Page 38 of Lights, Camera, Love

“Well, I’m glad you finally got to say what you wanted, and I hope you never have to see that bloody bastard again.”

I shrugged, not feeling remotely badass. Just sad and with the adrenaline crashing, I felt like I’d been awake and on a work-bender for days. Granted, I had eased up a bit since So Free started doing so well, but back when I first started the brand, I worked relentlessly, exhausting myself to make sure everything was perfect.

“So, there are two other things we should probably talk about,” Oliver said, tilting my chin until I was looking into his eyes. “The first being about what happened last night, and the second is whether you feel comfortable going on a date with Aaron.”

Let’s see, we can either talk about me faking an orgasm or going on a date with a guy I had no idea was even remotely interested in me, while kinda-sorta already dating two of the five guys here. All I need is Zander and Daniel lined up in the queue, and I’ll be batting a thousand. Decisions, decisions.

“I honestly don’t know why he picked me. It seemed like he was just sticking it to Ryan after the metaphorical dick measuring; I’m sure that’s all it is. Kayla’s getting ready to rake her nails across my face for it, so I’m not feeling exceptionally grateful at the moment. Because, well, Ryan lives in LA and is already halfway there. The threat of him is gone. Living with Kayla after this is going to be difficult.”

Oliver chuckled and ran a hand over the back of his neck. I was quickly learning that it was his tell when he was unsure or uncomfortable. “I fear his picking you is my fault, but we won’t know anything until we talk to him, so it’s all conjecture at this point. Aaron, Zander, and I were working out this morning, and, dare I say it, we’re friends. I’m pretty sure most of it was because we’d been talking about exploring other options in the house. Not that I actually want to do that, but we got to talking and it just kind of spiraled from there.

“In any case, I’m glad he picked you as a big ‘fuck you’ to your ex. None of us want to see any of you spoken to that way, and Ryan can spend the boat ride back to Haiti knowing that his words ensured you a date with someone else from the house. If he was mad that you were seeing both Diego and me before, this must really be bugging him.”

I doubted Ryan would see it as his own damned fault, but it was fun to imagine the guilt eating at him the entire way home.

He relaxed against the cushions and let his hand settle on my thigh. “Should we talk about the other thing, or are you not ready for that yet?” he asked. His voice was gentle and tranquil. He wasn’t pushing me to answer or justify my actions, and it was such anOlivermove that it made me want to open up. Fear of being judged by him and the viewers melted away and was replaced by acceptance.

“It’s embarrassing and makes me feel self-conscious. That’s not to say I didn’t love what we did last night. I did, I absolutely did,” I emphasized. “And I want to do it again. It’s just the… um… I got distracted. My head thinks of the most random things. I can get right up to the edge, but my body refuses to fling itself off.”

“Do you want statistics or comfort?” Oliver asked.

My frown twitched, the corners of my lips trying to pull up. Because, of course, he had orgasm statistics.

“Can I have both?” I asked.

“Of course you can, love. You only need to ask.”

Oliver pulled me closer, taking me under his arm and letting his hand trace circles on my shoulder. His head tilted until his cheek was resting on the top of my head. “I have one question before we move on to the statistics portion of our day,” he said seriously. I laughed, inviting him to ask away. “Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“Yes. It just doesn’t always happen with a partner.Okay, it never happens with a partner.”

“Then your lovers were selfish pricks,” he said, squeezing me tighter against him. He began regaling me with his backlog of statistics about how often women don’t find their release with their partners. It was clinical in its delivery, but somehow, that made me feel less alone.

“Vaginal intercourse, hand stimulation, and oral stimulation are the three most common ways for anyone to achieve an orgasm. Around fifty percent of women achieve an orgasm from vaginal penetration alone. Hand stimulation and vaginal intercourse is right around seventy percent, while hand, oral, and vaginal intercourse still only results in around eighty-six percent. Five percent of women never orgasm at all, but since you’re able to self-stimulate, you’re somewhere in the other percentages. Men, however, range from ninety to ninety-eight percent using any or all methods of stimulation.”Lucky bastards.“Another thing to consider is stress. When did you start your business?”

“Right out of college,” I answered. “But I’d been creating since high school.”

“Exactly. Stress plays a big factor, and many people struggle with finding a balance of work and pleasure. When you’re creating a business and liable for its success, that’s a lot of pressure, and it can permeate other areas of life, including one’s sex life.”

As he explained, I didn’t feel like a freak for my lack of the big O. He assured me half a dozen times that I was certainly not alone in this. If nothing else, I hoped the audience members who dealt with the same thing would feel some comfort or solidarity as well.

I always believed this was just the way sex was for me. I knew the female orgasm was more complicated than the male’s, but learning that so many women experienced the same issues made me feel less alone.

We spent the rest of the afternoon cuddling on the patio set, then having a conversation with Diego. Eventually, we ended up by the pool, and the guys did wonders for making me forget the drama Ryan had stirred up. The day flew by in a whirlwind of flirty touches and joyous smiles until the sun began to set and I had to go get ready.

* * *

I’d twistedmy hair into a mermaid braid and opted for a maxi dress for my date with Aaron tonight. I was meeting him in the kitchen, and as I rounded the corner, my wedge heel clunked on the floor.

Three heads turned my direction. Aaron was standing with Oliver and Diego by the fridge, a beer in each of their hands. There was no animosity between the three of them, which lifted a weight that had settled in over the day. Oliver, and then later, Diego, had assured me it was fine, but I didn’t fully believe it until now.

“Soph, you look incredible,” Diego said, swallowing roughly.

Oliver repeated the sentiment, both of their compliments bolstering my confidence. I looked at myself, smoothing my hands over the royal blue material hugging my figure. “Thanks! It’s from the spring line this year.”

It felt weird to constantly be sayingmy brand, my brand, my branduntil I was blue in the face, so I made a conscious choice to tone it down. Es was handling the socials, and without paying for product placement, I didn’t even know if they would air it when I said that or mentioned the brand at all. It was time to lay off of it and let my partner do the heavy lifting on socials while I lived my best life on the island.

Aaron cleared his throat, drawing my attention to him. He was wearing a pair of navy Dockers and a short-sleeved white linen shirt that was only buttoned halfway. His messy red hair was artfully strewn about as if he’d been raking his fingers through it.

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