A brief but hesitant smile graces the mouth of their guest and he answers, “It was actually amazing.”
“What happened?”
“Who was she?” Chloe asks at the same time.
“Her name was Regan. She was funny, beautiful, and I didn’t deserve her.”
Ben instantly relates to the scenario and asks, “So, what’s the story?”
Zach, fiddling with the expensive Canon, answers, “I was originally supposed to be going with someone else as friends. The day before Prom, my crush, the one I’d liked all through high school broke up with her boyfriend. She was in my art class and by the time we got to fifth period, I knew I had to make my move.”
“What did you do?” asks Chloe.
“She was a senior and I was a junior and I knew I was never going to see her again after graduation. Prom was the week before finals, so I knew it was a now or never situation. This late in the semester, senioritis had set in for everyone, so the art teacher wasn’t paying attention.”
“How did you ask?” Ben questions. Even though he and Chloe have been dating a few months, when he asked her to Prom, he still didn’t believe she would say yes. The fact they were here and prepared to take their relationship to the next level had Ben believing in all the clichés that surrounded the most sacred of high school events.
“I can’t believe you care about this. It’s an ancient memory.”
“Indulge us,” says Chloe.
Zach smiles and says, “I actually just blurted it out. I wasn’t smooth or cool or any of the things I thought or hoped I would be.”
“What did she say?”
“Obviously, my question had a different impact on her than it had on me. Basically, she just shrugged her shoulders and said ‘I already have a dress.’ Somehow, in my mind, I thought this meant she was in love with me.”
“And?”
“I won’t bore you with all the hopeless details, but basically, my first mistake was deciding I should cut my own hair on the day of Prom. Also, the corsage I got her, she was allergic to, but somehow through all my mistakes we had a great night.”
“Did she fall in love with you?” Ben asks.
“It wasn’t meant to be. She didn’t fall in love with me, nor is she my wife today. Regan left for college and all I got were some lame pictures of me in a rented tux.”
Both Chloe and Ben look upset at the outcome of Zach’s evening.
“No,” Zach puts his hands up and continues, “It’s not like that – she was perfectly nice about letting me down. My seventeen-year-old self was devastated at the time, but things worked out how they were supposed to. I was an immature idiot back then and I’m not sure that much has changed.”
“Did you ever get over her?” Chloe asks.
“It took a long time. In fact, requited or not, I’m not sure if anyone ever gets over their first love.”
The pair looks at each other, then Chloe says, “Are you in a better mood to take some pictures?”
Zach clocks a lens into place and says, “Yeah, and look, I’m sorry, I was supposed to be here earlier and get all the ‘getting ready’ pictures.”
“It’s no problem,” Chloe assures the photographer, “And hey, you haven’t missed Ben giving me the corsage.”
“Before we do that, let’s get Chloe out on the patio. The lighting is fantastic, and Ben, I think you’ll agree, she’s looks great.”
The younger man, appreciating the ‘bro code’ moment, says, “She really does.”
Nearly an hour later, the trio captured any number of pictures and it occurs to Ben this well documented adventure will be a strange, but perfect way to have captured the exact place he lost his virginity. As Zach packs his equipment up, he asks, “Would you guys mind if I add your images to my portfolio?”
“No problem,” Chloe says.
Offering his arm to his date, Ben asks, “Shall we go?”
“Yes, let’s.”
“You kids have fun,” says Zach.
“Get home to your wife,” Chloe shoots back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
May 26, 12:15 A.M.
Some hours later, hand in hand the sweaty, happy and exhilarated couple return. Chloe holds her silver Stuart Weitzman heels from one hand, and her once glorious corsage clings by the barest of strands to her wrist. Their room is once again in order, with Vosges chocolates waiting on their pillow.
Forcing himself to breathe normally, Ben turns to his girlfriend and asks, “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Nothing would make this night better.” To prove her point, Chloe unzips her dress, letting the garment pool on the floor. She stands in a tiny set of matching La Perla. Ben, for all his eighteen years, is only human. As much as he wants to be careful and tender, after viewing his barely clad girlfriend, all of these thoughts go out of the window. From entering the room, his existence has been a lesson in strict self-control. He’s already masturbated twice today, furtively jerking off in hopes he might actually not lose himself entirely when they make love. Grinding on the dance floor did nothing to help relieve the pressure. All day, he’s forced himself to believe they won’t actually have sex. He doesn’t want to pressure her. Doesn’t want to be the boyfriend making her do something she doesn’t want to do. They’ve been close. There was an incident two weeks ago when they were on the verge of actual penetration, but the housekeeper turned up and saved the couple from losing their respective virginities on the floor of the den.
Since then, they agreed the event should be something more special and not just an event to idly check off a list on a random Wednesday.
