Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“If I’m still at this same job, then I could only come for a weekend. Unfortunately, I don’t have any vacation days stored up.”
Henn looks wistful. “Sorry the Sybian rental didn’t work out this time. I promise we’ll do it next time.”
I blush. “It’s okay. I’m still not completely sure I could ride one in front of you, anyway. I’d love to try, but I think I might feel too shy, when push comes to shove.”
“Like I said, it’s totally up to you. No pressure.”
“I’m not saying I won’t do it. I’m just saying you shouldn’t set your expectations too high. I’ve never even masturbated in front of anyone and riding an orgasm machine in front of you seems like a huge leap beyond my comfort zone.”
Henn considers that. “Okay, well, if you want to take baby steps, instead of a huge leap—and this is totally up to you, of course—maybe we could use this time apart to get comfortable doing stuff in front of each other on FaceTime?”
I look around the small restaurant and whisper my reply. “That sounds like a great idea. But let’s not make any firm promises about that and see how it goes, okay?”
“Of course. I’ve never had FaceTime sex myself, so I’m no expert. I hope you’re not upset that I’ve raised the idea.”
“Upset? Oh, God, no. I’m thrilled you said it. I don’t want you feeling like you have to censor yourself with me, Henny. As it stands now, you seem totally perfect to me, which can’t possibly be true, so I’m thinking you’re probably not saying lots of things you’re honestly thinking.”
Henn furrows his brow. “No, not really. And as far as me being perfect, I feel like I’ve shown you lots of imperfections this past week. Hordes of ‘em, in fact.”
“I haven’t noticed them, if so.”
Henn looks genuinely baffled. “Seriously, I’m like a human Whack a Mole of imperfections.”
I giggle. “If you say so. As far as I’m concerned, nothing you do even slightly annoys me.”
“Well, I feel the same way about you. Is there stuff you’re not saying or doing because you’re censoring yourself?”
“Not intentionally.”
Henn shrugs. “So, maybe we’re both perfect.”
I laugh. “That’s not possible.”
“I’ve seen no evidence to contradict my assessment of your perfection, and I’m an evidence-based person, so it must be so.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s only been a week, babe. I’m sure we’ve both been on our best behavior this week. But that’s to be expected. It’s only natural at the beginning of a relationship to put your best foot forward. Frankly, it’d be a red flag if we didn’t at least try to do that at first.”
“I really don’t think I’ve been on my best behavior this week.”
“Of course, you have. So have I. It’s unavoidable.”
Henn runs a fingertip along a groove in our small wooden table while biting the inside of his cheek. “I hope you know you can tell me anything, Hannah. Show me anything.” He looks up. “I want you to know you’re completely safe with me. I like you, exactly the way you are.”
I’m floored. Where did that come from? “Thank you. I do feel safe with you.”
“You can tell me anything.”
“Nothing about you even remotely annoys me.”
“Not only about that. About anything. Things that are maybe embarrassing to you. Or traumatic. All I’m saying is you don’t have to sugarcoat anything for me. You can tell me about any experience that’s shaped you into the person you are now.”
I tilt my head. Henn’s body language is perplexing. I feel like I’m a thief who’s been unknowingly caught in surveillance footage, while Henn is a cop who’s interrogating me without tell me he’s already got the goods on me.
“Do you have a specific question for me?” I ask.
“No. I just want you to know you can talk to me about anything, even something that makes you feel vulnerable.”
I process that for a moment and suddenly realize I’m probably feeling confused because I’ve never dated a man who’s in therapy. A man used to talking about feelings—a man who’s so damned willing to engage in direct communication. The thing is, though, as much as I sincerely appreciate Henn’s attempts to open me up, that’s not something I normally do very easily, despite how friendly and extroverted I come across. In truth, I don’t currently feel ready to unload every vulnerable or sensitive thing I’ve ever thought or felt to Henn this early in our relationship.
I’ve already told Henn some basics about difficult times in my life—about my parents’ divorce and my sister’s accident, for example. I think I mentioned my grandma’s passing, too. But I don’t feel the need to take Henn for a deep dive into the horrible darkness I felt after the perfect storm of my grandma dying, my sister almost dying, and a scumbag named Angus taking advantage of my rocky mental state in order to get his grubby hands on my tiny inheritance. In fact, I’d rather never talk about that shit again with anyone. Not even with my therapist. On the contrary, I’d rather forget all that stuff ever happened.