Page 5 of Naughtying Up St. Nick

“All right.” Harlow settles back against his seat but turns to face me. “Tell me what the hell that was about.”

My throat is tight as I pull the gloves on, taking longer than necessary so I can have a minute to think. But even that’s a bad idea because I don’t really want to think about what I said outside his truck.

“Cal,” he prompts when I’ve been silent too long. “You can’t just say something like that and then not give an explanation.”

“Okay, okay. Could you just…not look at me while I say it?” It’s such a childish question to ask, but I’m so far out of my element right now. I need to take back some semblance of control before I freak out.

“Okay,” Harlow says, no judgement in his tone. “I’m not looking at you.”

I swallow hard and stare out the window at the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree farm. “I was hoping you would help me with this…problem. The last guy I slept with, he broke up with me because he said I wasn’t…great in bed. And if you laugh at me, I swear to God—”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Harlow interrupts, his voice serious. “I think that guy sounds like a complete prick.”

“I thought that too at first. But maybe I’m wrong.”

“What about the other guys you slept with?” Harlow asks. “If they didn’t say anything similar, then you should just forget about what your ex said.”

“Yeah…he was my first.” I mumble the last part. It’s not that I’m ashamed of waiting until I was out of high school, it’s just that Harlow was always so cool about stuff like this. I think he’d had sex before we even started high school. Even now, I envy the confidence he has about himself.

“Seriously?” Harlow asks, surprised. “You waited and then gave it up to a jackass like that?”

“He might not be a jackass,” I protest. “He could be right. And I want to have another relationship in grad school, but if I don’t know if Jesse was telling the truth or not, it’s going to hang over me whenever I talk to another guy. So…”

“So you want me to have sex with you and tell you what I think?”

“Yes?” It comes out sounding like way more of a question than a confirmation, but I’m too fucking nervous right now.

“Why me? Because I’ve slept with half the town?”

I’m dying a little to ask if it really is half the town. I mean, it is a small town. But I don’t push it.

“No,” I say instead. “It’s because you’re honest, and I’m comfortable around you. Even when we were at odds back in school, I was comfortable around you. If you don’t want to, I get it. I shouldn’t have even said anything.”

He’s quiet for a long minute, and my anxiety skyrockets.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” I say it in a whisper, but the silence is already so thick that it sounds more like a shout.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Harlow says. “I’m just thinking.”

As much as it kills me to sit in the silence, I do. Even though it’s fucking awkward.

I keep my gaze trained on the twinkling lights in the distance and calm my nerves by counting my breaths. How long does it take someone to decide if they want to have sex or not? I’m no expert, but it’s not that hard of a decision, right?

“Okay,” Harlow says when I feel as though I can’t stand the silence anymore. “I’ll help you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But I want to talk about some ground rules. Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in and text you my address. Come over before work tomorrow and we’ll talk.”

I give him my phone, the shaking in my hands still visible even with the gloves on.

“Why’re you so nervous?” Harlow asks, entering his number into my phone. “It’s just me.”

He says it like this is the most normal situation in the world. Like maybe he meets people every day who blurt out that they want to have sex with him. Maybe he does.

“I don’t know. It’s kind of a weird thing to ask someone.”

He shrugs. “Not really. If you think about it, we kind of ask that question in a way whenever we start dating someone. You were just more…direct about it.”

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