Somebody muttered an “Amen.”
“So, letter writer,” she continued, “the truth is that your boyfriend doesn’t really matter here. You matter. And what you need to ask yourself is ‘Do I want to go my whole life without oral sex?’ Because that’s what we’re talking about if this relationship continues. Since oral sex is the way the vast majority of women orgasm, I’m going to guess the answer to that question is no.”
Gabe noticed her cheeks going pink again.
“So if you don’t want to go your whole life without it, what’s the point of going a year without it? Or five years? Maybe he’s a really great guy, but he can be a great guy with someone he’s sexually compatible with. Believe it or not, there are women out there who don’t want that. They think it’s gross or it makes them uncomfortable. I once even met a woman whose nerves were so sensitive that she found it too intense and didn’t like it. Let him date that woman. Or better yet, he can hook up with one of those girls who hates blow jobs and they can live resentfully together for the rest of their lives.”
Veronica smiled. “But you, letter writer, you can look around at this very large gathering of men who love to go down—” she swept a hand over the crowd, and several guys jumped to their feet with triumphant fists in the air “—and you can decide to choose another path. A path that involves cunnilingus, and lots of it. My hunch is that’s the path for you.”
Gabe thought of the Robert Frost poem about two roads diverging in a wood and shook his head in wonder. Probably not what Frost had had in mind, but who really knew?
Her next question was from a woman who’d received hateful messages online telling her she was fat and slutty and who’d then tracked down the IP address to her sister’s computer.
Gabe half listened to Veronica’s answer, but he was more interested in the way her voice changed from wry humor to serious concern. Was she only acting or did she really feel that deeply for these people? He couldn’t tell, but the whole room went quiet as she talked about betrayal and pain.
“I can’t begin to guess at her reasons. I’m sure she tells herself she has them, but she is consciously hurting you. She’s trying to damage you on the deepest level. Now, people do that all the time. There are people online who spend every day swooping down on strangers just to hurt them and they find that entertaining. But this is your sister. You can’t just ignore that. You’re going to have to talk to her, because you’re both adults and part of being an adult is doing difficult things.
“Tell her you need it to stop. And if you’re open to the answer, ask her why. Find out what’s really going on, because I guarantee that it has nothing to do with your body and what you do with it. It’s all about her. Maybe she’s having issues with your parents. Maybe they’re using your success to shame her. Or maybe she’s just depressed and angry and lashing out. Ask her why. And if you don’t like her answer, you have every right to cut her out of your life, but be honest with your family about why you’ve done it, or she will make you into the bad guy.”
The applause was more subdued this time, but Veronica smiled. “Don’t worry. The next question is about boobs.”
When she started giving advice about living with a small chest, Gabe felt less guilty about checking her breasts out. She gestured to them as she was talking, after all. People were laughing so hard it was difficult to hear everything she said about bra shopping and dress styles, but he had a perfect view of her breasts the whole time. The neckline of her dress swooped only low enough to hint at cleavage, but she made clear that she didn’t have much to show, anyway.
“Personally, I wouldn’t bother much with water bras or miracle padding. What if you attract a guy who’s really, really into C-cups and then your magic show ends with whipping off your bra and making them disappear? You can yell out ‘Ta-da!’ but I promise you won’t get any applause.”
Benton was laughing so hard that Gabe suspected it was a magic show the bartender had seen several times.
Half an hour and four more questions later, the show was over. Once the room started to clear out a little, Gabe took the opportunity to grab a free space at the bar and order another beer.
“We’re heading over to the saloon,” Benton said when Gabe returned to the table. “You coming?”
“I just bought a beer.”
“Finish it and come on.”
“I’d better not. I’ve got work tomorrow, and my shift doesn’t start at 5:00 p.m., unlike yours.”
“All right, man.” Benton slapped his shoulder. “See you this weekend.”
Gabe relaxed into his chair. If Sunday turned out to be anything like today, he might die of happiness. It was all so...simple.
But when he glanced up, it wasn’t simple anymore.
Veronica stood in the opening of the back hall, leaning forward just slightly to look around the room. He realized then that she was part of the reason he’d decided to stay, even if he hadn’t admitted it. Shit.
After a few seconds of peering toward the bar, she retreated and leaned against the wall, then closed her eyes and drained her drink.
Gabe watched her, confused by yet another sudden personality shift. She clearly didn’t want to come out, which was odd considering she’d just spent so much time in front of these people.
She pushed off the wall again and her gaze roamed the room. Her eyes skipped over him, then returned and widened. He smiled and gave her a wave. She waved back but didn’t move. Telling himself he was an idiot even as he did it, Gabe pointed at the empty chair next to him. She hadn’t been looking for him, and he shouldn’t want to spend time with her, anyway.
But Veronica smiled and seemed to wilt a little, the stiffness going out of her shoulders, and he was glad he’d offered. Relief seemed to glow from her face as she stepped out of the hallway and made a beeline for him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as she set dow
n her now-empty glass and took a seat.
“Some friends wanted to see your show.”