“Seems to me like you do.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know what you want to say but for some reason, you’re embarrassed to say it.” He paused and held my eyes when he said, “You’ve had time so I’ll ask again—how much of last night do you remember?”
“Not much,” I admitted.
“Right. So to fill in some blanks I knew you weren’t coming on to me before you were drunk. You were being your normal playful self. It’s cute; you work it, but I also know it was banter. After you were drunk you told me you hadn’t had sex with a man in four years and you gave up masturbation three years ago when you couldn’t get yourself off. Hence the nun comment I didn’t get the other day. Which brings us to the part where you were thinking about masturbating instead of shooting which also explains why you were off your game.”
“I did not,” I breathed and prayed.
Prayed he was lying and making up tales.
“You didn’t? Then how do I know you haven’t had a man in four years? And it’s been that long since you’ve had an orgasm.”
“Why did I tell you that?”
“Fuck if I know.” Luke shrugged.
“Just to say, I’m really embarrassed right now. Like more embarrassed than I’ve ever been in my whole life and that includes when I threw up on my high school boyfriend after he took me on a roller coaster that looped upside down three times. And if it wouldn’t embarrass me more I’d get up and go hide under my comforter and pretend you weren’t sitting on my couch.”
It was safe to say that after tonight I would never be seeing Luke again. No way, no how. It was a miracle I hadn’t yet burst into flames from the heat emanating from my face. I could never face him again.
He knew way too much.
“What else did I tell you?”
“Why are you embarrassed?” he asked instead of answering.
“Are you joking?”
“No. Last night, I told you I hadn’t been with a woman since I left the Navy.” Luke shrugged like his admission was no big thing.
Like it wasn’t personal.
Like we were lifelong friends who shared intimate details about our lives all the time.
“I appreciate you sharing that with me. And I suppose you knowing I haven’t had sex in a while isn’t the end of the world. It’s the other part I wish I would’ve kept to myself.”
“The masturbation.”
“Was it necessary to clarify?”
“Absolutely.”
“How long have you been out of the Navy?”
“A while,” he evaded.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Then how’s this? Less than four years but more than six months. And to clarify your unanswered question, I have no issue with masturbation. Though my hand is nowhere near satisfying, it works.”
I forgot about my burning cheeks when a new very unwelcomed shiver happened.
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
Luke smirked disbelievingly.
“Seriously, I have no desire to know what you and your right hand get up to in the privacy of your bedroom.”
“I’m left-handed,” he returned.
“Huh?”
“I’m left-handed,” he repeated. “What me and my left hand get up to. And I don’t jerk off in bed. The shower always.”
“This is the most bizarre conversation I’ve ever had,” I muttered.
“Trust me, it’s not. This is the second time we’ve been over this.”
My eyes drifted closed and I prayed for the end of the world. An asteroid careening toward earth would’ve been much appreciated. A fireball of death and destruction to end my misery.
“I’m never drinking again,” I muttered every drunk’s famous last words.
“For the most part, you’re a fun drunk.”
“Awesome. I’m glad you think me sharing my secrets makes me fun.”
“Darlin’, we haven’t gotten to the part where you were dancing on the pool table yet.”
My eyes snapped open and horror washed over me.
“I didn’t—”
“I’m joking. You didn’t dance on the table. But you are a fun drunk and not because you spilled your secrets. Because you’re fun sober. You’re funny and open and hold nothing back. After a few drinks, you’re the same you, just more of you. All of it good. All of it sweet and funny.”
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
All humor fled when Luke answered, “You’re welcome, Shiloh. But I should be thanking you for trusting me. Means a lot to me you felt comfortable enough with me to give yourself something you needed.”
The doorbell rang and I was saved from having to respond. Luke got up from the couch, handled the delivery, then dumped the pizza and salad on the coffee table and told me to stay put while he rooted around my kitchen. Luke came back with plates and utensils and we dug in.
It would be awhile—after I’d had three slices and finished my salad, after Luke had turned on the TV and perused the channels until he settled on a crime drama and the show had come to an end—before I drew up enough courage to ask the question that had plagued my mind since I’d woken up.
“Why’d you spend the night?”
I crossed my fingers in hopes his answer would be because I’d puked several times between the bar and home and he was afraid I’d do it more and choke and die.
Yes, that was how desperate I was—I would rather have puked in front of hot guy Luke than to have begged him to stay with me because I was now afraid to close my eyes and sleep.
When his gaze didn’t leave the TV panic rose. I’d done or said something that caused him discomfort.
Shit. Goddamn.
“Luke?” I whispered.
His head slowly turned and when his eyes met mine there was pain staring back at me. So much pain it hurt just to see it.
A beat later he shattered my carefully contained world.
5
I’d had all day to contemplate this very conversation.
I’d spent a good amount of time rationalizing the difference between a lie and omitting information that had the potential to hurt someone. Twenty-four hours ago all I knew about Shiloh was she was beautiful, funny, and a danger to my wellbeing. But last night in her drunken state I got to know her well. She’d told me pretty much everything about her life with unfiltered detail.
I knew about her father. Her brothers. How guilty she felt that Echo had to step up and raise them even before her dad went down. How River and Phoenix had done the same. I knew her mother was a hippy and gave the Kent children what Shiloh called Hippy Names. Echo hated his name. River, too. Phoenix was glad his name wasn’t Echo but didn’t love the name Phoenix. But Shiloh secretly liked her name but she’d never told her brothers that.
She’d been resolute in her love for her brothers. They were all she had and she loved them more than anything but she felt the weight of their love. She lived under a cloud of worry she’d in some way disappoint them.
Shiloh had been completely open about her lack of a sex life and explained in great detail the reasons why she didn’t want a man or a relationship. She was afraid of failure. Not a failed relationship but failing in a career she’d worked hard to have. I understood her worries and misgivings about distractions. When I was in the Navy, I had those same fears.