I flicked his shoulder.
“Of course. How could my baby be bad at anything?”
“Why do I think you’re just humoring me at this point?” I asked dryly. I’d show him. He could just wait and see.
“Of course not.” He brought the car to a stop at a red light and pulled me in closer to him, pressing his lips against mine in a hard but quick kiss that left me reeling andalmostforgetting about what we were talking about.
“I haven’t been on many dates,” I admitted after he drove off at the green light. He didn’t say anything right away, so I rambled on, “I mean, I went on a few in college, but Tommaso was always there, you know? I don’t think that constitutes a date. And I went on a few blind dates when my dad thought hewas in charge of setting up an arranged marriage for me. And then there was the one with you…”
I trailed off, wishing someone would stop me from talking.
Elio was quiet, as if taking in my words. He probably felt sorry for me, which was the last thing I wanted.
Sure enough, he responded with, “I’m sorry, baby. I wish there was something I could have done to change that for you.”
I shrugged. It was what it was. There was no changing it.
“I haven’t been on many dates either,” he said.
I grimaced. I knew he was saying that to make me feel better about my pathetic confession, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I hadn’t been on many dates—actual dates where I was alone with a boy—because Dad would never allow it. Elio hadn’t been on many dates because he probably wasn’t interested in dating.
I didn’t think I had ever seen him with a girlfriend.
But he had hooked up. With lots of women, I was sure.
I looked out the window. A minute passed when I felt Elio’s hand on my lap. I turned to him.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he softly demanded.
“How many women have you slept with?”
The car swerved a little, and Elio looked back at the road. I waited for him to tell me, but the longer he went without answering, the more I started to wonder if he was counting in his head and hadn’t reached the number yet.
“I don’t keep count,” he said finally.
“Right.”
“Does it bother you?”
I shrugged. His past was his past. I wasn’t going to judge him based on the things he had done before we got together. Yet, there was a part of me that didn’t feel too good about this.
“I don’t like that other women out there have gotten a part of you,” I answered truthfully.
“Baby. You’re wrong.”
“I am?”
“Yes. They don’t have anything of mine. They never did. It was mostly physical. There might have been some affection, but nowhere near how I am feeling about you now.”
“Really?” I whispered, wanting so badly for it to be true, even if it was hard to believe. What could I have possibly offered him that they couldn’t?
“Really. Don’t ever doubt that or doubt me.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if he saw. I wanted to say confidently that I didn’t doubt him, but there was a part of me, no matter how small or insignificant, that doubted. And I didn’t know how to turn it off.
I love you.
The three words popped unbidden in my mind.
