“Since when? Oh my God, you haven’t had sex with them?!”

She’s jumped fully off her bed now to jump up and down on the floor. I can see her just out of eyeshot on the webcam. She turns her laptop. I see her kneeling by the side of her bed, panting. “So, no sex.”

“I didn’t say that,” I screech, finally throwing the last dress onto the bed and grabbing my tablet. I fall onto my back on the pile of dresses and hold my tablet above me. “We’ve had…contact.”

“Very odd to frame it like that, but you do you.”

“We’re taking it slow,” I tell my nosy ass little sister.

“When have you ever taken it slow?” she says. “No slut-shaming.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“And if you are keeping your legs closed—”

“I’m not,” I whine defensively.

“Then it’s because you really like them. I can tell by the way you’re trying not to smile.”

“I’ve been trying to fuck them!” Wow, I sound like a child.

“But you haven’t. And if you haven’t, it’s because sex with Nadia and her husband— What’s his name?”

“Darren.”

“Ugh, you’re disgustingly happy right now. So anyway, if you haven’t let Nadia and Darren turn you out yet, it’s because they already have, but like…emotionally. And I, personally, love this journey for you.”

“You really don’t have to sound so goddamn smug.”

“I don’t have to do anything but stay Black and die, Miss Ma’am.”

“Please never sound like mom while talking about my sex life ever again in your life.”

Emma giggles. “That’s a reasonable request. So, how long have you been dating Nadia and Darren?” She says Darren’s name as if it’s five syllables. I hate her.

“A few months,” I grind out. Three months and one week today, to be exact.

“And you really like them.”

I can’t even hide this smile. “Yes. But tonight is the night,” I reluctantly admit.

Emma gasps. “And this is why I have to interrogate you. You’re all ‘which dress’ as if this is any old date when you are not setting the mood. The dress you wear to the fair with the dude you met at the club over Labor Day is not the dress you wear to let an experienced married couple make you their whore. No slut-shaming.”

“You definitely need to stop saying that after you slut-shame me.”

“I would never!” There’s a knock on her door, and she turns around. “Come in.”