It's something she'd learned ways to avoid doing, in that past and best-forgotten relationship of hers. How to twist coyly away from David's insistent, pressing hand on her head as they made out on his couch or in his car; that quick mental scramble for other things she could suggest or parts of herself she could reveal to divert his attention to more endurable channels. She doesn't want to do that here, and knows she'll never have to, not with Nick and all his infinite, adoring patience.

That's why when he so readily picks up on the idea, using it as another gentle nudge at her boundaries, Rosie doesn't even feel a flicker of the distaste she'd once felt so strongly. "You should, Nick," she says, crying out a little as his spit-slick fingers pinch her nipple. "So I know how to do it right, so I know how you l-like it. Just...when you do, just please go slowly with it. I know you will, I just...I need to s-say that, I'm sorry."