough to ask out guys you like. How do you do it?”
“I’m naturally a big mouth. But bear in mind, there’s a flip side. A lot of guys think because I have a badge and a uniform, that means I want to lock them up and throw away the key, or be smacked with a billy club.”
“But don’t you just love all that?”
“I like other things, and I often ask for it. My point is this.” She tips her beer bottle in my direction. “The next time a hottie in your bookstore asks you out, say yes. It’s that simple.”
But is it? Is it truly that simple? I wish I could feel as comfortable with other guys as I do with Gabe. Maybe then I’d have