“And even aside from that, it’s just... It was okay for a while, you know? I wasn’t a popular girl in high school. It was complicated. I didn’t really go out with anyone. Not seriously. I dated in college, but back then I thought I wanted my first time to be special. I wanted to be in love. Now I wish I’d just slept with that cute guy in my philosophy class during sophomore year. I can’t even remember his name now. That would’ve been perfect.”
Gabe smiled. “I’m sure he’d have thought so, too.”
“After college I went to New York, and then... God, then it was like a weird weight I was dragging around with me. I felt like the only adult virgin in the whole damn city. I told one guy. Only one. And then I never told anyone again. Until you.”
The last words could have been meaningful and sweet, but she said them with the rough edge of frustrated regret so that they sounded like “Until you, asshole.” He tried not to take it personally.
“So what happened with that one guy you told?”
“He made a big speech about how he wasn’t ready to settle down. After we’d been on two dates. I mean, he actually stood up to pace back and forth in his living room as he talked about his five-year plan. It was as if I’d presented him with my virginity wrapped in a spell of eternal connection and topped with an engagement ring. Jesus, he was trying to get a BJ—I just thought he should know!”
Gabe tried not to laugh. He really did. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, trying to control his amusement, but when she rolled her eyes and smiled, he burst out laughing. “You’re really good at painting a picture,” he managed to say, but then he had to stop and wipe tears from his eyes. “And you’re really, really funny.”
“Thank you,” she said, still shaking her head at his laughter. “That’s sweet. But I swear it wasn’t funny.”
“But he was just trying to get a BJ!” Gabe gasped, then totally lost it again.
Veronica finally laughed, too. “God, it was like he thought I was going to superglue his penis to me forever. Because that’s what I’d dreamed of my whole life. Getting my hands on a first-year stockbroker’s penis. And never letting go.”
She collapsed onto the table, laughing too hard to stay upright. Once his own laughter had died, Gabe found himself grinning at her, he was that damn happy he’d cheered her up.
“I guess things didn’t work out for you two?”
“No. I never saw him again. I’m sure we were both relieved by that.”
Their food arrived, and they settled into a silence that was surprisingly comfortable considering how little they knew each other. In fact, he didn’t know much about her at all, aside from maybe the most intimate of things.
“You grew up here, right?” he asked, deciding to drop the subject of her virginity for a while.
“Yes. My dad was an attorney here, then a judge. He’s a federal judge now, but this is his district. So I lived here until I went to college in Cheyenne.”
“Do you ski? Bike?”
She shrugged. “I ski, but it’s not really my thing. I like it once I get up on the hill and it’s so quiet. But you have to get through so many crowds and lines to get up to the quiet part. My first love is hiking. I can be alone. Clear my head. It’s peaceful.”
Gabe felt his heart thump dangerously at her words, but mostly it was the faraway expression on her face. “I know you don’t climb. Are you into camping?”
“Not really. My dad isn’t outdoorsy. I never really had anyone to go with.”
“We could go sometime.”
Her cheeks went immediately pink. Her gaze dipped to her plate. “Maybe.”
“It’s a lot like hiking, except you don’t have to go back to the real world within a couple of hours. And we’ve got so many great secluded sites close by. There’s no reason to go to a campground, unless you like a lot of neighbors with generators and RVs. The key is to ask a ranger on your way into a park. They can point you to great flat sites that are near a creek or have a view.”
“It sounds nice,” she said.
“I’ve got a ton of gear. You want to try it? Separate tents, of course.”
Her pink cheeks went red. She set down her fork. “Gabe, I meant it when I said you were sweet. You are. But you don’t have to feel sorry for me. I have great friends. I’m doing okay. You don’t need to take me in. I’ve just never had a real lover, that’s all.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you! Okay, I felt a little sorry for you today, because I knew you’d be hungover and maybe mortified—”
“Maybe,” she scoffed.
“But...can I be honest?” Her flat mouth told him what she thought of that question. “When I met you, I thought you were someone else. Some high-maintenance city girl who’d sneer at a pair of hiking boots unless they were Burberry.”
“Really?” Her eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise. “I passed as a high-maintenance Manhattan girl?”
“Yes.” He gestured toward her plate. “Until you ordered an enchilada platter bigger than mine.”
She growled, “Shut up. I needed it.”
“I know you did. I’m just saying that you’re nothing like I thought you were. You’re funny and smart and down-to-earth. And I like the way you get shy sometimes.”
“Oh.” She was blushing again.
“And you’re beautiful, of course.”
“You don’t have to say that, Gabe.”
He drew his chin in in shock. “I’m not just saying that.”
“I can pull off cute on a good day. That’s it.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree.”
She nodded, then carefully chewed a bite of enchilada Suiza before setting her fork down again. “I’m not good at graciously accepting compliments. You can add that to your impressions of me.”
“Not like me,” Gabe said. “When you said I was gorgeous, I just accepted that you knew what you were talking about.”
“You’re never going to drop that,” she moaned.
“Never. Will you go out with me?”
She glanced around, her eyes darting from him to the table next to him and then the front door. “Go where?”
“We could go for an evening hike sometime. Or we could go to dinner.” He waited until she met his gaze again. “We could count this.”
She swept another nervous look over the room. “I don’t think we could. I’m wearing flip-flops.”
“I think that still counts. To make it official, we could go do something highbrow afterward. There’s a historical talk at the museum tonight. We might have missed it, though. Still, I bet some of the art galleries are open. We could go nod and murmur at the art.”
She watched him for a long moment, her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed with thought. She cocked her head a little. Gabe tried to look sincere and patient, even though he felt like squirming. “Or we could get ice cream,” she finally said.
Hiking, enchiladas, ice cream. Maybe she was the perfect girl. Maybe he was in big trouble.
VERONICA WONDERED IF she could die from blushing. She hadn’t been lying when she’d called him beautiful. Or gorgeous. Or sweet.