He stroked her cheek, genuinely touched. “Sherri, that was your first orgasm, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, speechless and spent.

“What you felt, it’s natural. It’s beautiful. It’s what happens.”

But it didn’t happen with Frank. It didn’t happen with Sam. It didn’t even happen with Mitch. “It scared me.” She was afraid to look at him, because she knew instinctively that meeting his gaze in that tender moment would forge an even greater connection between them. “You scare me.”

“Oh Sherri, did it ever occur to you that you scare me, too?” He lifted her chin and forced her to look into his soft brown eyes, and that’s when she felt that some part of her she could never get back was his now. It would remain captured forever in his gaze.

Val was right. He owned her.

The weather was warm and humid the day of the party, a perfect early-summer afternoon. Sherri hadn’t seen Arthur since that revelatory night they’d spent together earlier that week. This time, when he picked her up from the resort, she was tense and quiet, too nervous for affection. She was worried that her new friends would be able to see her—really see who she was—in her hometown. A party was a test, one that would reveal who really liked her. What if nobody showed up? Or what if they did, and they were bored?

Arthur told her not to worry. He put out plastic tablecloths and bowls of chips while he tapped the keg. What would her friends think of him? He wasn’t like anyone she knew from the resort. He wasn’t gregarious or wild. He was more like her father, preferring deep, involved conversations over small talk. She watched him work and saw him for the first time through her friends’ eyes.

That was also how she saw Roberta, their first guest. Sherri had invited her because she really wanted her there, but also because she was afraid nobody else would come, and if they did, she wanted to show off her new life. Roberta walked through the door wearing a green sundress that showed off her freckles and ivory skin—Sherri hadn’t seen her dressed like that since they were little girls. She looked pretty instead of tough. It occurred to Sherri that her friend had taken more time with her appearance since she was going to hang out with Bunnies. Arthur struck up a conversation with her as if they’d just met. He didn’t recognize her from Giles. Before she could remind him, Sherri heard wheels on gravel and ran outside. The resort van that usually took Bunnies to off-site events pulled into the carport. Danny was driving—of course Danny had somehow figured out how to access the van. The door slid open and the Bunnies spilled out full of giggles, squeals, and hugs. Even Tina came to the party.

“I thought we said just a few friends,” Arthur said.

Sherri clapped her hands in delight and kissed him. “I guess word got out.”