Page 47 of Those Who Are Bound

That answer appeared to please him. “My last relationship ended almostnine months ago. We were together five months, but it felt like too much of a process,” he said lightly. “No one’s fault. Just going through the motions, and the motions didn’t feel right.

“And on that note, because you’ve shared, I’m also clean, never had an STD, I’ve had nine partners—one an ex-wife, but we didn’t have children. I suppose our third date could be Planned Parenthood for a round of testing if you insist, but I’m not concerned. Birth control, we can discuss; we’ll need to.”

Elliott cast him an exasperated look, still picking at the pizza.

He raised an eyebrow at her lack of response. “Nothing? No reaction?”

The corners of her lips curving slightly, she asked, “What happened to the marriage?”

Satisfied, it was Jonah’s turn to shrug as though it wasn’t worth the discussion. “We were young and moved too fast. We didn’t know what consequences were.”

Elliott gave him a skeptical look. “And you’re slowing your roll now? We’re on our second date, and you’re talking about the future.”

Jonah teased her, “I haven’t added us to a wedding registry.” He reached over and picked up the slice she’d been picking at, handing it to her. “Just eat it.” He snagged another piece and bit into it as he watched her.

Elliott took a bite before asking, “How long were you married?”

“Eighteen months.”

“That’s… not long.”

“No, it wasn’t. We hadn’t even graduated from college yet.”

“Wow. I couldn’t imagine dealing with a spouse in college.”

“The town is small, inclusive; it seemed like the whole world was right there,” he explained. “Again, we were young. And, to be honest, she was saving herself for marriage so… we got married.”

Elliott gave him an incredulous smile. “You married her for sex?”

“Not entirely.”

“You pretty much just said that,” she pointed out in amusement.

He chuckled. “Kids aren’t forward-thinking at that age.”

Elliott made a face. “I wasn’t marrying anyone to get laid in college. Or… ever.”

“Hey, judgment-free zone,” he reminded her.

“I’m shocked, that’s all. I have no room to cast judgment on anyone for anything.”

“Who was your first?”

“She was your first, too?” The inflection in her tone went up, but she quickly held up a hand. “Sorry, withdrawn, although I’m understanding the rapid marriage now.” Looking heavenward, she quipped, “Thank god I went to my fancy private college in the big, bad city.”

“Hey!”

“Apparently ducks don’t fu—”

“Hey!” He laughed over her. “Answer my question.”

“High school. Florida. His name was Cort—I suppose it’s still Cort. He was the senior class president that year, and I was a freshman. He was blond, blue-eyed, and dressed like GQ. I was volunteering on his campaign for class president. He also ran track, so we had that in common. One day, after school, we were putting up posters, and then the next thing I knew, we were in the band room knocking over the music stands.”

“You lost your virginity in the band room?”

She made a face. “Yeah. I tried to wipe the blood out of the carpet afterward, but it was no use. Even with all of the carpet cleanings in that room, the entire time I was at that school, the spot remained.”

“What did he do?”

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