I laugh softly and take the paper from his hands. Clearly, we’re not going to get any further with that line of questioning. “What about your brakes? Knowing there’s a mess in the house, feeling like there’s pressure to perform? According to this, a car won’t go if you’re pressing the accelerator and the brake is still on.”
“Brakes?” He considers the question for a moment, then says, “If anything’s wrong with Marley. Or if I’m worried there’s anything wrong with Marley.”
I nod. “That makes sense.”
“You?”
“I guess I would say a dirty bedroom.”
Connor snorts. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Have you seen the inside of a twenty-something male’s bedroom lately? It’s tragic. And a major turnoff.”
He shakes his head, laughing harder this time. “I apologize on behalf of my entire gender.”
I turn back to the paper, genuinely curious for his answer to this next question. “What about the goals of sex?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
“Well, I think that one’s pretty obvious. Orgasms, clearly,” he says with a chuckle, and I stare back at him. When I don’t immediately agree, he asks, “Why? What do you think?”
“Don’t get me wrong, orgasms are great and definitely important. But I also think that sex can be about feeling close to someone in a really authentic way.”
I hadn’t even fully thought it through before I said it, but once the words come out, I know I mean them. I love an endorphin rush as much as the next girl, but that closeness? That’s something else altogether.
Connor makes a noise of agreement and nods, a soft smile spreading across his face. “I like that.”
Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t say such sweet and dangerous things. If he didn’t, it would be a whole lot easier to pretend that I’m not feeling half the things I’m feeling. Pretending is something I’ve gotten pretty good at these days.
“Okay, my turn,” he says, taking the paper back and glancing down at it. “This next round is a series of questions that you answer yes, no, or maybe. To make it as fair as possible, let’s say our answers at the same time, okay?”
I give him a disbelieving look. “How do I know I can trust you?”
Connor’s expression is more sincere than I was expecting. “You’re just going to have to.”
All right then, I guess I will.
“The first item on the list is bondage. So we’ll say our answer on the count of three. One, two, three . . .”
“No,” we say in perfect unison.
We blink at each other, and he smiles.
“Told you there were no whips or chains in my closet.”
I roll my eyes. “What’s next on the list?”
“Sixty-nining,” he says, his eyes growing dark. “One, two, three . . .”
“Yes,” we both say.
A blush creeps over my cheeks. That’s a mental image I’ll be thinking of for quite some time.
But Connor carries on, clearly determined to find out our compatibility according to this list. “Trying new positions. One, two, three.”
“Yes,” we both say.
“Bringing toys into the bedroom. Is this even a question for me?” he asks with a devilish smile.
“Oh, so you’re saying you get high on your own supply?” I grin, leaning in toward him.
“That,” he says, mirroring my position, so that our faces are only inches apart, “is exactly what I’m saying.”
My breath catches in my chest, my gaze falling to his mouth. His lips are full and just begging for me to kiss them. But before I can make good on that thought, he pulls away, turning back to the paper.
“Anal?” he asks.
“What?” I almost sputter. Breathe, Jessa.
He cocks his head to the side. “It’s the next item on the list. Anal. One, two, three.”
The gears in my head are barely working, so I stumble out a “maybe,” and I’m surprised to hear Connor say the same. Surprise is on his face too. I guess there’s a lot we agree on.
“Opening up the relationship,” he says flatly. “One, two, three.”
“No.” Both of our voices are decisive and firm.
He nods and turns the sheet over. “I guess that’s it. We did it.”
“That wasn’t so bad. I was expecting it to be much more scandalous.”
He smiles, raising one brow. “Do you want me to ask you some scandalous questions to make up for it?”
I give him a light shove, my skin electric where it meets his. He pretends to fall over, but then sits back up and places his hand on my knee, and now I really feel like my skin’s on fire.
The instructor gives us some final words of encouragement, telling us to take everything we learned back to the bedroom tonight, and sends us off into the summer evening.
Connor takes my hand on the walk back to our neighborhood. I try to pretend it’s a small, sweet gesture, one that doesn’t really have to mean anything. He’s just trying to make sure that I’m safe. That I don’t blow away in the summer breeze.
But him holding my hand has nothing to do with the heat that’s been pulsing between us all night, or the way my voice catches in my throat for a moment every time he looks me in the eye. When he takes my hand, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to let go.
“So, that was interesting,” he says. His palm is warm against mine, and his fingers settle over my knuckles.
“It was,” I say with a slight tilt of my head. “Very . . . enlightening.”
The only sounds around us are the rumble of cars, the hum of cicadas, and our footsteps in sync on the sidewalk. My heart thuds against my chest, and I almost wonder if Connor can feel my pulse in my wrist. I’d try to relax, but I don’t know if that’s possible.
Thankfully, it’s a short drive home, and it’s not long before we’re standing on the sidewalk in front of mine. I glance up at the doorway and back at Connor, who’s giving me a shy smile.
“Sorry if tonight was weird. I haven’t been on a date in forever,” he says, looking down at his feet.
His tone is sincere, apologetic even, and my heart cracks a little at the thought of him believing any of that.
“It wasn’t weird,” I say, taking a step toward him and searching his gaze. “I had a nice time, Connor. Really, I did.”
He looks up, and suddenly, I’m aware of just how close I’ve made us. Close enough that I can feel his breath on my cheeks and see the flecks of gold mixed with the green of his eyes.
His gaze meets mine before flitting down to my mouth, and in one motion, Connor takes his hand to the back of my neck and pulls me in closer to him. Our lips touch, and at first it’s soft and searching like a question. He moves slowly, taking his time.
Every lingering doubt I’ve had about what’s happening between us slips away, and his kiss sends a shock from my lips straight through to my core. A burning, hungry need lights up inside me, and I answer by touching my fingertips to the stubble on his jaw and kissing him back, deeper than before.
I can’t tell you how long we stand there in the driveway, wrapped in each other’s arms, but when we finally part, the world feels different. It’s like the temperature dropped a few degrees and the air grew damp and heady. Connor’s eyes twinkle as he tucks a stray curl into place behind my ear, and my body screams for him to touch me again.