“Your first time should be with someone who will revere you,” I murmur, popping in some detergent and then pressing start. “Someone who will make your toes curl and your eyes roll so far back in your head that you’ll see white.” I’m still facing the sink. I can’t face her while I say this, but she needs to hear it. “Someone who will make you wonder what the fuck you’ve been missing out on. Not some guy at a party. Not in some random bedroom in a house you’ve never been to. Somewhere meaningful—with someone who will treat you like a seven-course meal.”
