I called Christina while making a sandwich, even though I wasn’t hungry because the previous twenty-four hours with Fisher had been unbelievable.

“Miss me already?” she answered.

“I need to talk. In person. Where are you?”

“Thirty minutes outside of Colorado Springs.”

“Ugh!” I viciously cut through my sandwich.

“What is it? Just tell me.”

“Do you have me on speaker?”

“No, why?”

“Because I’m out of control, and I … I don’t want anyone else to know. But I need advice because I’m losing my mind.”

She chuckled. “Okay. Take a breath. Tell me what’s going on. Does it have to do with Arnie or the other guy?”

Arnie.

I’d forgotten about Arnie and the made-up other guy, who wasn’t actually made-up at all.

“The other guy. He doesn’t want to have sex with me because I’m a virgin, so we’ve been doing everything but having actual sex … intercourse … you know what I mean. Anyway—”

“Whoa … wait. Back that shit up. He doesn’t want to have—”

“SHH! Don’t say it out loud. I don’t want Jamison to know I’m having issues in that department.”

“Okay, fine. So he doesn’t want to try your … cooking. That’s insane. Why not?”

“Because he’s worried that my cooking is too important to me. So he wants someone else to try my cooking first because he said he’s not in the business of trying my cooking.”

“Maybe he’s never tried a woman’s cooking … like her first official dinner, and he’s nervous about it.”

“No.” I took a bite of my sandwich and chewed it a few seconds. “He’s tried other women’s first dinners because it apparently didn’t matter to them.”

“Well, does your cooking matter to you?”

“No. Yes. Gah! I don’t know. I mean … can’t it somewhat matter to me yet still be okay for him to try it before anyone else does? I’m not asking him to … open a restaurant for me.”

Christina laughed. “I love this conversation. So you go out to eat a lot, and you both enjoy that and mutually want to eat out, but he just won’t try your cooking?”

“Right. But, Christina … I’m not on the pill. And we’ve been doing things that are risky, but again, not penetration. And I casually asked him what he would do if I ended up pregnant, and he changed. Like his whole demeanor changed. He refused to discuss it with me unless I find out that I am pregnant … which I highly doubt I am.”

“Uh … Reese, why would you even think that if you … if he didn’t try your cooking?”

“Because he … you know. And I … you know. And what if there was a mixing of … ingredients …”

“A mixing where?”

“Just … never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m not near my ovulation time.”