Page 43 of Blue Moon Love

I rolled my neck back and forth as I started the ignition. My shoulders ached. My feet hurt. Tonight had been long. Very long. Exhaustion pulled on me as I clicked my seatbelt into place and headed home.

Last night, after I’d pleasured myself, I’d fallen off to a deep sleep only to be woken up by Winnie, who had to use the bathroom an hour later. After I came back to bed, I hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep. My mind was too busy processing the events that had unfolded. Not only did Sam know I still had my V-card, he also knew I was actively trying to hand it in. I spent all night into the wee hours of the morning trying to figure out how that was going to play out between us.

Tonight, I found out. Sam had always been protective of me, but his attitude at the bar tonight had been over the top. He’d been a bull ready to charge, and every man who looked in my direction was a red cape. I knew that we’d have to talk about this. I would need to tell him that he couldn’t come into my work and try to intimidate my customers. In truth, he’d always done a little bit of that, but tonight it had been too much.

My only hope was that now that he was on the mend and back to work, he’d forget about my situation and get distracted by the next shiny thing he saw, which would probably be a hot blonde.

But he hadn’t seemed at all interested in any of the four women who had propositioned him tonight. Could it be true that he hadn’t had sex in over a year? That seemed impossible. Now that I thought about it, he hadn’t been going out as much as he used to. He’d been over at my house nearly every one of my nights off. The only time he wasn’t was when he was on duty. But that had been the way things were for years. His social life had never really interfered with us hanging out, mainly because I worked at a bar, which meant I worked most Friday and Saturday nights.

I had no reason to think that Sam was lying to me about his extended celibacy. He never had before. Maybe he’d finally sown his last wild oat. No. No way. Even as I thought about it, I knew that was never going to happen.

Sam Whitlock was a confirmed bachelor. He didn’t have any interest in getting married, starting a family, or even being in a serious relationship. His stance on those things had never changed. No strings. No commitments. No attachments. No expectations. Those were his dating guidelines. Many a woman had tried to be the one who changed his mind, to be the exception to his rules, and they’d all failed.

As I turned the corner onto our street, my headlights shone on my front porch, and I saw Sam sitting on the top step. He lifted his head as the light hit him, and his expression looked…serious. My stomach had a funny feeling as I pulled into my driveway. The fatigue I’d been fighting all night was gone.

This wasn’t the first time I’d come home from work to find Sam waiting for me; it was just that usually he did it inside my house. He had a key, and he’d let himself in and make himself at home, snuggling on the couch with Winnie. Sometimes, he waited on his porch for me, but this time, he was on mine. He was not even on the swing; he was on the steps. It felt different. More intentional, somehow.

“Hey, are you okay? Is it your leg?” I asked as I climbed out of my Jeep.

I thought he was pushing himself too much. He’d worked the kissing booth yesterday, the day he’d gotten his brace off, and he was already back at work today. He was on desk duty, but still.

“Leg’s fine.” He stood as I started up the steps. “I wanted to finish our conversation.”

My heart was thudding in my chest wildly. The last conversation we’d had was about the women he’d not been dating over the past year. Was that what he wanted to talk about?

“What conversation?” I asked as I let us both into the house.

His answer was not immediately forthcoming because he was distracted by a wiggly bundle of fur in Corgi form. Winnie must have heard Sam out on the porch because she was even more psyched to see him than she normally was. I was apparently chopped liver because she’d barely acknowledged my existence at all.

Once Winnie was done greeting Sam and demanding his full attention, I let her out back to use the bathroom. When I turned around, Sam was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His hair was messy, which meant he’d been running his hands through it a lot. He only did that when he was thinking, or, should I say, overthinking something. Whatever he wanted to talk about was serious.

“Okay, so what’s up?” I asked.

“It should be me.”

My breath caught in my throat at what I thought he was suggesting. I couldn’t breathe, but I managed to ask, “What should be you?”

“Your first time. It should be with me.”

“You?” I couldn’t believe that he was saying that.

Was it because he felt sorry for me?

Was this a pity offer?

“Yes. Me.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because you…because I…”

“Exactly. You and I. Us. If it’s not me, who should it be?”

“You sound like Dr. Suess. That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Yes, it does.” He didn’t even crack a grin at my Dr. Suess reference like he normally would. He just stared at me intently. “You know it does.”

---