“Honestly, practicing with someone I have no emotional attachments to,” I answered. “Someone who I like enough that I’d want to be intimate with them, but not so much that I’d be afraid to fail. That unicorn doesn’t exist, but it would be awesome if he did.”
Loud footsteps approached in the hallway. A moment later, Jackson’s lean frame pushed the door open.
“Oh, hey.” He was startled at the gaggle. “I was looking for Kat.”
“I’m in the middle of psycho-analyzing Peyton.” She winked, letting me know she was teasing.
“I’ll leave you to it.”
“You can stay,” I said, leaning forward.
Despite being mildly intimidated when he was around, I also felt safe. He knew the most shameful part of me and he’d not only accepted it without judgment, but he’d been supportive from the moment I ran into him at the elevator. And it was endearing that he still held a flame for Kat. He was human after all.
Jackson appeared pleased to be invited into the inner sanctum and poured a beer from the tap. The only two free seats were oversized beanbag chairs and the other hammock. He chose the beanbag.
“Peyton’s explaining how she thinks she can gain confidence about sex,” Katrina said.
To Jackson’s credit, he sat back in that ridiculous chair that swallowed half his body, and emoted nothing but interest.
“And how’s that?” Jackson asked.
“Whenever I struggle with something, I read, study, and practice until I master it,” I explained, and Selena nodded, agreeing with my self-assessment.
“Freshman year when I met her, Peyton was a hot mess.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled.
“Selena practically lived in my tiny shared dorm room, since her roommate was always having sex with her boyfriend in their room,” I said. “And yes. I was a hot mess.”
“You were so adorable.” Selena playfully nudged my shoulder. “She wore a uniform of black leggings and sweatshirts or loose t-shirts and old scuffed up Doc Martens. Her eyeliner only went halfway along her eyelashes and she thought wearing a bucket of blush would make up for her pale skin.”
I shook my head, remembering. Selena only wore clothes that hugged her body, the fabric like a python squeezing its kill.
“I liked comfort.” I tugged at my hem. “I still do. And my mother was always the center of attention. I tried to hide in the background.”
“But we got you out of your shell. With the assistance of some fashion influencers that helped cultivate your style.”
Once I realized I’d been using those baggy clothes to detach myself from my mother whose favorite outfit was a bandage dress or nothing, I was excited to express myself through clothes. “I tried all the trends until I was confident I’d found my style and knew how to put it together.”
Selena nodded, remembering all the great and horrible trends I’d explored. After normcore, boho, and emo, I landed on casual chic.
“That’s what I want to do with sex.” I raised my arms. “I want to explore it with a safe person until I master it.”
“Where are you going to find this person?” Selena said. “Deep in the bowels of Craigslist?”
I sank back, I wasn’t about to go on Tinder or Hinge or whatever app was hot right now and find some rando to teach me.
Jackson’s phone buzzed and he stepped out of the room, raising his hand in apology.
“Jackson could do it,” Kat said, her gaze where he’d been sitting. I couldn’t tell if she was joking.
My fingers ran over my lips, wondering what a kiss from him would taste like. Selena caught my eye and smiled knowingly. I dropped my hands.
“Hear me out,” Kat said. “It’s only if both of you agreed, of course.”
“No way,” I said.
I glanced at the open doorway, worried Jackson would come back to this insanity. Except, part of me didn’t think it was that insane.