I felt comfortable in his apartment, as much as I could under the circumstances, and I trusted him not to push me, but my experience in all things adult was limited.

I’d lived a very tunneled life, the traffic of my intentions flowing in one very distinct direction—Olympic greatness. That left little time for anything else, romantic or otherwise.

Now that I wanted it, I didn’t know how to take it.

“You look like a frightened puppy,” he called out, making my contemplative eyes jerk to his.

Mine narrowed slightly in mildly affronted reaction. “You don’t look exactly at ease yourself,” I argued.

Laughter rolled from deep in his chest, up the column of his throat, and out of his appealing mouth, letting out the breath we’d both been holding in one swift moment.

“You’re right.”

I walked over to him as he spoke and sat down on the couch across from him. His hand automatically sought mine, his fingers pushing through mine and settling into a hold that felt strangely like home.

“Let’s break the ice,” he suggested. “We’ll each admit something embarrassing to each other. Something you haven’t told anyone else and have tried your best to forget yourself.”

“Oh, yeah,” I grumbled, horrified. “That sounds like a great idea.”

He laughed at my obvious sarcasm and squeezed my hand, pulling the pair of them until the back of his entwined hand rested on his thigh. I watched as it went but pried my eyes free when he spoke again.

“It won’t be that bad. I’ll go first.” He took a deep breath and exhaled, but when I expected him to start his confession, he stalled a little more instead. “Just remember that this exercise is meant to endear me to you. If I find out you’re selling my secrets on the internet, I’ll be pissed.”

“No selling your embarrassing tales on the internet. Got it.” He nodded, but I held up a finger to slow him. “Unless, I stand to gain a fortune weighty enough to sustain independent wealth.”

One corner of his mouth hitched up.

“If they’re willing to pay that much, I’ll probably tell,” I teased through a face scrunch and a shrug.

“Deal,” he agreed good-naturedly, his whole being alight with humor and goodness.

I’d never considered the kind of man I wanted enough to know what qualities that included ahead of time.

The more I spent time with him, though, the more that list of non-existent qualities looked like him.

Patient. Forgiving. Unflappably rational.

Engaged in me and life and everything around him.

He actually spoke with his eyes, crinkling the corners and narrowing them just enough to make me notice when he was choosing his words carefully. They widened infinitesimally when he was working harder to make me agree with his point or when he really wanted me to listen. And they were just as expressive when he was listening to me. They emoted his every feeling and absorbed each accompanying one of mine.

I’d been noticing all along, but forcing myself to forget.

I most certainly wasn’t forgetting right then.

“Okay,” he said, getting himself ready to admit one of his best kept secrets. “Embarrassing. God, yeah, this fits the bill.” He paused again. “Who’s idea was this again?”

I laughed. “Yours.”

He nodded his resignation. “Right. Okay, so. I was fourteen, right?”

“I imagine you were at one time, yes,” I goaded.

He shook his head in amusement. “Well, you know what fourteen is like for guys—”

I raised my brows.

He chuckled and pushed his hair back out of his eyes in discomfort. “Okay, right, I guess you don’t.” He bit his bottom lip and considered his words carefully. “It’s a temperamental time for a young man—hormonally.”

I couldn’t help the stupid smile from forming on my face and sticking, both corners of my mouth secured indefinitely to the corners of my eyes.

“Jennifer Joffries was the hottest gymnast in my gym, all hips and overdeveloped breasts and long ass legs.”

I narrowed my eyes and glanced down, my lack of boobs standing out like a neon sign between us.

He shook his head, pushed more hair out of his face with his free hand.

Where was his hat? Oh. Probably in his motorcycle. At the gym.

“No, see, I was fourteen. I mentioned that, right?”

“A time or two.”

“And Jennifer started gymnastics after puberty, so her growth wasn’t stunted like the rest of the girls.”

“Still not sure I’m liking this.”

“Okay, okay,” he rushed. “You don’t realize this, but at fourteen, for guys, boobs are all that matter. At twenty-eight, I’ve got an entirely different favorite part.”

I felt the flush sweep through me from face to feet.

Point taken.

He chuckled at my easy embarrassment and grabbed onto my other hand to hold it too. Shin to shin, each of us had one leg tucked up on the couch and the other foot on the floor, both hands securely in each others’ hold. I was pretty sure it was one of the best forms of contact I’d ever felt.

“One day after practice, I finally got up the nerve to talk to her, and we ended up making out in the locker room. It was great.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his boyish frankness.

“That is until I got a little overly worked up, and she pointed it out to the entirety of the gym, my parents included.”

“Ouch! Jennifer sounds like a total bitch.”

“Nah,” he denied. “Just fourteen and female.”

I shook my head at his generalization and bumped him in the inner thigh with the back of our hands. He scrambled to defend against a potential blow to the jewels.

“Well, that was fun,” I redirected, hoping he’d move on and let me off the hook. No such luck.

“Nuh uh uh. It’s your turn. Come on, Cal. Feed my soul. Give me some redemption. Prove to me that I’m not alone,” he fake pleaded, widening his eyes comically and making it impossible to resist.

The only thing I could think of was the one thing I didn’t want to say, but eager to get it over with, I blurted it all out at once anyway. “I lost my virginity to a guy who used to do gymnastics at the gym right after my first Olympics. I thought he really liked me, but he really just wanted to say that he’d been with the un-fuckable. And to make matters worse it happened in the basement of a high school house party with “Touch My Body” by Mariah Carey playing in the background. To this day, I skeeve out anytime I see her on TV.”

Across from me, Nik sat frozen, his body a statue and his face a bland mask of discomfort.

“You’re not laughing,” I pointed out.

He scoffed. “Because it isn’t fucking funny. Why is that women always think fucked up situations like that are embarrassing for them? That fucking asshole douche of a kid should be ashamed of himself. Not you.”

“I—”

“I bet he didn’t even give you an orgasm.”

The air left my lungs in such a hurry, I nearly choked.

Unable to speak, I settled for a shake of my head.

“What a fucking cocksucker.”

“Nik—”

“The next guy treated you right, right?”

At this point, the conversation had turned laughable, so I didn’t even pause before my admission. “What next guy?”

In one fast tug he had me up off the couch and headed down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

He stopped so fast, I nearly ran into him, looking directly at me and barking his answer.

“Treating you goddamn right.”

My face jerked back and warmed as his words washed over me.

“The romance is ripe,” I poked in jest as he started speed walking again and pulled me directly into his bedroom and onto the bed.

The gray cotton cover felt soft under my thighs as his baggy loaner shorts road up, but the sound of his gravelly voice roughened the moment just enough. “Right now isn’t about romance. It’s about pleasure and lust and teaching you the bare minimum you should ever settle for physically.”