“How old are you, Mr. Gilmore?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Perhaps if you were with more age-appropriate women, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

“What? No. Shit. Is that what you’re thinking? No. She’s not young. She’s in her late...” He realized he shouldn’t be talking about Destiny in specifics. “She’s not a teenager at all. Not for several years. I’m not into young girls.”

He stood and walked to the window, then turned back. “Look, it’s not what you think. I didn’t know, okay? She talked about not being interested in sex, and I thought she’d been with a bunch of jerks who never gave her an orgasm. But it turns out she was a virgin. And I hadn’t been with anyone in months. Like almost a year, so it was quick, and there was this barrier, and I tried to stop because I kind of guessed what it was but it was too late and then it was over and...”

He swallowed. “Can you put it back?”

Dr. Galloway’s lips were moving for sure, but they didn’t look disapproving anymore. If anything he would say she was trying not to laugh.

“I see,” she said slowly. “I’m pleased to know you’re not preying on young women.”

“I’m not. Ever. That’s awful.”

“Yes, it is. So about your friend. That barrier you felt is the hymen, and while it can be sewn back, I don’t recommend it. From what you said, she hadn’t been avoiding sex for religious reasons. There’s no disapproving family to punish her?”

“No.”

“Then let it be. Did you run out on her? Leave her crying?”

Kipling flinched. “You really hate men, don’t you?”

“Not at all. I’m simply trying to discover the kind of man you are. From what I can see so far, you’re a good one. So here’s my advice. Talk to her. Find out why you. Why that night. As for the orgasm she didn’t have, fix it. I assume you know how. If you don’t, I have some brochures.”

He held up both hands. “I know how. No brochures. Please.”

Dr. Galloway smiled. “It will be fine. Although I do recommend that next time you learn a little more about your partner before having sex with her. Did you—”

Her phone buzzed, capturing her attention. “Excuse me. I have to take this.”

“Sure. No problem. Thanks for your time.”

He ducked out while he could and got out of the office without lingering. Once back on the sidewalk, he wished it was a whole lot later in the day because he needed a drink. As that wasn’t possible, he walked the few blocks to Destiny’s office.

She was at her computer, typing intently. For a second, he allowed himself the pleasure of looking at her. Long, wavy dark red hair tumbled over her shoulders. She had on a T-shirt and jeans, with hiking boots. Not sexy, not glamorous, but just looking at her was enough to get him thinking.

Not that they were going to do that anytime soon, he reminded himself. There were a few things that needed to be cleared up first.

She glanced up and saw him.

“Hi.”

“Hi, yourself. How are you feeling?” he asked.

She frowned, as if confused. “Fine. Why? Do I look like I’m getting sick?”

“No. I wasn’t talking about that. The other night—”

She leaned back in her chair and groaned. “Not that again. Kipling, we talked about it. You have to let it go.”

He sat in the visitor’s chair and leaned toward her. “I don’t, and I won’t. Destiny, losing your virginity is a big deal. I don’t know why you chose that moment or me, but that part is done. What I’m concerned about now is making it right.”

Emotions flashed through her green eyes. “It can’t be undone, and I wouldn’t want to undo it. I like that I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“Right. It’s less complicated when you meet your calm Mr. Uptight.”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” she grumbled. “Like you think I’m an idiot.”

“I think you’re underestimating the power of an intimate, sexual connection.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. It’s powerful and exciting and makes life worth living.” The words were at odds with her bored tone. “I’ve heard it all before, and I don’t care.”

“That’s because you didn’t have an orgasm.”

“I’m not interested. It was fine, Kipling. Really. Let it go.”

Something that wasn’t going to happen, he thought firmly. “I wasn’t prepared, and I messed up,” he told her. “I owe you. If, after that happens, you still believe that sex is dangerous and bad, I won’t mention it again. I swear.”

She sighed heavily. “Why is this so important to you? I don’t need fixing.”

“No, you need teaching.” He thought for a second, then decided to try reaching her from a different angle. “You were amazing on stage that night. Your singing, the vocals. You have real passion when you perform.”

Instead of reacting with pride, she slumped lower in her seat. “I know. It was horrible.”

“No, it was brilliant and powerful. How come you don’t want to do that every day?”

“It’s exhausting and requires me to be vulnerable. There’s rawness in singing like that.”

And no way to protect herself, he thought. Based on the little he knew about her past, he understood that she’d grown up feeling unsafe. As if her world could shift or crumble at any moment.