In the past few months, Cal has become an anchor of sorts; a constant—someone I can rely on to always make time for me and have my best interests at heart.
When I told him I was thinking of getting a car after graduation since I already have my license, he gave me advice on insurance and maintenance. When Em’s desk was wobbly and we didn’t have the tools to fix it, he dropped off by our dorm on his lunch break and sorted it out in under five minutes. It was a bit embarrassing how quickly he fixed it, to be honest, but we still appreciated it a lot.
So yes, it’s safe to assume that Cal will do anything for me. He wouldn’t hesitate to help me if I asked, which is why I’ve decided he’s the only one I can go to about my current problem.
When I drop by Inkjection a couple of days after having read that blog post and having chickened out twice or a hundred times, I find him clearing his workstation. It’s closing time soon and Trey usually leaves first, hence why I chose this time to come.
I need us to be alone for this, or I’ll die from embarrassment. Even more than I already will, I mean.
Sure enough, Trey is walking out the door right as I walk in. He gives me a wide welcoming smile and points down the hall. “Cal’s just finished up. See you around, lil’ Grace.”
I snicker at his nickname. He started using it after I told him I was five-two, and I’m sure he’ll never get rid of it at this rate. “Have a good night, Trey.”
The door shuts behind him, and I take a deep breath before I approach him. This might be the best or the worst idea I’ve ever had to date. I’m leaning towards the latter.
Knocking on a metal cabinet since there’s no door, he glances at me only for a second before he says, “Grace, hey. I didn’t know you were coming.”
Too bad I’m too stunned to speak. He’s sitting in his usual stool, but he’s wearing a black sleeveless shirt I’ve never seen on him before, and holy mother of everything. It shows off his toned arms and muscles that look out of this world.
Before he glances up and catches me ogling him blatantly, though, I clear my voice in an attempt to find it again.
“Yeah, it’s um, kind of a last-minute thing,” I opt to say, while trying not to think too hard about how the hell I’m going to breach this subject once he’s done.
The universe must hate my guts because barely thirty seconds later he’s all done and staring right back at me.
“Came to finally get that tattoo?”
I glare at him. “No. And stop pestering me about it.”
He laughs and pats the tattooing chair with one big, gloved hand. My eyes land directly on the veins in his arms. “Come here. It’ll only take me thirty minutes max.” Seriously, I need to stop fixating on how huge his hands are. It’s not doing my poor sanity any favors. But now that I know how they feel around me, on my skin…
No.
I gulp. “Maybe another time. I’m here for… Um, something else.”
He eyes me with caution as he takes off his latex gloves. “What’s up?”
I’ve been thinking about this for days, and now that it’s about to happen all I want to do is run away. How mature of me.
I can always tell him that I want to go to that vegan food truck, or that I’m stressed with my final project and want to hang out with him. Yeah, none of those things would raise any alarms. This, though… This probably will.
Before I can say anything, he asks, “What’s wrong, Grace?” The genuine concern in his voice makes me feel like a terrible human being.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I say quickly. “I just have a problem, and I was wondering if you could help.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Of course.”
Damn him and his willingness to help me out no matter what. I smooth down the blouse I’m wearing, suddenly noticing my palms are sweaty.
“So, um. Remember Luke?”
“I do.”
“You know we went on a date the other day and, um… He kissed me.” When I see his whole body tense I quickly add, “On the cheek.”
There’s a storm brewing inside Cal’s eyes when he asks in such a low voice I barely hear him, “Did he make you uncomfortable? Did he cross any lines?”
“No, I promise he didn’t. I mean, I wasn’t expecting the kiss, but it didn’t feel invasive.”
His shoulders relax at that. “Okay. You said you have a problem. What is it?”
I chew on my lower lip. This is it, isn’t it? Oh hell. “I’ve just heard that he’s, you know, experienced.” I can sense the gears turning in his head. “And I’m not.”
He blinks. “You’ve never…”
“No. Not before the assault, and after that I didn’t… I couldn’t be with anyone like that.”
“I understand,” he says tightly. His expression remains open. “But you’ve been kissed before, right?”
“Yes, years ago, but that’s not the kind of experience I’m talking about.” I can feel my cheeks flushing as Cal looks down at his discarded gloves.
I’m not ashamed to admit I’m a virgin. My friends know, and I guess Cal now does too. I enjoy living vicariously through my friend’s experiences and romance novels, so it’s not like I yearn for sex or anything like that. But telling a man, telling him…
It doesn’t feel as unsettling as I expected.
“It’s just…” I start again when he still doesn’t say anything. His gaze remains locked somewhere on the ground. “I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of a guy, you know? I feel like I’m ready to take that step and learn the basics, so I’ll know what I’m doing.”
I’m sure he gets it by now, but since he refuses to establish eye contact and if I don’t get the words out now, I never will, I blurt out, “Will you teach me about sex?”
A few seconds go by, and Cal still says nothing.
At this point I’m not even breathing anymore. I gather the little dignity I have left and look away. “It’s fine, never mind.” I swallow. This was a shit idea anyway. “I can always look it up online. God, how have I not thought of that before? Silly me. I’m sure a lot of people—”
“Sit down.”
The firm command in his voice makes me do as he says. Walking to the tattooing chair, I keep my eyes down and sit awkwardly on the edge. I’m not scared of him by any means, but I’ve never heard him sound so authoritarian, and I don’t know what to make of it.
Embarrassment clouds my sight. How did I get to this point?
“Is that really the reason you’re here?” he asks me a lot more softly.
I shrug. “I’m just freaking out a bit over this whole thing. I don’t know what to expect when it comes to dating, and I don’t want Luke to think I’m pathetic. Or any other man for that matter.”
