So, Cindy was right. I think about sex a lot now. I mean, a lot.

It’s been a couple of weeks since we had sex for the first time. In that time, I’ve stayed over at his place almost exclusively. The next night, I went home, avoided eye contact with my brothers, and quickly left the next day. I’ve been home just once since. Javier and Miguel haven’t texted me, accept to remind me of an upcoming trip our family takes every year. Tomás has messaged me more, but when I tell him I’m staying over at Micah’s, he replies back with, “Okay. Don’t say anything else.”

But back to the sex … you see? It’s always on my mind. And now that the “first time” is over, it’s easier to broach the topic. Or, maybe I should say, tackle the topic. Because that’s what I’ve done. Multiple times.

Sometimes when we’re sleeping, I wake up to shift the covers, feel him there, and … well, that’s that.

A few days ago, I decided to catch up on my reading list. While I was lounging in bed, he walked into the room after showering and kissed my neck softly. “What are you reading?”

“The latest CoHo book.”

“Good?”

“No,” I side-eye him, “it’s amazing.”

Chuckling, he kisses me again, then reaches over and grabs his iPad, opening an app to read a comic. We read quietly, my legs crossing over his when he speaks up. “I haven’t worked on my comic in a while. I need to get on that.”

“You should,” I tell him, snuggling closer to him, tapping my phone to turn the page.

It’s then that something strikes me. Glancing over at him, he’s staring intently at his screen, and I start to giggle. It’s soft at first, and I try to stifle it, returning my attention to my book, but it continues to build. The giggle turns into laughter, and I set my phone down, bringing my hand to my mouth in hopes of trying to stop it. It doesn’t work.

“What?” he asks with a smirk.

“It’s just—” The words are cut off by my laughs. He’s still smiling, but he’s eyeing me cautiously. “I can’t … it’s just … we’re reading.”

“Yeah. So?”

More laughter. “Are we old?”

“What are you talking about?”

I lean into him, the laughter getting louder. “It’s nine o’clock. We’re lying in bed, not out partying but … reading!”

His eyes narrow, a mischievous smirk crossing his lips, and he grabs my phone from me.

“Hey,” I exclaim.

He puts it with his tablet, setting them off to the side, then rolls over on top of me, attacking my neck with his lips. “You brought this on yourself.”

There was no more reading that night.

But of everything, all things being equal, I think my favorite is morning sex. I know I’m not as experienced as Cindy, but there’s no way she could’ve adequately explained how great morning sex is. I mean … amazing doesn’t begin to describe it.

I love it when he initiates it, but I really love it when I do. Knowing that I’m turning him on, it turns me on.

His hands run over my legs and slide up my back, under my shirt. I still haven’t taken it off. I go to sleep feeling warm and loved by him, but waking up like this is incredible.

His chest is heaving, his lips connect with mine, and he kisses me, long and deep. My lips break away from his, resting my forehead against his.

As he holds me, I feel him everywhere, and bite my bottom lip so hard I think I may have drawn blood. His thumb slides over my lips, our eyes locked on one another. “I love you so much. You’re so beautiful.”

His words are so honest, I even feel them. They’re a weight tied around my heart, and whenever he speaks, they tighten, binding me to him. A loud moan escapes me again before I scream out his name and fall against him.

Our warm breaths mixing with one another’s, he’s about to kiss me again when we’re jolted from our euphoria.

“Shut the fuck up in there!” Taylor’s voice echoes through the apartment. “We don’t live in a porn studio!”

My eyes widen, biting my lip in embarrassment. Micah smirks up at me as I roll off of him. I’m not as embarrassed as the first time Taylor said he heard me. All of the time before having sex, wondering how it’d feel, or how much I’d enjoy it, I never gave a second thought on whether I’d be loud while doing it.

“Okay, I’m leaving for work,” Taylor shouts. “You can continue screaming your brains out.”

My face burns. “I really have to work on that.”

Micah rolls on his side, wrapping his arms around me. As much as I love the connection we share, and as incredible as it feels, there’s nothing that feels better than when he wraps his arms around me right after. “You really don’t,” he whispers, his lips grazing my ear. “He’s just jealous because he hasn’t gotten any for a while.”

“Micah, I’m too loud.”

“No, you’re not, V. I love it when you’re loud. And I love it when you tell me what you like.” He presses his lips against my cheek, his hand traveling up my thigh.

I turn so I’m facing him. “You just like it when I say your name.”

“Yeah, that too.” His hand skims over my waist, and he runs his fingers over the hem of my shirt. “When do you think you might take this off?”

He’s only asked me once before. And even then, it wasn’t a request, just a simple question if I wanted to leave my shirt on or not. I love that it’s okay with him that I’m not as comfortable with my body as he is with his. I wish I were. I wish I could sleep with him, not even have sex, but just sleep next to him, skin to skin. Or even in that present Cindy got me, which I have thought about, but still haven’t dared to break out.

He’s next to me right now, his arms still around me, and he’s completely naked. But he’s shaped like a Greek god, or at least, a demi-god. How am I supposed to compare to that? He’s never brought up my weight. Not once. But I’m still self-conscious about it.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” I say, ignoring his question.

His eyes stay on me, a knowing smile on his face. “When do you have to leave? I can’t believe you’re leaving me for a week. How am I going to survive?”

“Toto said we’re leaving at eleven, so I have a couple more hours.”

I scamper out of bed, pulling my shirt below my butt. Grabbing some clothes out of my drawer, I head to the bathroom, casting a glance back at him before closing the door. He smiles, and if I were wearing panties, they’d be dropping. Again.

Letting the water warm, the bathroom begins to steam up. I step into the shower, and the water falls over me while my fingers trace over my stomach.

Ten more pounds.

When I lose ten more pounds, I’ll take my shirt off in front of him. Things probably won’t be as noticeable. Even if he’s told me he loves me, and holds me like I’m what he wants while we’re intimate, my mind doesn’t think of Micah first. It thinks of Tim and his damn words. It doesn’t matter that Micah hasn’t said that and now, has technically been with a big girl. The words still sting. I hate that that’s where my mind goes, but it’s where it’s always gone.

After the shower, I head back into the room, folding the shirt I just slept in. “I’m taking this.” I stuff it in my bag.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone, as he nods. “Ensenada has some gorgeous beaches.” He waves his phone at me.

“Yeah, they’re pretty nice.”

“I’m gonna miss you.”

His voice is almost somber. I walk over to him, our arms wrap around each other, and he lays his head over my chest. “It’ll only be a week, Micah.”

“I know.” He nods. “I was thinking right now …”

“Okay?”

“Veronica, you know I love you, right?” He looks up at me, his eyes latching onto mine.

“Of course. I love you, too.”

“So, I don’t care if you want to wear my shirts forever while we sleep together. I just want you to be comfortable with yourself, and know that I think you’re gorgeous.”

Can he get any more perfect? My eyes start to tear, and I lean down and kiss his forehead. “Thank you.”

“With that said,” his voice switches to a more lighthearted tone; cupping his hands over my butt, he smirks, “I order you to keep on my shirt and forbid you to take it off while you’re in Mexico, without me around. And I’ll be texting you every single day, making sure there aren’t any guys down there hitting on my girl.”

Laughing, I lean down again, this time kissing his lips. “Dumb boy.”