“Yes. I went to a Presbyterian church every Sunday until my parents could no longer physically pick me up and force me to go.”

“Do you believe in God?”

He set the meat and tofu kabobs onto the cookie sheet. “Why? Are you on a mission to save me?”

Selfishly, no. I was on a mission to save myself. But I wasn’t ready to give up my newest addiction, so I thought God would reward me for making Fisher a little less … extra.

Unfortunately, my religion didn’t believe the way to salvation was through good deeds.

Bummer.

“Because … I’m getting mixed signals. I think you want me to have sex with you, but you also want to do what Jesus would do. Which means I need to marry you to have sex with you, and I’m not marrying you just to have sex with you.” He peered down at me with raised brows and a tilted head as if to make sure I understood him.

I did not.

Fisher was the king of statements that could be interpreted in more than one way. He wasn’t going to marry me and therefore we weren’t having sex? Or he wasn’t going to marry me just for sex, but it was possible he would marry me for sex and other reasons?

“You want to know the funny part … even if it’s not that funny?”

He closed the lid to the grill. “I’m intrigued now. What’s the not-so-funny part?”

“The only thing that stands between virgin me and non-virgin me is you having a condom on you at the right time.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s not my lack of preparedness, it’s just bad sex. Deflowering isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. And unless you’re trying to be biblical about it, it’s not a gift. It’s a curse. You are not going to enjoy that moment when some guy’s dick rams into (pun intended) virgin territory. You’ll wince, nearly cry, then fail epically at faking an orgasm. No.” He shook his head. “I’m not having any part of that.”

I blinked slowly several times. Shocked. Speechless. “Uh … has this happened to you?”

He rolled his eyes and took the tray from me. “Yes. Yes, it has.”

Again, I skittered on his heels, desperate for more information. How many virgins had he deflowered? When did he retire from his deflowering job? Did the naked fisherman have virgin phobia? But the most pressing question was … why was I so eager to give him my virginity? Sex wasn’t special to him. He wasn’t going to declare his love for me to the world after bad, de-virgining sex.

No rings.

No proposals in the sky.

No “Here Comes the Bride.”