Page 61 of Grasp The Moment

Derek pauses as if to think over his words before chuckling softly. “I really want to fuck you. God, you don’t know how badly I want to have sex with you right now, but I think there’s something you should know.”

I freeze, my body stiffening as I take in his words. You could hear a pin drop with how quiet it is in the apartment.

“Wha… What happened?”

I try to turn my face to look up at him, but there’s no point because in an instant his hands are back on me, massaging my tense shoulders.

“I’m not saying we need to tonight, but I want us to both be comfortable when wedo… I… um..”

I have a feeling he’s scratching the back of his neck. It's something I’ve seen him do when he’s anxious.

“Well… I can’t necessarily ask if you’re a virgin, considering…”

He chuckles. “I have a daughter.”

“Right.” I pause, thinking over my next words as dread washes over me. “Did something happen to you?”

Derek hesitates, pausing his massage momentarily before he sighs.

“I haven’t had sex since Delilah was born.”

Delilah’s four.

If he hasn’t had sex since she was born, then that means…

“The first and only person I’ve ever had sex with was Delilah’s mother, Rosemary.”

24.Derek

The lookof shock on Georgia’s face would be comical had I not known the reasoning behind it. I don’t know how or when our positions changed, and she ended up on her back with me straddling her, but here we are.

“So… if you haven’t had sex since Rosemary, does that mean that you’ve been waiting for her?”

The sound of Rosemary’s name on such a melodic tongue makes me cringe, but the thought of me missing her makes mesick.

What Rosemary and I had was a year-long relationship between two kids that got a little too serious before either of us knew what we were getting ourselves into. I’d never call my daughter a mistake or accident because she isn’t one, but I do wish that we’d both been smarter going into this whole thing.

I want to hate Rosemary for what she did all those years ago, and a part of me hates myself for never tracking her down to get answers on why she left.

We’d been good for crying out loud!

She was eight months pregnant the last time I’d seen her,and the next thing you know, it’s the middle of May, and I’m finding my week-old daughter crying on my mother’s porch.

Sighing, I roll off of Georgia and sit next to her on our bed. She frowns, tucking into herself, pulling her knees to her chest as if to protect herself from whatever I say next.

“I’d never wait for such a heinous person—ever. Nor would I ever put you in that position,” I say, looking her square in the eye as she nods.

Georgia pulls inwards a little more, and I can see her shrinking away from the idea of us in real time.

I can’t let that happen.

Reaching out, I hold one of her hands in my own.

“Derek?” she says quietly, completely unlike her usual loud and outgoing self.

It scares me.

“Mhm?”