“Oh yeah,” he said with a chortle. “Big mistake. That’s when I learned I wasn’t exciting enough for her. Our sex life was boring. And then she said our entire relationship was boring. What do I even do with that?”
In some ways, his admission didn’t surprise Corrie. Not everyone could be Indiana Jones, even if they were technically named after him.
“Yikes.”
“Yikes is right. Can you even imagine? Wait . . . no. You’re the opposite of boring.”
No, Corrie had never been described as boring in the bedroom. She’d also never been described as boring in a relationship. But, then again, she hadn’t really been in a relationship since her early twenties.
“So you broke up?”
He turned over on his side, now facing her. His face weary and tired.
“Yeah. I mean, I guess. Honestly, we never even said the words. She literally said, ‘Our sex life is boring. Our relationship is boring. And you’re boring.’ And after standing there dumbfounded, I responded, ‘Well, okay then.’ And we stared at each other for a few more minutes until she finally said she was going to go. And that was it. She took a bag that I thought was for the night, and she literally never came back.”
“Ouch.”
“Is it weird that it didn’t hurt?”
“I mean, no. If the sex was as bad as it sounds toward the end, you were probably emotionally disconnected from her already.”
“Yeah . . . maybe.”
“How’s it been since then?”
“What? Things with Addison? I haven’t spoken to her even once since that day.”
Interesting. But not what she meant.
“No, I mean how’s sex been? Did the emperor get his groove back?” she joked with a shimmy, trying to bring a little levity to the situation.
But he didn’t laugh. He blinked a few times. “I haven’t had sex since then.”
No. Fucking. Way.
Literally. No fucking way.
Corrie about choked.
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “With everything going on with my parents and some changes at work, I haven’t had time for dating.”
“There’s always time for sex. Takes five minutes if you’re efficient,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I thought women didn’t like men who couldn’t last more than five minutes?”
“It serves its purpose. Sometimes all you need or want is a five-minute fuck.”
“Wow. You really are comfortable with your sexuality, aren’t you.” He didn’t say it like it was a question. It was definitely more of a statement. And a correct statement at that.
“Aren’t you?”
“Not anymore.”
“Maybe you need to try Tinder. It’s great for boosting your confidence.”
“You use Tinder?” His eyebrow raised.
She nodded. “Sometimes. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“Why? Because it’s slutty?” She hated that stereotype. Why couldn’t women enjoy sex with random hookups as much as men did?
“No. Because I . . . I guess I thought you would be in a relationship.”
Corrie laughed. “What? Me? Oh no no no. I don’t think so,” she said shaking her head.
“Like, never?”
“Not in a long time. As you’ve acknowledged, our lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to having stable relationships.”
“I mean, it can. It just didn’t work for me and Addison. Lots of archaeologists and professors are married or in relationships.”
“Yeah, well, not this one. Think about it, Ford. Would I even be here right now if I were in a relationship? You gave me less than a week’s notice to fly out. What would I say? ‘Sorry, honey. Gotta go, but see you maybe in a few weeks or months’？ And then, if you add kids to the mix, it only gets more complicated. I don’t see how that’s feasible. Not with all the things I want to do.”
“Things like what?”
“Like find Chimalli.”
“Okay, what if we find him here? What if, in a few weeks, we’re packing up with a crate of his bones and all these years of research and study finally culminate with the biggest archaeological discovery of our time? Then what?”
Corrie had never thought about life after Chimalli. Maybe because she’d never thought she’d actually have the opportunity to find him. What did she want to do with herself after that, assuming there would be an after?
“Then . . . I don’t know. But at least I have the freedom to explore the options.”
“I have to say, Corrie. You never cease to amaze me.”
“You’re amazed because I don’t want to be in a relationship and I use Tinder?” she asked, raising her brow and pursing her lips.
“No, I’m amazed because when I think I’ve started to figure you out, there’s something new I learn about you.”
Her insides tingled at the sound of him calling her amazing and at the look on his face. The genuine surprise. His sexy smile. She was amazed at herself, too—amazed at her incredible self-control in not reaching over and kissing those delicious-looking lips of his.
“Well, I guarantee I’m not as interesting as people think I am. I get home from work, watch TV, go to the grocery store, take walks, mow my lawn . . .” She tried to play it off.
“You mow your own lawn?”
“Yes, I mow my own lawn. Jeez, Ford. Don’t you?”
“No . . . but I live in a condo.” He stopped to laugh. “Seriously . . . could the two of us be more opposite?”
Corrie smiled. “Probably.”
“Thanks for listening to me. I haven’t actually told anyone what really happened with Addison, so it was nice to finally get it off my chest. Thanks for not making me feel like an ill-equipped doofus.”
“Hey, I have no idea what kind of equipment you’re packing under there and whether you know how to use it,” she said motioning toward his crotch, “but anytime.”
“And there’s that Corrie Mejía humor again,” he said with a chuckle.
“Would you rather I be more serious? Because I can do that, too.”
“No, I’m good with this amount of seriousness.”
“Well, then, I have to ask . . . how big was it? The dildo. I need to know what size I need. For self-defense purposes, that is.”
Ford laughed and buried his face into his hands for a second. “Oh God. Corrie . . . it was big.”
“Like how big, though? Like this big?” she said, putting her hands up.
Ford sat up and extended her hands. “Try more like this.”
Corrie’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Mm-hmm. And like this big around . . .” He brought his hands together in a circle.
“No.”
“Yes. So, you know, a total mold of the equipment I’m packing down here,” he said with a slyness in his eye.
A Corrito Burrito laugh escaped, and she had to cover her mouth so as not to wake Jon and Memo. It was still raining, but the rain was no match for Corrito. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re really hurting my manhood here, Corrie,” he said, jokingly.