He and Anna had never discussed their sexual histories, though she had teased him about all his past conquests on more than one occasion. She did this out of insecurity, probably because she had only been with one person. But in all his sexcapades he had never been in love before, and now that he knew what love was, all his past hookups paled in comparison.

Anna had seen the truck pull down the driveway, but he hadn’t come inside the house yet. She had left the mudroom door unlocked like she’d said she would. She was alone, which was rare because Magda and her husband lived in a small house on the property, and when her husband was out of town, Magda slept in a room off the kitchen. She did it for Anna’s benefit, or so she said, but Anna knew that Magda was the one who got scared alone at night. Anna was never worried because of Gemma and Jon Snow. There was no chance anyone they didn’t know could get past three hundred pounds of Newfoundland coming at them from both sides.

Anna dismissed the notion that Vronsky was nervous and sitting in Murf’s truck, too scared to come in. If anyone needed to be nervous, it was she. What am I doing? Why did I invite him over?

She asked herself these questions to salvage her pride, because her secret self knew exactly why she had asked him to come over. The house was empty, and she had never wanted anything the way she wanted Vronsky. For the last several weeks she had been walking around in a state of constant irritation, like her skin was too tight. She was overly sensitive to the slightest touch, and she noted how every texture she came into contact with gave her new sensations she’d never experienced: the way clothes draped over her body, or the way her high-thread-count sheets felt extra smooth and cool to her skin. She was taking long showers these days in hopes the hot water would somehow desensitize her. But nothing had been working. All she pictured when she closed her eyes was his face, and she could summon the fragrance of Vronsky without even concentrating. When Vronsky kissed her, all she wanted was to sink to the floor with him. Earlier today, out in the field when they were making out, her shirt had come untucked and when he slipped his hand underneath it and she felt his hands on her bare skin, she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

That was when she decided she needed to see him. If she didn’t spend more time with him, she’d go mad. She couldn’t concentrate in school. She was distracted at home. This morning she had poured grapefruit juice into her cereal thinking it was milk.