Forcing himself not to throw Chloe over his shoulder and over to the bed, Ben takes her hand gently and leads her to the mattress. Kissing her gently, their embrace deepens. With hormones running unchecked and no one to interrupt them, Ben’s tuxedo is quickly discarded, with both of their undergarments shortly following leaving two naked, heavily breathing young adults. For a few seconds, Ben can’t even put a sentence together. He’s never been in the presence of a naked woman. To see one that he loves makes this experience even more incredible.
“I can get the condom…” His gravelly voice trails away.
“No.”
“What?”
She blushes and answers, “I’ve been on birth control for over a month. And you haven’t been with anyone else, right?”
He nods.
Her voice is shaky as she says, “So, I don’t want some sort of latex in the way…”
“If you’re sure.”
Rather than answer, Chloe suddenly feels the room is too quiet and reaches out to turn on her iPhone still plugged into the bedside speaker. More nervous than she expects to be, she accidentally flips on the radio and loud Spanish music comes blaring on over the speakers. Turning red and trying to steady her shaking hands, she begins pressing a bunch of buttons until Ben calmly moves over her and shuts the racket off.
Tangled up, they begin laughing. Ben’s eyes darken and he asks, “What did you want to play?”
Calmer now, Chloe nods and scrolls through her digital library and chooses the ‘Slow’ mix she had put together in preparation of tonight.
“Better?” Ben asks, unsure how close he should be to her, hyper aware his dick keeps getting in the way, insistent on where it wants to be.
“Yes.”
“Are you ready?”
She feels prepared, but also tense. Her voice quiet, she looks away from his too intense gaze and says, “You’ll still like me if I do it wrong, right?”
“There is nothing about you I couldn’t love.”
Ben places a gentle kiss on her brow, then takes a deep breath and positions himself above her smaller frame. This motion feels comfortable to her, even good. After all, they’ve certainly simulated sex on numerous occasions, and she’s always known something was missing in the equation. Wrapping her smooth legs around his midsection, she tenses again.
&nbs
p; Hoisted above her, resting on his forearms on either side of her head, Ben tenderly brushes a piece of hair from her face and, after kissing her deeply, says, “I don’t know much, but I know you’re going to have to relax or this is going to be painful for you.”
“Okay.” Chloe tries to tell her body to loosen up, but doesn’t have much luck.
Sensing her frustration, Ben comments lightly, “I think I saw some, um, sort of kit on the bed stand.”
“If you think we might need it…”
Ben thinks of the logistics of what physically needs to happen and figures some lubricant isn’t going to hurt anyone. Grabbing the box off the stand, he rips open the kit, with slightly shaking hands he somehow manages to open the package. Sliding some of the liquid on his sensitive skin, he places himself above his girlfriend. She releases a breath and he reaches between them, adjusting himself so he is close and sensing some pressure, he pushes ahead, into the heat.
The pressure is sharp, uncomfortable, then over. Unsure the exact mechanics of what is going on and too embarrassed to look down, Chloe asks above a quietly singing Chris Martin, “Is it…are we?”
Ben’s only response is to breathe heavily. Somehow, he manages to nod. For him, there are simply too many feelings overloading his sense at once. Fighting to catch his breath, he says, “I’m going to move now. Is that okay?”
She nods.
A million images pass through his head. From all the porn he’s seen to how he thought their previous adventures in dry humping were going to be even close to how this moment feels. He tries to think about anything else, except he can’t. He ejaculates. The whole experience has to be the longest two minutes of his life.
Chloe lies underneath him, trying to sort through her complicated feelings. Being naked with her boyfriend feels wonderful. The pain wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. A wide eyed and breathing heavily Ben carefully disentangles himself from her body and lies next to her.
Chloe wants to say something, but isn’t sure what the right thing is. She wants to be mature and sophisticated, but comes up short.
Ben rolls in her direction and looks at her, eye level across the pillows and, stroking her still coiffed hair, he says, “Thank you.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re Chloe Winterhaven. You could have any guy in our school, in this city or the world, and you like me. You let me… I mean, we just…”
“And?”
“Not only do you like me, you let me take you to Prom and you share something awesome with me. I thought moving to L.A. was going to be this terrible thing, but it turned out wonderful. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Chloe feels flattered, then embarrassed as she feels something happen below her waist. Dashing out of bed, she runs for the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, there is a strange sensation, a different smell. Adjusting herself, she doesn’t feel any different. Not really. And now what? Is she supposed to go back to Ben? Are they going to do it again? Was she good? Was he good? Who defines ‘good’ anyway? Is he going to tell everyone? What will he tell them? What at first seemed like a good idea, now appears a terrible decision. She wants to call Pepper, but has forgotten her phone. And what would she say?
Knowing she has to get over herself, Chloe grabs some toilet paper, wipes away the rest of the evidence and flushes the toilet. Sex is not as bad as she thought it would be, but does she want to do it again?
There is a knock on the door, and feeling vulnerable, Chloe grabs the robe and answers in a wavery voice, “Yes?”
