Page 25 of Archer
“Because, I just am,” I said. “I don’t know, it’s obvious when they’re faking it. When it’s real, it’s… it’s really hard to fake those kinds of vibrations.”
She narrowed her eyes, looking both curious and disturbed at once. “Vibrations?”
“Yeah, in their legs, their knees,” I said. “And they get like… dizzy, I can see it in their eyes. Almost drunk.” I put my elbow on the back of the stool. “I don’t know, I’m a dude, I dunno how to describe it. You can just tell the difference.”
“How many women have you slept with?” she asked, sipping her coffee and I laughed, shaking my head.
“I’m not telling you that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t tell anyone that.”
“I told you how many people I slept with.”
“That’s not fair,” I said. “Yours is zero. That’s different.”
“Yeah, which is more embarrassing than any other number,” she said folding her arms.
“Let’s just say, I stopped keeping track once I hit a few sets of hands and I never tried to again,”
“And… aside from that one girl, you weren’t in love with any of them?” When she asked, there was almost a worried tone to her voice. I wished I could lie to her, but I felt like that’s all anyone had done to her her whole life. The dating world was something that shouldn’t be sugar-coated. It’d ruin her.
“Nope,” I said as my grin slid downward. “Just girls I met. Some I got along with better than others, but no. I didn’t love them.”
“I see,” she said, holding her mug between her hands, staring down at it. “Does that bother you at all?”
“No,” I said simply. “But I don’t know, men are different.”
“How so?” she asked, and I hated to sound condescending, but I couldn’t help but laugh again.
“Well, for one, we think with one head more than the other.”
One of her brows raised and she looked confused. “What other head?”
“Oh my god.” I pursed my lips together, wondering how the hell the girl I fantasized over all year could be the complete opposite of the sultry little minx I imagined she was outside of work. “You’re… you need to uh, watch some porn or something before you have sex.”
She pulled her neck back. “Why? I’ve read books that have sex in—OH! Head! Like, the guy’s… ha. I get it.”
“There you go,” I said, laughing while shaking my head at how surreal everything was.
“Am I…” She bit her lip and looked away from me, running her hand along her long, matted hair that still looked adorable. “Am I hopeless? Like, is it too late for me? Will I be some sort of weirdo for not knowing what I’m doing?”
“What? No. Rose, you’re beautiful. Trust me, any guy will be patient with you,” I said, suddenly feeling the same rush of guilt I felt earlier again. “I was joking about the porn thing. I just meant that, well… it might not be as, uh… glamorous, as you might expect.”
“What do you mean, ‘glamorous’?” she asked.
“Like, it’s messy and sometimes you make awkward sounds, or it’s just really bad even if you really like the person,” I said. “It’s not always a big, romantic event under a shooting star. But it’s still fucking amazing. Trust me. Just… different than you’re probably expecting.”
“Hm,” she said, and sipped her coffee. “I see.”
When she seemed to be done talking, I turned back to my movie, trying to follow the plot even though I missed a long chunk of time talking about sex. Oddly, that entire conversation felt so comfortable, I didn’t even feel that aroused during it. Just… curious to learn more about her. I had never met a girl like her. I didn’t even think girls like her existed.
Finally focusing on the plot and not Denise Richards, we fell into an easy silence as she quietly made herself toast in the kitchen. The bustling in the kitchen felt oddly cozy; it felt nice to have another person there for the first time since she got there. I was glad I didn’t run off to the Tavern today; we wouldn’t have moved to this level of acquaintance without this time together.
“Hey, Archer?”
“Yeah, Rose?”
