Page 56 of Late Bloomer
“Right. Yes. A core value. I hate feelings. Don’t need them.”
Opal grins, looking up at me through her long lashes, eyes glinting. “What else?”
“Uh…” I flick through memories of the constant stream of rom-coms Grandma Lou would have playing throughout the day. “No sleeping in the same bed? Keep our separate rooms?”
I’ve never shared a bed with someone as an adult, so I don’t really know if this is a good one, but it seems like the kind of rule a woman like Sandra Bullock or Meg Ryan would come up with in a movie with a situation like this. Might as well follow expert advice.
“Definitely. Way too intimate.” Opal bounces on her toes. “Maybe no dates and stuff?”
I snort. “In this economy? Absolutely not.”
Opal giggles.
“Do we avoid, like, kissing on the mouth?”
Opal’s eyes shoot wide. “Let’s not get carried away there, Pretty Woman. You’re rather good at the whole kissing thing.” She takes another step to me, brushing her knuckles down my arm, braiding our fingers together as her hand slides into mine. “I’m not particularly interested in shutting any form of kissing down.”
I gulp, wishing so badly I could tamp down the ridiculous, embarrassing, glee-ridden smile pulling at my cheeks.
“No need to look so damn smug about it,” Opal says, watching my grin. She rolls her eyes but smiles back, lifting my hand to brush her lips against the back of it.
My heart bottoms out.
“Will you help me with the flower competition?” I yell. Because, clearly, I’m excellent at sexy talk.
Opal blinks a few times. “This escalated into a quid pro quo situation way quicker than I anticipated.”
Ugh.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a transactional way. I just… well. I… I need your help.” The words dangle in the air, repulsive and naked, like slabs of meat left to drain in a butcher’s shop. But it’s true. I need her. “I’d like us to work on it together. Win the damn thing. I know you offered before but I don’t want you to feel pressured to do it but I also am sort of desperate but if we hook up I kind of wanted to talk about it first so there’s no weird—”
“Of course I’ll help you.”
I release a huge breath, shoulders deflating. “Thank you.”
“That whole thing will be separate from this thing,” she says, gesturing between us. She reaches up, brushing my long hair behind my ear, then dragging her hand to cup my cheek. She’s so warm and gentle, I let out a mortifying whimper.
“So when do we, er, um… start the whole, uh, sex… thing?” The last word is a squeak, and I cringe.
Opal presses her lips together, but there’s no hiding her outrageous smile. “If you aren’t busy, maybe… right now?”
Chapter 18PEPPER
Sex with Opal as an elusive, gauzy idea seemed pretty great. Probably one of the best I’ve ever had.
But all the steps that lead up to that idea’s realization—me guiding us up the stairs, hovering outside my bedroom door, the knowledge that she’s going to see me naked and vulnerable and did I mention fuckingnaked—release a tidal wave of nerves through me, anticipation and worry cresting against my wrung-out heart.
Emotion-free orgasms, emotion-free orgasms. Opal’s words loop around my head in a chant. That’s all this is. A simple agreement that we’ll both (hopefully) enjoy… If I can just get out of my own head long enough to do so.
“Where’d you go?” Opal whispers, tugging me back down to earth.
I look at her—that sinfully full mouth, those rosy cheeks,eyelids heavy and hooded—and even more panic tangles with the sharp ache of want pressing into me.
“I’m nervous,” I admit, voice small.
One brow flicks up, tugging the corner of her mouth with it, a look that I can only describe as hungry.
She takes a step toward me.
