Page 56 of Last Light

Six

WE LIE NAKED ON THEsheet and recover for a few minutes. I hear his breathing slow down and his body cools a bit.

So does mine.

Eventually I ask, “Do you ever still feel like a cigarette?”

He gives a soft snort of surprised amusement. “Not as much as I thought I would. I was tryin’ to stop when Grace was born. Got down to just one or two a day. Outside where the smoke wouldn’t...”

He trails off, but I know what he’s saying.

He was quitting smoking for his daughter.

And now his daughter is dead.

“Then, afterward, never had the time to think about smokin’ much even if there was any cigarettes around.” He folds one arm up under his head and looks at me. “But if I ever wanted a cigarette again, now would be the time.”

I smile at the warm glint in his eye.

His eyes move lower down my body, and he hefts himself to his feet and pulls on his underwear. “Lemme get a towel. Made a mess on you.”

He did make a mess on me. His come is spattered all over my belly. I’m not exactly sure what to do with it, so I just wait until he brings a towel over—we hung it up earlier, but it’s still slightly damp—and wipes my stomach.

His hand slows but doesn’t pull away. He’s not meeting my eyes. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course.” I have no idea what to expect, but my heartbeat accelerates.

“Was this... just now... Was it your first time?”

I tense up and push away the towel. I check between my legs, but it doesn’t look like I bled. I sit up and pull the sheet to cover myself with. “You could... you could tell?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s still not looking at me.

“Was I... was I that bad?”

His eyes fly up. “No! Course not. You were... great. I’s just... wonderin’.” His accent is thick, and his words stumble.

I relax and try to smile. “Can you hand me that blue T-shirt?”

He gets up to grab it as I slide my panties back on. When I’ve got the shirt on, I make room for him on the edge of the bed.

“Should I not have asked?” He’s looking at me now, so that’s something.

“It’s fine to ask. I just didn’t want to... to be bad at it.”

“You weren’t bad at it. It was good.”

“I thought so too.” I gnaw on my lower lip for a few seconds. “It was my first time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

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