I’m dying a little bit more every second. Where is that girl from the couch? Why did I lock her in the basement? I really could use her right now.

“If you didn’t like what we did, then it feels nonconsensual,” Fletch says. “And we need to talk about that. Because we’re older than you, and bigger than you, and it feels wrong. Like we should be ashamed.”

I’m just going to change my name to Mortification Winters. Nonconsensual? Really? Now they feel like I’m some kind of victim? It was my hands on their cocks, not the other way around. “This is starting to sound like one of the lectures we got about consent during freshman orientation. I wanted to touch you. I liked it. Please don’t turn it into something dirty and wrong.” Wow. This is hard. I feel like I’m growing up a little more every second, but growing pains are awkward and achy. “You’re both really good guys. I’m not afraid of you. I’m just not sure of myself. So, I retreat. I mean this isn’t exactly a normal way most girls learn about sex. But...it doesn’t feel wrong to me. And that’s why I feel like it’s weird. Not what we did, but the way I feel about not feeling ashamed. I’m not sure I’m normal.”

Shane watches Fletch cross the room. “I don’t think there is such a thing as normal. We’re all adults. We don’t have to answer to anyone. If we’re all enjoying the lessons, and let it be known I hella enjoyed the lesson on this couch, then I don’t think it’s wrong. But we need to make sure you didn’t do stuff you weren’t ready for. Inexperience isn’t the problem; it’s maturity. Were you really ready for what happened, or did the two of us use you?”

“If I keep saying you didn’t, that’s not enough?”

Fletch leans against the doorjamb leading into the kitchen. “It’s fine. But no more lessons. We’re done.”

I didn’t realize how much I wanted to keep going until he said that. “Wait.”

“I don’t want you to remember your time with us as ‘when those two perverts made me jack them off.’ There’s nothing wrong with you not being ready to get experience. I’m not interested in pushing you onto the highway.”

“Wait,” I repeat. Wait for what? Am I all of the sudden brave? “I really don’t want to stop the lessons.”

Shane sits up, back straight. Fletch moves away from the doorway. “What are you saying?”

“What are you saying exactly? No uncertain terms, please,” Shane adds. “Like fucking spell it out, please.” He waggles his brows. “Feel free to use explicit language. The raunchier the better.”