Page 59 of Purity

I run my palms over the skirt of my dress. The white nylon fabric is unwrinkled—pristine, just like my pure little life.

I hope he dirties it by the end of the night.

Just before I turn around and walk out of the bathroom, I grab the silver ring from the counter and slip it onto my finger.

In just a few minutes, everything this ring represents will be gone.

I smile as I walk out of the bathroom and into Cole’s bedroom. When he looks up from his phone, he smiles warmly. Thank God, he’s come out of his somber mood.

I’ll think about his marriage comment later. I already knew he was scared of commitment. It doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t take the risk of being in a relationship with me, especially if the next hour is as spectacular as I think it could be.

“You’re wearing white,” he says.

“Yeah, I want to recreate all the things I always planned to do on my first time, except I want it way, way filthier. I probably would have worn white lingerie on my wedding night, but this was the best I could do on short notice.” I lift my hand in the air. “I’m also wearing my purity ring. I would have given it to my husband before we had sex, but I think I’d rather wear it. It seems dirtier to have it on while you’re railing me.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “This is so fucked up.”

“You think so? Purity culture isn’t really Biblical, so it doesn’t feel like blasphemy to me, but we don’t need to do it like this if it creeps you out.”

“It doesn’t. You’re just so different than I thought you would be.” His smile grows lazy. “You’re kind of a little freak.”

“Only because you make me so comfortable.” After I plop down on the bed, I plant a kiss on his cheek. “Okay, I have one more thing to show you, and you’re going to die laughing.” I reach into the pocket of my dress and pull out the tattered paper. “I wrote a letter to my future husband when I was thirteen, and I want to read it to you.”

“Oh my God.”

I laugh. “I know. Just wait till you hear it. I spent so much time trying to word it eloquently, and it’s so basic. It also took me probably an hour to make all of my letters perfect, because I wanted it to look really pretty for my husband.”

“That’s kind of sweet.”

“Oh, it is. So sweet and so sad. Okay…” I take a deep breath as my gaze drops to the calligraphy letters. “‘Dear Future Husband. Today I made a promise to God that I would wait for you. I’m saving my first kiss and my first everything…’” I giggle. “Isn’t it so sad that I had to say ‘everything’ instead of ‘sex’? I couldn’t even write out the thing I was promising to save. Okay, I need to skip some of this because it’s a bunch of evangelical jargon. Oh, this is the best part right here. The ending. ‘I pray that you will wait for me too, but it’s okay if you don’t. You might be on a different journey than me, and I trust in God’s plan. No matter what happens in your life before we come together, know that I already love you with all of my heart, and I will love you forever.”

I let the paper fall to my lap, heat enveloping my chest. “It’s so embarrassing. Could there be any less sexy foreplay?”

When Cole stays silent, I turn to him. His brows are drawn together, and his gaze is unfocused. “I think it’s really sweet,” he finally says.

What is this shift in his mood? He looks more like he did an hour ago after that wretched conversation at the coffee shop.

“Sort of, but I didn’t really know what I was saying. All of these letters are very similar, because our youth pastors usually guide us on what to say. Most of the girls at my church wrote something like this.”

“Yeah, but I bet you really meant it. It’s very like you to love someone without them having to earn it, and to stick by them no matter what.”

I nod slowly. There’s no reason to tell him that I don’t think that part of me was ever healthy, or that I’m glad it’s starting to change. He’s clearly touched by my letter, and I don’t want to spoil the mood.

I’m startled when he grabs me by the shoulders and presses a hard kiss against my lips. His mouth moves to my jaw, and he starts trailing it down my neck. “You’re an angel,” he whispers against my skin.

“Mmm.” The bedroom version of his usual endearment is so much better than the earnest one. “That feels good.”

When his mouth returns to mine, he immediately slips his tongue inside. His kiss is frantic—almost desperate—as if he’s searching for something. When he sucks my lip into his mouth and bites down, I gasp. He stiffens before pulling away.

My gaze falls to his rapidly moving chest. “Sorry,” he says breathlessly. He turns away and runs both hands through his hair. “I’ve wanted this for five years. I think I’m losing my mind now that I’m about to get it. We might need to take breaks.”

“Cole, no. I don’t want you to stop yourself. I want you unhinged, like you were last night.”

He smiles warmly. “We can be rough after you’ve gotten used to sex, but not right now. I could hurt you.”

“I want you to be rough.”

He sighs heavily. “It was different last night. My tongue couldn’t hurt you.”

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