Just Pucking Money [COMPLETED]

Chapter 35 - Seven ❤️

Lily

I'm a mess. I wipe away my tears and hurry to the bathroom to wash my face. When I look at myself in the mirror, I feel silly.

I'm not the kind of person to break down and start crying just because things don't go my way. That's not me. I'm strong and independent, and Ethan is going to get sick of me if I keep acting like this.

I take a few deep breaths and try smiling. I can almost do it.

I leave the bathroom and am taken aback at the transformation. Ethan has dimmed the lights and put on some soft music. He's set the pizza on the bed and is lighting some candles.

"Hey." He puts away the lighter and walks up to me. "Are you ok?"

Gently, as if I'm made of glass, he wraps his arms around me.

"Yeah," I say and inhale his strengthening scent. "I'm fine. I'm sorry I overreacted."

He squeezes me tighter and kisses the top of my head.

"Pizza?"

I nod, but when he tries to let me go, I cling on to him and he holds me for a few more moments.

"Yeah, pizza sounds good," I finally say and let go of him. "Are we eating in bed?"

"Yup."

I make myself comfortable and open the pizza box. The smell reminds me that I'm starving.

I'm so intent on the pizza that I almost startle when Ethan clears his throat after a while. He's already had two pieces and I'm finishing off my second.

"So," Ethan says when I reach for one more piece. "I've been with a lot of women."

That's not what I was expecting. I have no idea how to react to that, so I stare at the pizza as I slowly chew. I know he's been around, but it's still weird to hear him talk about it.

He chuckles. "I'm not even sure I know how many. But my first time was at a party when I was sixteen. She was a year older, a friend of my cousin. You met him, Henry. Anyway, I made an absolute fool of myself and lasted about two pumps. She got mad at me and kept telling me to finish her off. I had no idea what she meant. She left very disappointed."

He takes another bite without looking at me.

This feels significant. He's sharing something with me, something that matters to him.

"That's not the story I tell people," he continues. "When people ask, I tell them about my second time. A few weeks after the disaster, I started dating Molly. She was in my class and a cheerleader. We dated for a few months. Our first time was a lot better. It still wasn't great, but better. I dated Molly for a few months."

He offers me the last piece of pizza and I shake my head. He offers me water, and I take it.

"Thanks for telling me," I say.

He puts away the box.

"The point is, I never tell people about my real first time. Sometimes, I barely remember it myself. Because it didn't mean anything. The time with Molly meant more. And it was less embarrassing." He gives me a grin and I smile back. Our eyes lock. "If you want a fake first time, I can give you that. I want it to be good for you. I want it to be a story you can tell everyone, if you want. Tonight is a night to remember."

He reaches out and cups my cheek. My breath hitches and I feel warm. Safe. Loved.

His kiss is soft. Patient. He waits for my response before he moves in closer. He lowers me to the bed so tenderly it feels like I'm floating. Then he lies next to me. His tongue starts exploring my mouth and his hand trails down my neck, between my breasts and over my stomach to my waist.