“Are you okay? Is everything okay?” From the other side of the door, Ben isn’t sure what is going on. Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt her in some way? Although he knows it was probably the best minute or so of his life, he hopes the experience was the same for his girlfriend. Having never been in a serious relationship before and certainly never having had sex before, Ben isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do next. He decides to try one more time, and, tapping gently on the door, asks, “Chloe?”
“What?”
“I… Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
Inside the bathroom, Chloe tries to tell herself she’s overly emotional because of all that’s happened today. Prom, sharing a room with her boyfriend…losing her virginity.
Ben knows her tone of voice. He can recognize when his girlfriend was lying. Judging by her comment, he thinks she is mostly okay, but not entirely. After putting his boxers back on, he leans on the bathroom door and asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Chloe, in her robe, looks at herself in the mirror. Although she thinks her feelings clichéd, she can’t help but wonder if people will be able to tell there’s something different about her now that she’s no longer a virgin.
“Do you have any regrets?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Will you come out?”
Chloe, with aspirations of being a serious actress, daughter of a Miss America runner-up, is not easily made shy, but now the thought of facing someone she’s been so intimate with seems a nearly impossible feat.
“Not yet.”
Having nowhere else to go, Ben looks around the suite. The room is still almost too grand to even believe he’s here. By moving to Los Angeles, the senior hadn’t expected to meet Chloe Winterhaven, or fall in love with her, or have her like him…or take her to Prom and have sex with her. Now, he doesn’t want to frighten her away or make her feel embarrassed or uncomfortable. In fact, he wants the exact opposite. He wants her to get back into bed and try having sex again. He isn’t going to lie to himself. Not that he is addicted, but it seems terribly unfair to only have sex once.
“You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to, but I am going to need someone to help decide what to order from room service.”
There is no answer. The truth is, Ben is practically starving. After leaving the room, they had met some of Chloe’s other friends for sushi, and while Ben had surprisingly developed a taste for uncooked fish, no matter how much he ate, the food was never filling, especially after dancing and having sex for the first time. What he really wants is a quarter pounder and extra fries from McDonald’s, but given this is Beverly Hills, he doesn’t think there is one in the city limits. Also, he doesn’t have a car. Hoping his silly ruse would bring her out, he starts listing off foods he knows she doesn’t like, “So, first I’m going to call up room services and get a giant plate of mushrooms, followed by a big bowl of mozzarella, and to top it off, nothing but white chocolate.”
The door cracks open and Ben feels success. Chloe, wrapped in the hotel robe, sits on the floor opposite to him and, with relief, she sees a familiar smile glance in his direction. She says, “Only if we can have pumpkin soup to go with it.”
He tentatively smiles back at her and says, “Who wants to eat pumpkins? I cannot understand anyone’s desire to consume such a vegetable.”
“Fruit.”
“See, it can’t even make up its mind of what it wants to be!”
She reaches a hand out, and he extends his own meeting hers on the floor. She says, “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“Being amazing.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
June 2, 4:05 P.M.
The pair take their seats silently. Nancy looks over at her patient, who is obviously distraught. Usually when Oscar comes to their sessions, he’s relaxed, but today he seems especially agitated. Pulling out her notes, the psychiatrist asks, “Is there something specific you would like to discuss? You moved our appointment up by a few days. Is it about Dani?”
“Sort of…” Breaking eye contact, he looks off.
“Didn’t you make progress when you went home?”
“Umm…”
“Is this about the game?” Nancy asks gently. “If I’m not mistaken, the NBA season is in the middle of Finals, correct?”
“They are.”
“Listen, Oscar, as much as I care about your mental health, even I would understand if you needed time to concentrate. Are you concerned about your playing? Is the pressure too much?”
“No, it’s not about that.”
“What is this about?”
Looking out the window into the June gloom that has taken over the city, he answers, “There was a girl.”
Subconsciously, even though Nancy has not wanted to believe the hype and rumor surrounding professional athletes, a small part of her has always wondered how much of the stereotype was true. She does believe that Oscar is faithful to his wife, but unlike most normal married men, he is presented with many more opportunities for infidelity than the average spouse. Trying to keep any amount of judgement out of her voice, Nancy asks neutrally, “Where did you meet her?”
“After we won the first game.”
“That was only a few days ago.”
“I know.”
“What is this woman like? Did you intentionally go to meet her?”
“Maybe.”
“Where?”
“I went to a bar.”
“What do you usually do after a game?”
Oscar does not respond.
“Oscar?”
“Dani and I have this tradition.”
“Which is?”
“She leaves and by the time I do all the post game stuff and get home, she makes me a big breakfast.”
“Why didn’t you go home? Can you explain what happened?”
“These women, Doc, they are everywhere.”
“I believe you.”
“And the other guys…maybe they have some sort of arrangement with the women in their lives…”
“Have you ever asked them?”
“Hell no. What goes on between one of my teammates and whoever is in their bed is between them. I’m not going to tell on anyone or judge them. After all, our job is to play basketball – as long as what they do off the court doesn’t effect their game, then I’m not going to get involved.”
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