My eyes quickly scanned over the words and then I looked back to you, feeling the first traces of humor of the night. “You can’t talk to my aunt about this!”

“I know, right?”

“I mean this book is practically written about us! Hot sexy guy with rippling muscles taking the young, very beautiful girl to his bed and fucking her brains out. This is so us!”

You closed the book and hit me with it, making me laugh. “I’m serious! I’m going to be mortified!”

“I’m serious too,” I insisted.

You dropped the book and quietly sighed before you looked over to me. Your face was full of inquisition, and I felt my smile fade and my muscles tighten. I could tell you were about to ask me a question and I prayed it wasn’t along the same line of questions my mind had been thinking of. The last thing I wanted to discuss was our pasts with how I was already feeling.

“Do you think someone can fall in love with another person in a three-day period when they’ve only been around said person for like five hours?”

That route of conversation didn’t offer relief. The L-word hadn’t been used up to that point in our relationship, and averting the question seemed dangerous. I’d come within nano-seconds of saying it to you numerous times, and somehow the word seemed to stumble and trip as it attempted to roll off my tongue. I wasn’t sure if I should just casually drop it into conversation, or say it before going to bed, or if I was supposed to say it following a big romantic gesture? I was in new territory with all of those feelings, and confirming them aloud made it even more real.

My attention had drifted to the wall with my thoughts, and when I returned it to you, you were staring back at me, your brown eyes wide with patience and thought. I wondered how many other guys had professed their love for you, and the thought made my muscles convulse again.

“I don’t know, maybe?” I clipped.

“I don’t think you can. I mean you might be in love with the idea of loving that person, or possibly even feel the beginning of love because you’re really attracted and click well, but full-on love? I don’t know, maybe it’s just that this book makes sex sound like something we’re doing because we’re animals, rather than choosing who we have sex with, and doing it because you care deeply for that person.”

“Sometimes sex is just sex,” I spat the words. “Sex isn’t a promise or expressing your love for another person. That’s not why people do it. People more experienced realize that sex is something you do because it just feels good.”

Every inch of you recoiled, leaving cold air to sting where your warmth had been mere seconds ago. I watched as your eyes went vacant, processing my words a thousand times over, and I felt like I could punch myself. I knew I needed to apologize and take my words back and replace them with the truth and assurances. Pleas should have been flowing, however the thought of you returning someone else’s love, dislodged the words from my throat.

As you stood up, I saw the hurt you were trying to hide, but you turned and went into the bathroom without forcing me to validate the shit I was spewing. My chest burned from causing that hurt, not only with my tone and my words, but with the fact that I had just told you that sex was something we do just to feel good, when with you, it really was a promise.

The shower turned on and I pushed off the lumpy hotel pillows and headed to the bathroom door to find you had locked it.

I laid in bed, waiting for you to come out, trying to fight the exhaustion of the day. I stayed awake for a long time, but my exhaustion won out and I fell asleep before you came back out.

The next morning we flew back to San Diego and arrived home with an awkward silence still hanging between us.

“Hey, do you want to go to the gym?” Jameson asked as I stepped through the front door carrying our bags.

I wasn’t in any mood to go to the gym and was about to decline when I looked over to see you still closed off, intentionally several feet back from me. I knew I needed to release some of the pent up frustration I still had before I could try talking through things, otherwise my words wouldn’t come out any better than they had the night before.

I told him that I’d change, and watched you slide in behind me without even glancing in my direction.

Kendall flew from the couch and nearly knocked you over in greeting, earning a small smile that she couldn’t see was forced. As you both sat on the couch, your smile grew. No one would’ve suspected that anything was bothering you and that you’d spent the morning ignoring me.

“So how was the trip?” Jameson asked as he pulled his car out, making a wide turn and earning a well-deserved middle finger from a driver that was forced to stop.

“Fine.”

“You seem … sort of …” I turned to look at him as his eyes appraised me. “You seem like things didn’t go so well …” he said slowly.

My head fell against the head rest with a sigh. “I don’t know what’s going through her head,” I admitted with a growl.

“Come again?”

“I don’t know what she’s fucking thinking!” I repeated, running a hand over my hair and then down my face. “She started telling me about this book last night that my aunt gave her, and she was talking about love, and how she doesn’t believe people can fall in love in a short period of time. I don’t know why, but I started telling her that sex doesn’t mean love, and that she’s too inexperienced to understand.”

“So you’re saying we should go back, because you need to talk to her.” He didn’t wait for an answer, pulling over to the shoulder of the road.

“I don’t know what to say to her!” The words exploded from me as I hit the dash with my fist.

“No need to take your frustrations out on Shelly,” Jameson said, stroking the dash above the steering wheel. “Dude, I don’t get it. You and Ace love each other. Neither one of you actually says the words, but you love each other. Really, it’s more important that people show their love than say it, because anyone can say they love you. Not many people can show you, but I understand you need confirmation. Why don’t you just tell her?”

I sighed, dropping my head back against the leather again because my thoughts weighed too much.

“Dude, don’t let your pride fuck things up,” Jameson said, sounding less like a friend and more like an agitated spectator as he turned the car around.

“I just need to know how she feels.”

“Then stop being an asshole, and ask her.”

When we pulled up to the house, I was relieved to see your car still parked beside my Jeep.

Jameson and I stopped in the living room where you still sat beside Kendall who was reading the book that caused all of this mayhem.

“What’s with this chick crying every time they have sex? That’s not normal! Is it?” Kendall asked looking at you with genuine interest. “Do you cry during sex? I don’t.”

“Can we not be that open with all of that, babe?” Jameson shifted, his chin dropping as he stared at Kendall.

“Wouldn’t you rather hear what I have to say, as opposed to doing it behind closed doors? Because it’s going to happen, one way or the other.” I smirked at Kendall’s honesty.

“You don’t just start a conversation like that about sex!” Jameson cried.

“Like you guys don’t talk about sex, please!” She’s right. The week before, I threatened to break Jameson’s nose if he wouldn’t shut up about a blow job Kendall gave him. Probably not something you ever wanted to hear either, huh?

“Yeah, isn’t sex just sex? Something we just do because it’s our primal instinct? We are animals.” I don’t know what brought the salt to that injury, your words, your indifferent tone, or the fact that your eyes only stopped on me for a second.

I noticed Jameson wince, and Kendall stare at you in confusion. It was obvious she had no idea you were pissed with me.