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Summary
Ryland wilts in the makeshift nest and blows out a long sigh. “Look, it's not that I'm ideologically against it or anything, Rock. It's just that—nothing has ever.” He abruptly pauses, wrinkling his nose to reconfigure his thought pattern while he stares at the ceiling of the ship and makes a vague hand gesture through the air. His blood capillaries are still dilated but not as obscenely as before. “Nobody has ever…y’know? Gosh, why is it so hard to talk about this right now?”
Simultaneous surprise and arousal hit Rocky like twin bolts of frenetic lightning. He would almost break out into joyous song if that didn’t feel slightly inappropriate in light of Grace’s burning bashfulness. “Oh, Rocky understand now,” he gently cuts in. “Grace is a virgin.”