Page 31 of American Sweethearts

I dipped my head as I waved at a couple other people coming in. I looked at my watch and saw that we had anotherfive minutes. “You can stay, J.” I winked and tried to keep my stupid heart from lurching in my chest. “I’ll even let you ask a question.”

That smile he gave me—it was the one that in the last fifteen years had consistently fucked me up and made me like it every step of the way.

chapter twenty-one

juan pablo

“So that thing is not what you use for pegging, then?”

I really didn’t need to be sitting here listening to Doña Rosa, my barber’s mom, asking about prostate massagers. But I sure as fuck was not getting out of my seat until Priscilla was done with this class.

We were about five minutes from the end and I’d managed to push through half a dozen boners and one particular tricky situation with a cock ring demo that for real had me holding my breath so long, I lost time.

Pris was in her element though. I don’t know how she did it, but she managed to make a sex talk for older folks fun, engaging—and God help me—sexy. I mean my mind was fucking blown.

Also, she looked happy.

It was such a far cry from how I’d found her outside of the center earlier. Face drawn, upset…exhausted. No, here, she was a different Pris, one that I hadn’t seen in ages. And she had all these people enthralled and chatty, about sex toys. I’d been certain she would talk the whole time because the audience would be too embarrassed to ask questions. But Pris had put everyone at ease within minutes and it had legit been one of the most interactive workshops we’d had at the center.

I drifted back into the conversation as Pris was wrapping it up. “Now who’s going to carve out some time for solo play?”

Everyone raised a hand and Pris clapped, delighted. “Excellent. Okay, so who has some stuff written down they’re going to buy tonight?”

All hands up again, and I wasnotgoing to let any images of these aunties getting sexy at home in my head.

Instead I lifted my own hand way up. When Pris saw me, she busted up and winked. “Awesome. Thanks so much for joining me tonight, and I hope you found some of what we talked about useful and gave you a little fuel to feel empowered about your body and your pleasure. Remember to ask your partners for what you want and screw polite.”

The room broke out in applause and fuck, the smile on her face broke my heart. I wanted to see her like this always.

I stood back as people came up to her to ask more questions or say thanks. Some people pointed at a toy, clearly wanting more info and she got to every single one of them. I waited in the back, observing with too many things swirling in my chest. I wanted to go up to her and tell her that all that sexy shit she was telling the abuelitas had me mad revved up and a little confused. That I wished I could take her home right now and fuck her senseless. Instead I took four deep breaths like my therapist showed me and waited until it was just the two of us left in the room.

I walked up slowly as she started putting her stuff away. “I’m right behind you, Detective Gutierrez. I don’t want to get popped on the mouth.” I didn’t need to see her to know she was smiling. When she turned around, she still looked happy as hell.

“You’re not cute.”

She did not sound mad at all, and she handed me a little black pouch. “Here. I wanted to give you something, to say thank you for dinner and for almost punching you in the throat before.” Her mouth was twitching and I knew I was full on cheesing.

I took the bag and looked inside, trying really hard not to laugh.

“So you’re giving me a used prostate massager to say you’re sorry.”

She balked at that and I swear I was going to choke from trying not to laugh.

“It’s not used. Oh my God, J, that’s gross. It’s brand-new. I just got it the other day.”

“Thanks.” I bit my bottom lip at her contrite expression and felt sort of proud of myself that I didn’t say something greasy, because I wasfeelingher right then. She was in gray slacks, a yellow sweater, and black ankle boots. Her hair in the bun I knew meant she needed to wash her hair soon. The little diamond studs I’d gotten her for Christmas like ten years ago in her ears.

I knew this woman like I knew myself, but I had no fucking idea how to convince her to give us another shot. To come home with me, so I could take care of her in every way possible. I didn’t want to bring up what had gone down after my parents’ party, the night we’d had. Because even though it had been awesome, she still slipped out of the house before I woke up. A simple thank you in a text later that morning the only evidence it had happened at all.

I got myself together and tried to sound like I wasn’t agonizing about everything. “This was great. I can safely say we’d love to have you back. Rafa’s going to be calling you for sure.”

She nodded as she finished zipping up her bag, her face open and relaxed. “I’d love to do it again.”

And of course, I came out of my face without any fucking warning. “Do you want to come to my place and watch a movie or something?”

Netflix and chill? Really, Juan Pablo?

I belatedly remembered I was holding a vibrator in my fucking hand and waited for her to answer.