“Fine. I have nothing to hide, so fire away.” I cocked my brows at her. “But be forewarned that turnabout is fair play.”
“I don’t mind.”
“So shoot.”
Tilting her head, Allison asked, “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
The audacious question, coupled with her interested expression, caused me to spew out the sip of beer I’d just taken. Swiping my hand across my mouth, I said, “Damn. Going straight for the jugular on that one, aren’t you?”
She giggled. “Would you rather me have asked the last time you cried?”
I shook my head furiously. I wasn’t one of those emotionally stunted men who thought it was weak to cry. It was more the fact that I didn’t want to have to acknowledge that it had been three days ago after I saw my sister. I wasn’t ready to go there with her yet.
“So answer the question,” she pressed.
“Actually, I was a late bloomer. I was nineteen.”
Her brows rose in surprise. “Seriously?”
I laughed. “You sound so shocked.”
With a shrug, she said, “I just imagined you being young. Like fifteen.”
“I was finishing up high school at fifteen. Trust me, for most of my teenage years, I wore glasses, had acne, and weighed one thirty soaking wet.” I shook my head as I was assaulted by a barrage of painful teenage memories of being bullied and being made fun of. It was just another reason that I hated living in the past—it was too f**king painful.
Trying to lighten the dark mood pervading me, I motioned to myself. “I was not always the stud you see before you today,” I teased.
My efforts were rewarded by a laugh from Allison. “I find that hard to believe.”
I couldn’t help shuddering. “Oh trust me, there’s photographic and video evidence.”
She shook her head. “Nope, I’m sorry, but I can’t imagine a time when you weren’t a hottie.”
“As f**king misguided as you are, I gotta say thanks for the compliment.”
With a grin, she took another sip of her beer. “So who was she?”
Shifting in my chair, I couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable with her questioning. I mean, where the hell was she going with this? And now because she had brought it up, I couldn’t help wanting to know the same shit about her…or did I?
“You want me to elaborate about losing my virginity?”
“Of course. After all, elaboration is the key element of Southern storytelling, and we are in the most Southern city in the South.”
“True, very true.” I took a long pull from my longneck. For reasons I couldn’t even fathom, I felt the need to defend myself to Allison. “The thing is, I had gotten some action, but I still hadn’t sealed the deal, so to speak.”
“Lovely,” Allison said, wrinkling her nose.
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted me to elaborate.”
She laughed. “You’re right. Please continue.”
“By the time I’d turned nineteen, things finally were looking up for me. I’d just met Jake and the other guys, and we were starting to play at Eastman’s. After being sick, I got put on steroids and started beefing up. I got Lasik surgery, and my mother actually gave me a year’s supply of chemical peels for my acne as a birthday present.”
“But you digress,” Allison said, with a grin.
“I’m trying to save face here about why I was so old when I lost my virginity.”
“Pray continue.”
I laughed. “Anyway, her name was Melanie. She was in some of my law classes at Emory. Since I was feeling more confident, I got up the nerve to ask her out. Thankfully, she said yes, and we started dating.”
Surprise filled Allison’s face. “Oh, so you have been in a relationship.”
“A few, yeah. None really lasted a long time. I did have my heart broken when I was twenty-one.”
“Interesting. And where was the deed done?”
With a wink, I replied, “In a pretty posh suite at the Ritz in Atlanta.”
Her eyes bulged. “Really?”
“Hey, give me some credit here. I’m not the type of guy to lose it in the backseat of a car.”
She giggled. “No, I can’t see you doing that.” Leaning her elbows on the table, she added with a teasing lilt to her voice, “Of course, you had to pick somewhere high-end. Couldn’t lose the V-Card at the Holiday Inn, could you?”
“Hey now. I can’t help how I was raised, even if I try to escape it as often as I can.”
“So we know you had a posh first experience. But what about the relationship itself? How long did it last between the two of you?”
Tilting my head, I delved into my past. “Six months. She was a few years older than me.” At Allison’s continued questioning expression, I said, “She wanted more—a whole lot more than I was ready or willing to give at nineteen.”
“I see,” she murmured.
“And what about you?” When her usual red flush tinged Allison’s cheeks, I shook my head. “Oh no, don’t think you’re getting out of this one.”
“I’m not,” she huffed.
“Then spill it.”
“Fine,” she muttered. I turned a laugh into a cough when she squared her shoulders determinedly while downing the rest of her beer. “I was seventeen.”
“Man, you beat me by two years, huh?”
“Sex is never a competition.”
“Sometimes it is to see who will finish first,” I mused, which caused her to blush. “Anyway, please continue with the sordid details.”
“Like you, I was in a relationship. Dylan and I started dating when I was sixteen.”
Holding up my hand, I asked, “Just how old was he?”
“Eighteen.”
“Older man, huh?”
With a slight shrug, she replied, “I was a junior, and he was a senior.”
“Cradle robber,” I teased.
“I would hardly call that age difference cradle robbing.”
“Was he like the typical older guy who dated younger girls to get one thing?”
“Not exactly. I mean, our six month anniversary fell right after my seventeenth birthday, and he hadn’t really been pressuring me or demanding anything of me.”
“So where did you do the deed?”
A shy smile pulled at the corners of her lips. “Jake’s farm.”