Page 37 of Wish Upon A Star

A lift of a shoulder. “I’m…I’m feeling all sorts of ways. It’s a lot and it’s confusing.”

“Tell me. Talk to me.”

She leans in against me, and I gather her close, arms around her, the top of her head fitting perfectly under my jaw. “I feel emotional—that this is real, that I’m here, with you. That you want to kiss me. That I get to be here with you, like this.” A quiet moment, just our not-quite synchronized breathing. “I also feel…” she trails off. “God, I don’t know how to say it.”

“However you want. However it’s true, whatever it is.”

She nuzzles closer. Her hands lock around my waist. She breathes in, as if to memorize my scent. “Physically, I feel…” Another shrug, a gesture of helplessness to find the right words. “A lot.”

“Like what, Jo? Don’t…don’t feel embarrassed. We can talk about things.”

She doesn’t reply for a moment. “Okay, well…god, it’s so many things. I wasthisclose to turning around, earlier. Just to…to…I don’t even know. See what it felt like to be…naked. With someone. With you. Or, not all the way naked, obviously, but nearly. But I chickened out. I was too scared.”

“Of what?”

She huffs a laugh. “Of being topless in front of you? It’s embarrassing.”

I tilt her head up to look at me. “Why is it embarrassing?”

She’s crimson. “Wes, come on.”

“What?”

“Do I have to say it?”

I shake my head. “You don’thaveto say anything, Jo.”

Another huff. She tucks her chin down again. Resumes nuzzling against my chest. “I’m skinny. And flat. I’m not…” a sigh, trailing into silence. “I’m nothing like Alessa Howell. One of her boobs is probably bigger than both of mine put together.”

I can’t help a snort. “Jo…” I sigh. “I’m laughing because that was a funny turn of phrase. I’m not laughing at how you feel.” I hunt for the right way to reassure her. “I’m not comparing.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because…” I can hear her jaw grinding. “Because I don’t feel—because I’m worried you’ll…”

“What, Jo?”

“I just feel like you won’t like how I look. Naked, I mean. Sure, maybe you think I have a beautiful face. Beautiful eyes, a beautiful soul. All that. But that’s not…it doesn’t change the fact that I have all the curves of a stick bug.”

“You said that when I looked at you, you felt beautiful.”

A nod.

“I don’t know to…how to navigate this, Jo. I don’t want to rush you or push you, or make you feel pressured or objectified or…any of that. But I alsodowant you to feel beautiful and…and desired.” I touch her chin. “Because you are, Jolene.”

“I am what?”

“Desired.”

“Oh.”

“All of you.” I let my hands skate down over her arms. I put my hands on her hips, at her waist. Just hold her like that. Let her feel my touch somewhere other than hands and face. “Not just your eyes or your face or your soul. All of you.”

She turns her face up to mine. Her hands rest on my shoulders. “It might take some repeating of this conversation for me to really start feeling it as the truth. Just FYI.”

“That’s fine. I’ll repeat it as much as possible.”