Page 18 of About That Night

“Yes. Does that bother you?”

“What? No. I’m just surprised.”

“Ah, I see. You want to be seen around town with me for a week or two, then I will disappear, and you’ll be free to date whoever you want. With me living here, that might be awkward.”

I haven’t even thought that far ahead. I shake my head. “That’s not it. I just…”

His hand is somehow suddenly on my knee. “What? You can tell me. You can tell me anything.”

“I want to have sex with you,” I blurt out.

Hank doesn’t even miss a beat. He immediately stands up, pulling his wallet out of his pocket to pay his tab. “Let’s go then.”

That makes me laugh. “I didn’t mean right now. I mean that I can’t have sex with you, and it’s going to be really darn hard to resist you if you’re always around. It’s a challenge I didn’t know I was facing, but don’t worry. I feel confident I can stay strong.”

Mostly. My confidence level is hovering around eighty percent.

“Oh, goodie,” Hanks says, sitting back down with a hard plunk. “Just what I wanted to hear.” He lifts his glass. “Explain to me one more time, slowly, just to make sure I understand this fully because I’m struggling, but why can’t we have sex? We’ve already had sex. We’re not breaking some kind of seal here. We done broke it, Chastity.” He’s turned up his backwater drawl. “We crossed the line, we got carried away, we went overboard. All in. I know what you look like naked. I’ve tasted you.”

That makes me suck in a breath. My nipples tighten. Hank looks grumpy as hell and he keeps glancing at my mouth. He’s tall and muscular, but on the leaner side, unlike his brothers, and right now he’s in a T-shirt that displays his multiple tattoos. He has dimples,and blue eyes, and brown hair that’s shorter now than when we were younger. Back then, it had fallen forward and tickled my thighs when he went down on me. Long hair, short, in-between, it doesn’t matter. I’m not sure he could actually be any hotter.

When I was in middle school, he was the high school quarterback, and I had a crush on him. A big, swelling, irrational crush where he was going to take one look at me, fall madly in love with me, and take my virginity in a glorious haze of pleasure. It’s half the reason I went out for cheerleading, because his high school girlfriend was a cheerleader. I thought that made me a lock for winning his heart.

But then he went away to college and I grew up, though I didn’t gain any sense, and when I was eighteen, I got a quarter of the equation. He didn’t fall in love with me, and he was four weeks behind my virginity being taken, but it was a glorious haze of pleasure.

I’ve already explained to him why I can’t have sex with him. I’m not sure what saying it again will matter. “I shouldn’t have brought up sex again. This is why I need a dating coach. I can’t say things like ‘I want to have sex with you’ and then follow it right up with ‘Oh, but sorry, I can’t.’”

That’s not fair to Hank or any other man I might be attracted to at some future date. It’s clear I have no idea what I’m doing and I never have.

“The horse already got let out of the barn,” he adds. “And we can’t shove him back in.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “Every day, people put their horses back in the barn. They just open the door, and the horse goes right back on in. We can do that too.”

He makes a face. “But wait, are you the barn? Am I the horse? The metaphor is getting muddled, and so is this damn conversation.”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t have said it like that, that I want to…you know. It just caught me off guard that you’ve moved back home. I didn’t know that when I asked you to help me.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, I glance at my phone, feeling awkward. “I should go,” I tell him. “It’s late, and I have to work at eight tomorrow.”

“Sure. I’ll walk you to your car.” He stands up but he leaves his phone and drink on the bartop.

“You’re not leaving?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. I’m going to hang out with Conway.”

“Right.” I stand up and pull my purse off the back of my chair. I pull my wallet out to pay for the sweet tea.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hank says. “I’ve got it.”

I wave to Conway, then we start across the bar. Hank puts his hand on the small of my back, but then immediately drops it.

He opens the door for me, and I go through, grateful for the cool air. There’s a new bite in the air that indicates we may eventually get something that mimics winter. I unlock my car.

Hank opens the door for me. I slip behind it but hesitate. I shouldn’t say anything because I can’t seem to open my mouth without making it worse, but I want him to understand. I can’t stand the thought that he’s annoyed with me.

“Hank, it’s just that I’m scared because bad things happen when I…get carried away. The first time with you, well, Faith and all the other girls hated me afterwards. Then, after New Orleans, Miss Loretta, who’s been like a surrogate grandmother to me, wound up in a nursing home.”

He just stares at me, silent, though his eyebrows shoot up.

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