Page 49 of His Reckless Freshman

I have one more mouthful, then nudge the plate toward her. “You can finish it.”

“You sure?” She wipes a crumb off her bottom lip.

“Yeah, the crust is the best part.”

“Errr.” She makes a buzzer sound. “Wrong. The cherries are the best.”

She stabs her fork into one and gives it a little sniff before popping it into her mouth with a cute smile.

It’s been fun hanging out with her this afternoon. We’ve talked about a few different things. I’ve told her about my family, she told me how happy she is that I loved the article, and we’ve both danced around the topic I really want to ask.

It’s none of my business, but I want to check in on how she’s feeling after her disastrous date. But how do I raise it without killing this playful mood between us?

Just say it. Just ask!

Straightforward and honest, you know that’s the best way.

“Hey, Jolie.” I shift in my seat, resting my forearms on the table and leaning in a little closer to her.

“Yeah?” She finishes her mouthful, then uses her index finger to catch the last few crumbs on the plate.

“I wanted to check in on the other stuff too. See how you’re feeling after our…” I clear my throat. “After our last conversation. You doing okay?”

“Oh.” Her eyes bulge for a second and she lets out this awkward laugh, staring down at the empty plate like maybe she can jump into it and it’ll swallow her or something.

Her squirming discomfort makes me feel bad and I lean away, brushing my fingers across the table and shaking my head. “Sorry. You don’t have to answer. I just want to make sure you’re all right. You were pretty upset last time, and I hate the idea of this haunting you. Just want to make sure you’re okay,” I reiterate.

“Yeah, I’m…” She pauses, glancing at me and thankfully swallowing down her fine or great or whatever bullshit she was about to lay on me. Instead, she sighs, then softly says, “I’m doing okay. I’ve thought a lot about what you told me, and I…” She glances around like she’s checking for eavesdroppers, then leans across the table to whisper. “I tried… touching myself.”

I raise my eyebrows, silently asking how it went.

“It didn’t work.” She shakes her head, her cute little nose wrinkling. “I actually did some research, and not every woman can… you know… climax or whatever, and maybe I’m just one of them.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I can sense her disappointment or frustration, maybe?

Or maybe she’s coming to some bullshit conclusion that there’s something wrong with her. I want to tell her that she just needs to find a guy who is kind enough and patient enough to help her reach that high. I want to assure her that she’s capable of achieving this.

But she starts talking before I can say anything.

“I have started watching Bridgerton, though.” A smile flashes across her face. “And I’m really enjoying it. I’ve also started diving into romance novels too, and boy, are those addictive. I’m seriously not getting enough sleep these days. How are you supposed to put the book down when you desperately have to know what’s going to happen?”

I nod with a smile, loving the way her energy has shifted. She’s enjoying this new exploration, and I’m happy for her.

“What season are you up to in Bridgerton?”

“I’m halfway through Season 3. Colin’s just found out that Penelope is La—” She slaps a hand over her mouth, then winces. “Sorry, spoiler.”

I laugh, then have to admit, “I’ve seen them all.”

“Really?” She lets out a soft laugh. “I realized, like, two seconds after my spoiler faux pas that it probably didn’t matter and you probably had no idea who Colin and Penelope even were, but then I remembered you saying you watched some with your sisters, but I didn’t think you’d seen it all.”

I nod, trying to play it off like a major burden. “My sisters decided it would be a fun thing to do as siblings, so anytime we’re all home together, we have to binge-watch it.” I roll my eyes, and she starts to giggle.

“How does that feel? Watching that with your sisters right beside you?”

My lips twitch and all I can do is shrug, because I can’t go admitting how much I love the show. How invested I am in each of the characters and how I’ve internally cheered each time they get their happily ever afters.

Jolie runs her long, skinny finger down the edge of the milkshake glass. “You know, it is making me realize that sex doesn’t have to be this completely terrifying, painful thing.” Her expression scrunches. “I mean, I know it’s TV and it’s fiction and stuff, but they really make it seem like this… privilege rather than a painful burden.” Her gray gaze lands on me, so open, so vulnerable.

I smile at her. “It is a privilege. And it shouldn’t be painful or a burden. Ever. It’s this awesome, wonderful thing. It should be fun, and you should love it so much that you want to do it, over and over again. It’s definitely not something you should be afraid of.”