Page 51 of Tangled Up In You
“They weren’t, but I didn’t grow up watching all kinds of movies and TV shows. We only had a handful of video tapes and an old VCR. Over years, even once a week, it adds up.”
“It also doesn’t seem like the kind of movie they’d approve of, either.” He laughed. “It’s, like, horny teenagers, gangs, premarital sex, and drag races.”
Ren hoped her expression didn’t betray exactly how much she liked hearing him say the word sex. She cleared her throat. “Gloria probably felt safe because we had the edited-for-TV version.”
“Oh, God. With commercials and everything?”
She nodded. “I probably asked for Captain Crunch seven hundred times after I first watched it.”
Fitz made a sad womp-womp sound. “I’m guessing Steve and Gloria didn’t give in.”
Ren laughed. “You guess correctly. Anyway, imagine how confused I was when our old tape finally gave out, and I borrowed a copy from the library and heard Rizzo ask Danny if he was going to ‘flog’ his ‘log.’” Across from her, Fitz choked on a sip of water. “I didn’t even know what that meant, until one day it hit me.” She looked around and then leaned in, whispering, “It means masturbation.”
He appeared to lose the fight with the water, lifting his fist to his mouth as he coughed harder. Ren quickly grabbed a handful of napkins from a dispenser and shoved them at him. Her delight at having broken his stoic façade was overshadowed by guilt over the brief coughing fit. “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said, wiping his mouth. “You just surprised me. Didn’t expect you to say that word aloud.”
The waitress came to take their order, and Fitz’s words rolled around in her head until a streak of irritated rebellion flashed through her. The moment the waitress left, Ren leaned in again. “For the record, I’m not that innocent, even if I haven’t done certain things.”
One dark eyebrow lifted. “You haven’t done that?”
Heat exploded across her cheeks and down her neck. His eyes tracked her flush. “What I mean is that I grew up on a farm. With animals,” she said meaningfully. “You know what animals do, I imagine.” Ren pressed a hand to the side of her mouth, stage whispering, “I know what sex is, Fitz.”
With a smile in his eyes, Fitz leaned in, pressing a hand to the side of his mouth, too. “Hopefully you aren’t basing your entire sexual education on the breeding of barn animals, Ren.”
“Of course not,” she said primly. “In fact, there is a lot of valuable sex education to be found in romantic literature.”
“I’m sure there is.”
She grinned at him. “But you probably know a lot more about romance than I do. You could give me some real-life examples from your past.”
His smile faded, and he straightened. “Nice try, Sunshine.”
Ren glared down at her menu.
Throughout dinner, Ren noticed him doing it time and time again: distracting her from asking questions by pointing to something interesting nearby, asking her about her past, making jokes.
After dinner, they bought ice cream and walked around the downtown area. It was beautiful, with trees and a mix of newer buildings and older architecture. They passed an art museum and block after block after block of shopping and restaurants. Fitz led her into a busy park and pointed to a fountain ahead with four life-size bronze horses and an empty bench nearby.
“Those horses represent what were thought of as the four mightiest rivers,” Ren told him as they sat.
A soft laugh came out on his exhale. “Of course you know all about this.”
“The Mississippi, the Volga, the Seine, and the Rhine.”
Fitz squinted at the fountain. “That’s actually pretty cool.”
“Here’s the really cool part,” she said. “It was originally commissioned for a private estate in France, but it was sold as salvage after a huge fire and moved all the way here. Imagine seeing something like that when you look out your window at breakfast.”
“Rich people are so weird,” he agreed.
She bumped his shoulder. “Okay, rich kid.”
“Right.” He frowned, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his thighs. “Well, be sure to check the fountain off your list when we get back to the hotel.”
She mentally logged this reaction. Back at Corona, Fitz seemed to proudly play the part of the son of the school’s most generous benefactor. Away from school, Fitz lived simply, lacked bravado, and hated being referred to as wealthy. “Thank you,” she said. “I might not have remembered. You’re sweet, Fitz.”
He huffed a soft laugh through his nose, looking down at the ground. “It’s not sweet, Ren, it’s just a reminder.”