“Kids and crafts are a big part of my life,” I admit, rinsing the wooden spoon I used to mix the lemonade and preparing to flee the kitchen posthaste.
I also have a sister I go to art shows and concerts with, friends, family, and volunteer work, and a deep love for long hikes in the woods, but Priscilla doesn’t really want to know about my life. She wants to build herself up by making someone else feel small and strange, but I refuse to give her the satisfaction.
“And that’s great,” she says, still in that patronizing voice that makes me want to splash lemonade in her eye. “Not everyone is a sexual being. Our culture would have you believe differently, but I know plenty of women like you. Some men, too. There are lots of people who are perfectly content to live quiet, sexless lives.”
“It’s been nice chatting with you,” I lie again, going for a personal record for number of falsehoods in a row. “But I should probably get back to the circle before people get thirsty.”
“Are you okay?” Pris angles in front of me, blocking my path.
“I’m fine,” I chirp, throat tight.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. Seriously, Libby, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” I look at the antique globe light fixture on the ceiling and then the collection of framed rooster prints and paintings on the wall, anywhere but at Priscilla’s stupid, falsely sympathetic face.
“Unless you wish things were different.” She steps closer, lowering her voice. “Unless you were hoping that one day Justin was going to realize that you’ve had a crush on him for years and decide he wants to be more than friends.”
I cut my burst of laughter short by clearing my throat. “I need to go.”
“It’s okay, Libby. We’ve all had crushes on people who don’t—”
“I haven’t had a crush on Justin for years, Priscilla.” I’m about to tell her that even if I had, I wouldn’t be talking about my feelings for Justin or anyone else with her, when she cuts in with a sly smile.
“So it’s a recent development, then?”
“No!” I huff.
“Right.” She smirks. “Your cheeks just turned bright red.”
“So? I’m uncomfortable talking about a friend behind his back.” I curse my stupid face for making it look like I’m lying.
I’m not lying! I don’t have a crush on Justin. I just want to be naked in bed with him all the time, find his jokes funnier than they used to be, and my chest got all warm watching him make a gift for a little girl he cares about. And maybe earlier tonight I had another passing thought about what kind of father he might be, and decided again that he would probably be pretty wonderful. But that doesn’t mean I want to be more than friends…
Does it?
Oh my God…
Does it? Am I starting to want more than friends-with-benefits? And if so, what the heck am I going to do about it? I don’t want to call things off now. I need more time, more Justin, more long nights with nothing but his mouth and his hands and the way his body fits so perfectly against mine.
“Okay, okay.” Pris lifts her hands innocently at her sides, as if she hasn’t just thrown a major wrench in my nice, uncomplicated sex education. “But if you decide you need to talk, you have my number. I’m a good listener.”
“Thank you.” I stare down at the pitcher of lemonade in my hands, feeling terrible. Maybe I misjudged Priscilla, and she really is trying to help. Maybe the patronizing tone and the certainty that I’m being judged and found pathetic are all in my head.
“Of course. We’ve all been there, you know.”
“Been where?” I murmur, gaze fixed on the tiny bubbles on the surface of the lemonade.
“Hung up on someone who’s totally out of our league.”
Before I can pour the entire pitcher of lemonade over Priscilla’s mean, self-esteem destroying head, Justin’s voice sounds from the doorway behind her.
“Hey, there you are,” he says, breezing around Pris like she’s not even there. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, beautiful.”
And then he takes the pitcher from my hands and sets it on the table, pulls me into his arms, and proceeds to kiss me like my mouth is the most delicious thing he’s encountered in his twenty-eight years on earth. The kiss is slow and deep, with his tongue stroking against mine as his hands smooth down to cup my bottom through my dress.
For a moment, I’m too shocked to respond, but then I realize he must have heard my conversation with Priscilla, and I melt gratefully into him, twining my arms around his neck and hugging him even closer.