‘How long is it since you had sex?’
Tash’s question catches me off-guard.
My cheeks flame even hotter. Thank God it’s dark.
‘I don’t know exactly,’ I mumble.
‘Roughly then?’ Tash is like a terrier with a tuggy-toy. She’s not going to let go of this anytime soon.
I sigh. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Well, you’ve not hooked up with anyone out here that I know of.’ Tash has stopped on the path again and as we’re arm in arm she jerks me to a stop too. ‘Fuck a duck, you’re never a virgin?’
The incredulity in her tone stings. I bite my lip and look away.
‘Really? I don’t think I know any other virgins.’ Tash seems genuinely astounded. ‘How do you get to your mid-twenties and keep your virginity? Because you’ve had boyfriends, right?’
‘Yes but … where I come from it’s very church-orientated.’ I jerk my chin up. I’ve nothing to be ashamed of. ‘I used to belong to the church youth group. It was one of the few places my parents would let me go and that’s where I met my boyfriend. There was a lot of fuss made about staying pure for marriage.’
‘Really?’ Tash raises her eyebrows. ‘I can’t imagine it, but then I’ve never known anyone religious. At least I don’t think so.’
She makes it sound like I’m suffering from a rare disease.
‘I’m not … well, I used to be, but when I got older I questioned things more. My beliefs are a bit more fluid now. I suppose that’s the best way to describe it,’ I sigh. ‘My boyfriend was more … rigid.’
‘I bet he was, all that time without sex.’ Tash laughs.
I smile and roll my eyes. ‘Well, we did other stuff, you know. Just didn’t go all the way.’
‘So, what’s stopping you now?’
‘I think if I’ve waited this long I should probably save having sex until it’s perfect. I have to wait for the right man. I kind of fell into my first relationship. I said yes to the first boy who asked me out. Looking back, there was no way he was right for me.’
‘But it’s never perfect, Lucy. Life isn’t like that.’ Tash resumes the walk to Chalet Amélie. ‘If you want my advice, you need to get losing your virginity over and done with, preferably with someone you don‘t care about, because the first time is usually crap. If you don‘t sleep with multiple partners, how will you ever really know if you‘re a good match in bed with the guy you ultimately deem ‚perfect‘ to settle down with?’
‘Um, I‘m not sure I like that idea. I‘d rather wait for it to feel … right.’ I squirm beside her, half-relieved my secret is out and half-terrified this will be the catalyst for a change I‘m not sure I‘m ready for. But maybe I‘m hiding behind the excuse of waiting for it to be perfect before I commit to having sex. It means I‘ve never had to put myself out there or risk getting hurt. Also I‘ve never had to expose my sexual ignorance to anyone.
She pulls a face. ‘You might find yourself waiting a long time if you‘re not prepared to compromise at all. Actually, thinking about it, Nate is pretty near perfect but he can still annoy the hell out of me at times. Sometimes you have to adjust what you think you want for what is actually right for you. Or for what‘s right in front of you.’
Anxiety grips me as we approach Chalet Amélie. Any relief I felt at confessing my secret is overshadowed by fear of ridicule or even ending up the subject of a bet.
‘Tash, please don‘t tell anyone.’ My jaw clenches.
‘Of course I won‘t.’ Tash squeezes my arm. ‘I do think we should try and get you laid, though.’
We?
She lets go of my arm and walks ahead of me into the chalet.
‘Tash, no.’ I hurry after her, unease churning in my stomach. I really, really don‘t want to fall prey to one of her schemes, however well-intentioned she might be.
When I leave the fresh, cold night air and enter the chalet after Tash a wall of warmth hits me. I hope she‘s going to drop the subject now we‘re surrounded by people.
We find Sophie hiding out on the gallery and have to talk her into rejoining the party. It seems a shame some idiot from her past gets to ruin her engagement party. All the more reason to be very careful who you sleep with and wait for the right person. I head off to find a drink and bump into Rebecca in the crowd.
‘So, what were you arguing about with Tash earlier?’ Rebecca raises an eyebrow, clearly a seasonnaire on the scent of a secret. She‘s sipping a Kir Royale. I definitely need one.
‘Oh nothing much, it doesn‘t matter. You know what Tash is like.’ I avoid her gaze and look around to find a circulating waiter so I can grab a much-needed champagne cocktail.
I can‘t believe I kept the secret of my virginity all this time and now it‘s been out five minutes I‘m already struggling to contain it. I might‘ve known it‘d be Tash who‘d winkle it out of me. She‘s too canny by half.
Will she keep it quiet? I trust her, she‘s a good friend but not great at either keeping her voice down or being subtle. If she makes getting me laid one of her projects, well …
I reach out for a glass of Kir Royale from the tray of a passing waiter and sip the blackcurrant bubbles with champagne kick, the warmth spreading down into my chest. Mum might think cocktails are the invention of the devil but my family drink whiskey like it‘s a religion, so I don‘t see why cocktails get such a bad rap. It‘s just one of the many things I‘m not allowed to question.
Whenever I questioned anything as a child Mum would say ‚because‘ and her mouth would tighten in a way I learnt to dread. Religion was the main subject off limits, though. I once questioned why God wouldn‘t want me to use the swings in the village playground on a Sunday and Mum and Dad refused to speak to me for days. The worst part was the way they looked at me, as though I was the worst disappointment ever and I‘d been deliberately wicked when really I was just baffled. I‘d just wanted to understand.
I sigh and swig back more of the cocktail. The girls out here would think I was nuts if I tried to explain the strict Presbyterian culture I grew up in. Tash clearly thinks I‘m some kind of alien or perhaps a cult survivor.
‘Salut.’ A voice cuts through my thoughts and I‘m being embraced before I can look up.
When I do glance up Sebastien‘s large, sensual lips are already on my cheek. He kisses me enthusiastically on both cheeks and then directly on the mouth. I barely have time to register the casual intrusion of his lips and hint of tongue before it‘s withdrawn again.
‘Uh, hi.’ I blink. Did that … Is that … Okay, my brain has frozen, speech and thought resolutely refusing to obey me.
‘Where did you get to the other night? Come, come.’ He neither waits for, nor seems to expect, an answer but takes me by the hand and leads me away from an open-mouthed Rebecca. His hand is rough and large compared to mine. The contact is startling but by no means unwelcome.
It doesn‘t occur to me to refuse. Why doesn‘t it occur to me to refuse?
He draws me into a quiet alcove and pulls me down next to him on a small brown-leather sofa. The sofa is covered with the softest faux-mink throw I‘ve ever touched, it‘s so silky beneath my fingers. There‘s not much room, so I‘m pressed up against him, my thigh making contact with his. I‘m achingly aware of his close proximity and the corresponding flare into life of desire, deep inside me. It‘s like he‘s dropped a match onto a pile of dry kindling.
I‘ve never felt a desire this compelling before. Going without sex honestly hasn‘t bothered me that much,