Chapter 8 Sex doesn't matter in marriage
“A purity ring. You know what that is?” I repeated. “People wear them as a promise to stay abstinent until marriage.”
“No, I know what it means, but why are you wearing it?” He paused for a second. “Oh, wait, are you telling me you are actually doing that?” He waited for my answer.
I gave a slow nod.
“Are you for real? Wait, you are a virgin?” I could hear the mocking tone in his voice.
I decided not to answer that. But I saw Ryan’s eyes light up, like he had found the most interesting topic in the world.
“Do not tell me you are one of those crazy Christian freaks?” he teased.
“No,” I said, feeling a spike of anger. “I did not do it because of religion. I decided to do it because I want to. I just believe it is a smart decision.” I tried to keep my voice calm and not let my anger show.
“Well, I will be fucked,” he chuckled, like he could not believe it. “Look, honey, you have to have sex before you marry a guy, all right? How else will you know if you are good together? What happens if you get married and then find out the sex is bad?” He spoke to me like I was a little kid.
“Well, first of all, I believe there is more to marriage than just sex. There is more to any relationship than that. Second, if I never have sex to begin with, how would I even know if it is bad? And third… do not call me honey,” I was burning up inside, and my inner New York attitude was coming out.
Ryan could not help but smile. I hated that he found my choice so funny.
“Okay, so if it is not about religion, why did you choose it?”
I wondered if I should tell him the real reason. I do not tell anyone about what happened with Cassian. I have always wanted to wait until marriage. And technically, I am still a virgin because Cassian did not actually go that far. He didn’t penetrate me and I am so sure my hymen hasn’t broken. I have forgiven myself and moved on. I knew Ryan would just make fun of me no matter what. I knew his type; he would probably just call me a prude.
“Because… I like to believe… that love is actually real, you know?” I finally answered.
“What do you mean?” he pressed.
“I do not know. I want to believe there is a guy out there who is willing to wait for me. Someone who will love me no matter what, no matter how good or bad the sex is between us, no matter if we are rich or poor, no matter how pretty or ugly I might become…” My voice faded.
Ryan could only stare at me. His jaw actually dropped, and then he broke into loud laughter. I rolled my eyes, deeply offended.
“Good luck finding that fucking unicorn, honey,” he got out between laughs.
“My name is not honey. Stop calling me that,” I shot back. “It is Seraphina. With a S.”
“Ah, sorry, force of habit,” he replied. I looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “It is just that I hang out with so many girls, I can not possibly remember all their names, you know? So I just call everyone honey,” he explained. And he seemed proud of it.
“Holy shit, Seraphina with a S, you are a virgin,” he repeated to himself in that same teasing voice.
I wanted to wipe that smug grin right off his face. Why was the fact that I am a virgin so hilarious to him?
So I am a virgin, big deal. A lot of people in the world are. But probably not him. Yeah, definitely not him.
“So, Ry, I guess you go out on a lot of dates, huh?” I said, trying to sound like I did not care at all.
“Not really. I do not do dates, it is too much work. Dates are just the appetizer. I like to go straight for the main course, you know what I mean,” he replied with a wink.
“That is disgusting. Too much information,” I cut him off.
“Man-whore,” I muttered under my breath, so quiet I thought he would not hear.
“You calling me a whore? Okay, prude,” he fired back.
“Well, better that than a man-whore,” I snapped.
“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night. But me, I sleep great, especially after one or two rounds of…”
“La la la la!” I cut him off, putting my hands over my ears and singing loudly to drown out his voice.
He laughed, a wild grin on his face. Sure, make fun of me, the good old prude, whatever. I rolled my eyes and moved as close to my door as I could, staring out the window. I did not want to talk to him anymore.
Ryan got the message. He knew I was mad.
“Hey, do not be mad,” he said, nudging my shoulder, but I pulled away from his touch.
He sighed to himself, then looked out his window and spotted a cozy-looking diner. He must have been thirsty, because he pulled into the drive-thru and ordered two large milkshakes. When he got the two large cups, he handed one to me and started drinking from the other.
“Mhhmm, damn, this is so good. Maybe even as good as sex,” he said, teasing me again.
Why are we still talking about this?
“What is this?” I asked, pointing to the cup he had given me.
“It is only the best milkshake in the whole world! Consider it a welcome treat for my new little sister,” he said, sounding proud.
I looked at him with suspicion and tried to hand the cup back. “I do not want it.”
“The milkshake or the sex?” he teased me again.
I rolled my eyes and turned my face away, ignoring the milkshake he was holding right in front of me.
“Oh, come on, I promise, it is worth your time,” he said, moving the cup around so the straw brushed against my lips. “Come on, just one sip. Try it, try it, try it.”
“Agh! Ryan! You are so annoying!” I grabbed the cup from him, angry.
“Look at us, barely a day in and already fighting like cats and dogs. We are going to make great siblings, do not you think?” he grinned.
Psh. Trying to bribe me with a milkshake? What does he think I am, five years old?
And as angry and as annoyed as I was, I took a sip of that damn milkshake.
And fuck, he was right. It was the best milkshake in the whole entire world.