Chapter 12

• The last guy I had sex with was John Grant, my boyfriend of three years before he asked me to marry him and I freaked out and broke up with him. Though I loved him, he was admittedly a bore towards the end. And he never made me come; I mastered the art of faking it. Sex was just never that exciting for me, and I didn’t completely miss it.
• Of course there were nights when it seemed like every nerve-ending in my body was alive. My sheets teased me with each scrap of the fabric. The wind blown in from my open windows skirted across my shirt and I wouldn’t be able to resist teasing my nipples. A hand would inevitably travel down to my panties and I would make myself see stars before drifting off to sleep, wondering if that was the gauzy madness Jackie referred to.
• Then I went out on dates with people like Robert, listened to them drone on about their day, and panicked about the thought of them anywhere near me. Only Olivia reawakened the urge to seek that satisfaction in another person and I couldn’t go through with it.