“No one worthy of you should make you feel like you’re pathetic for something as inconsequential as being a virgin, Grace.”
“I know, but still. I want to know what I’m doing. Not particularly because I want to date Luke, which I’m not even too sure about in the first place, but for myself. I’m ready for this. It’s time.”
“That’s amazing. I’m happy you’re feeling this way.”
I give him a small smile and finally look at him. “Thank you.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you gone to your friends? You’re close with them, right?”
“Yes, and I already talked to them about this. But I also want a man’s perspective to understand what they like and what to expect.” I swallow back my nerves. “I want someone I trust to teach me.”
He looks away, lips pressed tightly into a thin line. When he still says nothing, I continue, unable to stop myself.
“You’re the person I trust the most, Cal.”
For a fleeting moment I’m tempted to ask him how many women he’s kissed, how many he’s slept with, but I suddenly realize I don’t want to know the answer. The mere thought of Cal holding, kissing, or sleeping with another person makes me nauseous. Figure that one out.
Finally, he sighs before giving in. “All right. Tell me what you want to know.”
His voice might sound more relaxed, but his shoulders and jaw remain tense. Mentally, I shake my head and sit up straighter. Some small part of me can’t believe he’s agreed to it. As much of a great friend he is, talking about sex with me can’t be his ideal Thursday night plan. This might mean that my request wasn’t that weird after all, and it gives me a tiny boost of confidence.
There were so many things I wanted to ask Cal, but since I never envisioned myself actually asking or him agreeing, my mind is now blank. So naturally, I blurt out the first thing I come up with, “What does it feel like to have sex?”
Cal looks like he’s about to run away. He’s doing this for me, so I don’t find myself unprepared, I remind my brain. I can be patient. This is probably as awkward for him as it is for me, no matter how much we trust each other or how close we are.
“Well,” he starts, but his voice betrays him, and he has to clear his throat. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you how it feels for women, if that’s what you’re asking.”
It makes sense, I’m just dumb. “I’m worried it may hurt too much,” I confess. I don’t think I’ve ever said this out loud, not even to Em.
His expression is serious. “It depends. Some women barely feel pain the first time, while others can’t take how much it hurts.”
Knowing my luck and despite having done ballet for most of my life, my first time will probably hurt like hell. “Do guys think it’s disgusting when… When women bleed during their first time? I’ve heard that can happen.”
“Boys might.” Cal looks at me so intently his gaze burns. “Men won’t.”
Right.
Cal is no boy, that is painfully obvious. He’s the tallest man I know. Broad. Big. There’s no other way to describe him—Cal is simply huge.
“There’s one thing I want you to learn above all others.” He sounds so serious I stiffen. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him like this, almost furious with the world. And Cal never, ever, gets angry. “And that is to say no. Don’t feel bad or embarrassed if you’re not ready to do something, Grace. You say no and that’s it. No. There is no room for arguments, no convincing to do. And if he still tries to persuade you, get out of there, call me and I’ll break his goddamn legs.”
His sudden possessiveness makes me clamp my legs together, and the desire to feel any kind of friction down there grows until it becomes almost painful.
No, no, no.
I shouldn’t be thinking about Cal like this. Not when Luke is a great guy who shows genuine interest in me, and Cal is no more than a friend. A best friend with whom I’ve developed a connection that is more special than anything I’ve ever felt. And I’m not going to risk it. Not when he would never see me in such a light, anyway.
“Noted,” I say, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered I feel.
“Any other questions?”
Many. I’ve got many, and none of them are appropriate. “How would I know when to take that step?”
“You’ll feel it.”
I arch a skeptical eyebrow at him. “I’m afraid that doesn’t help much.”
Without saying another word, he gets up from his stool and stands between my legs. I feel the urge to look away so he can’t see my reddened cheeks, but he holds my chin gently to make our gazes meet. He looks at me with dark eyes and something else I don’t understand. He brushes the pad of his thumb over my flushed cheek, just like he does when he wipes away my tears, and as he leans down just a little, I lose the privilege of breathing. He stops only a couple of inches away from my face and asks, “Do you feel it?”
Oh, my god. This can’t be happening.
“Yes,” I let out a raspy whisper that doesn’t sound like my voice at all. “I get what you mean.”
He stays there, still and silent, watching me with intent. His face has never been this unreadable before. “Good girl.” He pulls away without warning. My skin instantly misses the warmth of his touch, and my body longs for the proximity of his. “The right moment will feel like something similar. You’ll know.”
I shift in my seat, the ache between my legs now unbearable. Forget the words and technical explanations. Something in me wants Cal to show me. I want him to show me how it feels to break down my walls.
“And then what?” I ask almost shyly.
“Intimacy is more instinctive than you think.” His voice is low as he speaks. “Let it flow, learn what you like, say no when you feel uncomfortable, and always make sure he’s using protection. If he refuses to or says his dick is too big, you get up and leave because he’s lying out of his ass.”
I chuckle at that, normalcy slowly settling over us again like a comforting blanket. Until my mind decides to wonder how big Cal is, and the ache between my legs comes back. I hate myself.
“Thank you.” I force myself to have decent thoughts again. “And I’m sorry if this was a bit weird.”
Cal’s eyes shine with understanding. “It wasn’t weird, Grace. Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you asked me. You know I’d do anything for you.”
But would you show me how it feels?
No. Stop it.
I shouldn’t be entertaining this careless idea. If it went to hell and I lost Cal over it, how would I move on? He’s become such an important person in my life that the mere idea of losing him makes me nauseous.
But another, much tinier part of me wonders what would happen if our relationship didn’t go to hell. If something else bloomed from the change.
I choke that thought to death.
