Page 91 of More Than Pen Pals

“No.” I’m mortified by the admission.

“Okay.” There’s no judgment in his tone. “Are you nervous about it?”

“A little.” A lot, to be honest. “But she doesn’t want to yet.” I’m not fully sure what to make of that, though in a way it’s a relief.

“That’s good.”

I finally look at him. “You think so?”

“Yep. In my experience, when you get too physical too fast, that messes with the other dynamics of a relationship. You two don’t know each other all that well—at least not as adults. You need time to get reacquainted without the distraction of the physical stuff. It’s hard to separate your true thoughts and feelings from your hormones if you let them run wild.”

“When did you become so wise?” I ask.

“It’s that extra year I have on you. Now, when you’re both ready—even if that’s your wedding night, which is perfectly acceptable—if you’re still nervous about it, come talk to me. Okay?”

I’m blown away by how understanding he’s being about this and by how much confidence his words have given me. “Okay. Thanks.”

The women enter the room giggling about something. I’m pretty sure Randall and I were talking low enough to not be overheard, so I hope I’m in the clear. At some point I need to tell Leslie what I admitted to my brother, but today is not the day, and Wendy doesn’t need to be party to it.

I stand and hold my hand out to my girlfriend—my girlfriend.

Leslie takes it and gives me a sweet smile. “You ready?”

She’s so beautiful I’m not sure I can respond, but since we have an audience, I force out, “I’m more than ready.”

We say goodbye to my brother and Wendy and head out. We hold hands on the way to the elevator, and once the doors close us inside, I say nonchalantly, “I’ve never been kissed in an elevator.”

Immediately, Leslie pushes me against the wall, goes up on her tiptoes, and pulls my head down to hers. I let her take the lead, and I’m not disappointed. She steps away breathlessly when the elevator doors open.

“You can mark that off your bucket list.” She takes my hand and tows me out into the lobby. When I get my bearings about me, I guide her outside and down the street to my car. I unlock and open her door for her, and once she’s safely inside I pull a clean shirt out of my duffel bag in the trunk. Then I realize I’m going to have to change my shirt either on the street or in the car three inches away from Leslie. I opt for the street.

When I slide into the driver’s seat in my fresh shirt, Leslie says, “You didn’t want me to see your extra belly button, did you? I know you have one hiding under that shirt.”

I gape at her. “How did you know?”

“You seem like the type.”

I laugh as I stick the key into the ignition. “What makes me seem like the type of person who has two belly buttons?”

“You’re so big it’s pretty obvious you’re actually two people in one. What else do you have two of?”

“Hmm.” I pretend to think for a few seconds and then start rattling off body parts. “Arms, legs, hands, feet, kidneys, lungs, eyeballs, eardrums, big toes, pinkies, armpits, nostrils—”

“Okay, funny guy.”

We grin at each other for a few seconds before I ask, “Where do you want to eat?”

“I’m in the mood for Mexican,” she says.

I pull the key back out. “If it’s Mexican you want, we don’t need to drive. The best place in this part of town is a few blocks down the street.”

We get back out of the car and head down the sidewalk, Leslie tucked firmly against my side.

“Do you think Wendy is out here spying on us somewhere?” I ask.

“That’s a possibility, but my money says she’s still up there with Randall. Any chance something could happen between those two?”

“No,” I say. “He—” I stop myself from saying he has a crush on Melissa. I don’t want to potentially ruin my first date with my new girlfriend by telling her about my upcoming fake date.

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