“I’m fine. Really. It was amazing, like always.”

“Mmkay.” His lips are getting lazy now. “I’ll get you next time. You’ll come so hard you’ll…I don’t know…just pretend I said something clever.”

I shake with silent laughs and play with his scruff as his breathing deepens. After-sex Landon is adorable. I bet he’ll be out in less than a minute.

Letting out a sigh, I turn to the ceiling, allowing my mind to slide back into the real world. Theresa and I used to call sex “Chocolateville” ever since she compared eating a double-fudge raspberry cheesecake to the best orgasm she ever had. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, I stole her plate and ate half.

I was in line at the skydive in Chocolateville while Landon jetted right past the guards. I’m really trying not to be disappointed, but it’s been a while. It’s my own damn fault. He obviously orgasms just as frequently as he did before.

He starts breathing heavy, his mouth partly open and half his face pressed into the pillow. I bite my smile back and poke his cheek. When he doesn’t move a muscle, I slide from the sheets, grab my phone, and do the crisscross after-sex walk to the bathroom, forgetting that I don’t need to. My fingers are already flying across the keyboard, texting Theresa when I shut the door.

I need to cash in on the pact we made on graduation. :) :)

I put the phone on the counter and take care of business, legs bouncing as I wait for her response. And of course Aunt Flo makes her appearance now. I grapple for the tampons and shout through the door, “Definitely not pregnant!” even though Landon is probably out of commission for the rest of the night.

My cell vibrates, so I speed through washing my hands to answer it.

“Hey,” I say, really trying the innocent thing, but I’m too stoked to pull it off.

“Are you in the bathroom?” Theresa sleepily chuckles. “Your voice is echoing.”

“I’m not peeing.” I crack the bathroom door and check on Landon. His entire body is covered with the comforter minus one leg dangling off the edge. I press the door closed and whisper into the phone. “So, can I cash in?”

“For real?”

“Hell yes.”

“You need a maid of honor?” Her voice squeaks on the last word, and I do a total Snoopy dance, buck naked in my bathroom, stifling my squeals with my girlfriend. Theresa asks question after question, but she’s rattling them off so fast I don’t understand them.

“Wait, what?” I say through my smile.

“When? How?”

“Few hours ago.” A large sigh flits through my lips as I grab a towel for my waist and slide to the chocolate brown bath mat. “It just fell out when we were in the shower.”

She snorts. “It wasn’t in the middle of sex, was it?”

“No. It was…sweet.” I let my mind replay Landon’s eyes, his words, his hands. “Perfect.”

“Good. You deserve nothing less.”

“Thanks.” My fingers splay across the bath mat, and I mindlessly pick at the fraying edge. “We did it after though.”

“Ah, engagement Chocolateville.” She sighs now, and I laugh picturing her taking that huge bite of cheesecake. “I’ve heard it’s up there with make-up sex.”

A weird weight sinks into my stomach. “It was nice.”

“Nice?” She gasps. “Oh no. Less than stellar, huh?”

“It was fine. I’ve just had so many mood swings. Then we couldn’t find a condom, so we had, like, a halftime breather. So, you know, not totally revved up. Not his fault.”

“That’s too bad. I’ve heard that engagement sex is better than the actual wedding night.”

“What? No.” I wrap my finger around a loose string in the mat and pull. “The wedding night will beat out everything.” It has to. I am determined to find our spark again specifically for that night.

“Think about it. You’re running around all day. Waking up early, getting dressed, undressed, standing in heels, hugging a million people you don’t know, lugging the presents up to your apartment after, or even worse…you might jump right onto a plane and the second you get to your hotel you’re jet-lagged and beat. You’ll probably draw straws for who can just lay there while the other person does the work.”

“Wow, thanks for that thought of encouragement.” I pull my towel around my chest and rest my forehead on my knees. “I was really looking forward to that night. First time with him as my husband.” My heart thumps hard when the word tumbles out. “He unzips my wedding dress, and I rip off his tie. We’re on a California King somewhere tropical and fun.” The honeymoon had better be somewhere tropical. My Southern ass freezes here on Long Island. I constantly have to put my feet against Landon’s legs to warm them up at night.

I blow out a breath, making the line fuzz. “Kind of ruins the whole picture if you’re telling me the sex will suck.”

“I’m just saying you’ll be tired.”

“I’ve been tired before and had epic sex.” Landon was gone for a month visiting his parents, and I jumped him the second he got off the plane. It was four in the morning, I hadn’t slept all night, and he was majorly jet-lagged. Did not matter at all. We started up in the car, he had me screaming in the front seat, screaming against the door when we got home, and we made it as far as the living room couch before landing double-fudge raspberry cheesecake together.

But that was, oh hell…I don’t know, a year ago? Maybe more.

“Well, do whatever you did that time.” Theresa laughs, and I sort of chuckle with her, my buzzed brain skipping tracks left and right. It was epic sex because we’d been waiting for it…anticipating it.

“Hmm…”

“What?” she asks through a yawn.

I pull at the bath mat again. “Do you think…?” My thoughts steal my voice as they run through my head. Sex with Landon is good. Always fun. It’s just not new. It’s…longtime-relationship sex. Scheduled, predictable, and usually ends with a snoring Landon and a bowl of ice cream. So how can I make sure I land a ticket to Chocolateville the day we become husband and wife? Oh my hell…will we even have sex on our wedding night?

Theresa clears her throat. “Do I think what?”

“You think maybe…we should wait?”

“Wait for what?”

“Like no sex until that night. Then it’ll be amazing because we’ll be dying for it.” It’s ridiculous. I don’t think Landon will go for it. But Theresa will tell me if I’m totally craz—

“I’ve heard of couples doing that,” she says, her tired voice picking up. “Sounds like a test in great restraint if you ask me, but also could be…well, fun.”

“You think?”

“Totally. When was the last time you guys went as far as you could without going there? I think it’s exciting. Might bring something back…”

I want to defend my sex life, but my mind is on the track she painted. My heart warms and thumps as a grin spreads across my face. Foreplay without sex could amp us both up so much our wedding night will be one I can guarantee we won’t forget. I have to clench my legs together just thinking about it.

It will be like new relationship sex all over again.

“Landon probably won’t go for it.”

She yawns again, and I look at the Beetlejuice clock on the bathroom counter. It’s 2:39 in the morning, and she hasn’t said a single word about waking her up in the middle of the night. I love my best friend.

“No harm in asking, right?”

“I guess.”

“Then just ask.”

I set my jaw. “I will tomorrow. He’s totally crashed out.”

“Of course he is.” She makes a noise like she’s stretching, and I automatically stretch too. “And you have to show me the ring tomorrow.”

“As soon as I get it.”

“It’s not on your finger?”

I stare at my bare hand. “Not yet. He said it’s somewhere in the apartment, but, well, we got distracted.”

She lets out a tired laugh. “Clearly.”

“Okay, you can sleep.”

“I’m good, I promise. I can still talk if you want.”