Tyler's POV

"Baby, I'm so sorry," I tell her, cradling her face. "I forgot to use protection." I watch her eyes for signs of panic, but she seems surprisingly calm. "I know, I'm a total idiot...I guess I lost my head, and didn't think--" I'm so pissed off at myself I can barely speak. This literally never happens to me. I'm always on top of basic shit like this. But I suppose when I'm so high off Carrie it actually affects my brain function.

"Don't worry, I'm on birth control," she assures me, and I feel a huge weight being lifted off my shoulders. "Unless...do you mean..." suddenly her expression looks horrified. "Tyler, do you have an STD?"

"No, no, of course not. I wouldn't dare touch you unless I was all clean, Carrie. Jesus, who do you take me for? I was tested just a couple of months ago."

Carrie, chews on her lip, and averts her eyes. "Do you get tested often because you sleep around so much?" she asks.

"I didn't say I get tested often, I said I got tested recently...because the woman I was in a relationship with was cheating on me, and I didn't want to take any chances. And Carrie, despite of what you assume about me, I don't sleep around, at least not for the last couple of years."

Carrie doesn't seem comforted by what I just shared. I tilt her chin up so that she meets my eyes.

"I can tell you have a lot of questions. And the truth is, I want to share everything with you. I don't want you to to have any doubts about me...about us."

"Will you tell me about your past?" she asks.

"I'll tell you what. That chicken florentine is still sitting in the bag in the entryway. How about I serve us up some dinner, and I'll tell you anything you'd like to know."

Carrie nods, and smiles at me. She straightens her skirt, and attempts to tie up her blouse, since the buttons have popped off.

"Sorry about your top. I'll buy you a new one," I promise her.

"I can just sew the buttons back on," she tells me.

"Carrie, please, it's the least I can do," I insist.

She rolls her eyes, but agrees.

I heat up the chicken, and we sit at the counter of my kitchen, finally enjoying our belated dinner.

"Okay, so, fire away," I welcome her queries. "Ask me anything, and I'll be completely honest and open with you."

"Okay...When did you lose your virginity?" she boldly asks.

"I was fifteen."

"That's kind of young."

"Yeah, well, she was a couple of years older."

"Tell me the story," she asks, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"There isn't much to tell. She was a senior, and I was captain of the JV soccer team. I asked her out to go to a school dance, homecoming, I think it was. And I was sure she'd say 'no' since I was younger, but she said 'yes'. I was almost in disbelief, because she was very pretty, and I figured she was kind of out of my league. So, anyway, we went to the dance, and after the first slow song, she said we should go listen to some music in her car, so we did. It was her idea really, I was clueless as to what to do, and nervous as all hell, but she showed me the ropes, so to speak."

"So you did it in her car?"

"Yup. The back seat of her Toyota Celica. It was over in like five minutes, but I thought it was epic."

"I bet. And what happened then?"

"Um, well, I naively thought after that she'd be my girlfriend, but she had other ideas. Turns out she said 'yes' to a lot of guys, like half of my soccer team had already seen the backseat of that Toyota."

"Oh, no. Were you crushed?"

"I was. I mean, she was my first, but it turns out she wasn't mine at all. I got over it fairly quickly, though. I revenge fucked one of her friends."

"Jeez." Carrie's eyes are wide with shock.

"I know. Hurt people hurt people, right?"

"I guess so," she says, but her tone is not convincing. "Did you ever have a girlfriend in high school?" she asks.

"I did. Senior year. This foreign exchange student from Australia came to our school for the year, and she was wicked hot, everyone wanted to fuck this girl. So, naturally, I made it my goal in life to fuck her first."

"And did you?"

"I did, and also, I ended up falling in love with her. Like hardcore, first love. It was madness. We were completely consumed by one another. My grades became shit. Nothing else mattered as long as we were together."

"Wow. And then what?"

"And then, she left to go back to Australia right after graduation."

"Brutal."

"You're telling me. I was a total wreck. I begged her parents to let her stay for the summer, but they weren't having it. We did keep it touch by writing letters, like handwritten pages of raw emotion, none of this email emoji crap. But, predictably, as the summer went on, her letters became less and less frequent, and more and more detached in sentiment. I knew it was over by August."

"And you never contacted her since?"

"Nope. I mean, that was high school! I've had far more serious relationships since then. But she was my first love, I suppose."

"What happened after you went to college?"

"College is a blur. I was in a fraternity, so my studies definitely suffered, what with a party at the house every other day, and women, god, it was like shooting fish in a barrell. I barely had to say a few witty words, and the girls would drop their panties. It was too easy. And I was addicted. Sex became an expected part of the routine. Get breakfast, go to class, grab a beer with friends, get laid at the house, maybe study. It wasn't until I met Janelle, my junior year that I began my first adult monogamous relationship. At first it felt exciting. To have just one girl to care for, and to woo, and spoil, and to be intimate with. It really did feel special, but then it turned into a lot of fucking rules. She'd like to tell me what was okay to do and say around her, and she tried to get me to change my career goals, and then I met her parents and I understood why she was the way she was. Her dad was some gazillionaire from Dubai, and he expected his daughter to marry into money, so I hardly qualified at that point. Cut the story short, I broke it off with her, and she turned into a nasty bitch. She wrote me a hate letter basically saying she never loved me, and that I'll never amount to anything. I was pretty pissed and disgusted, mainly with myself for letting her get to me, and for wasting six months of my life on her."

"So, what did you do after you broke up? Did you meet a nice girl?" she asks, resting her cheek in her hand.

"Not until after college. I spent two years in Europe after graduating, learning the restaurant business, travelling, trying new foods,... getting to know European women..." I can see Carrie scrunch up her nose with displeasure, and I find her little jealousy beyond adorable. But I did promise to her I'd be honest. She asked for it. "I spent most of my early twenties sowing my wild oats," I tell her honestly. "When I got back to America I met Nicole. We were together for nearly a year. We even considered moving in together, thank god we didn't."

"Will you tell me what happened with her?"

"Suffice it to say, she pretty much destroyed my trust."

"She cheated on you."

"Yes, and not because she fell in love with someone else. That I could wrap my mind around. She did it to further her career. It's fucking disgusting."

Carrie looks at me with sympathy, and that's exactly the look I've wanted to avoid.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," she tells me, and places her hand on my arm.

"It's a non issue, really. The truth is that ever since I met you, I mean that night we kissed in the dark, it's like everything shifted for me. You brought light back in my life, Carrie," I tell her, and scoot her stool closer to mine. Our knees are touching, but it's not nearly enough contact for me.

"Come here," I tell her, and lead her out of the kitchen to my bedroom. I strip off my clothes, and take my time disrobing her. When we're both in our birthday suits, I take her by the hand and bring her into the bathroom, and turn on the shower.

"Get in," I tell her, and follow her inside the shower stall.