Try asking again.

Amber looks relaxed enough now that you might be able to get to the bottom of whatever’s wrong with her. You decide to try keeping it light, so you grin at her and ask, “So, what do you think of me?” You think she might respond by giving you a little encouragement and comfort, which you would certainly appreciate. She might also take it as a chance to tease you a bit, since that’s the way your relationship has usually worked. What she actually does, however, surprises you.

“You’re great,” Amber says, leaning forward. “I can talk to you about anything—well,” she says, suddenly blushing, “almost anything—and I can trust you. You take me seriously, and you don’t say anything unless you have something worthwhile to say. You’re fun to be with, and you know what’s important. You’ve always treated me with love and respect, and you took better care of my mom than she deserved—you were better to her than she was to you. You gave her the best five years of her life, and she’s not likely to do as well again; I don’t understand why she doesn't appreciate you.” Something about the intensity of Amber's speech suggests she’s trying to draw a contrast here. She pauses, blushes again, looks away from you to stare at the window, then continues.

“You asked if I had a boyfriend. Not only do I not have a boyfriend, I never have.” Your eyes widen in surprise, but Amber doesn’t notice. “I’ve had short-term relationships, but no one steady. I know Mom’s unhappy about that. She thinks I'm too much of a prude, if you can believe it, that I’m not ‘putting out’ enough, or something. She even told me once . . . no, I don’t want to talk about that. She’s sex-obsessed, which is why—” Amber pauses, turns to look you straight in the eye, and continues in a deliberate voice “—she’s been cheating on you for a while.” You sit up in shock, and Amber nods. “But then, what do you expect from a woman who tried to put me on the pill at 14?”

At that, you do a double-take, and Amber nods again, wearily. “I refused. I don’t like the idea of **** and hormones. I was still a virgin when I started college, just in reaction to my mother. I did finally get an IUD put in, but I didn’t tell her.” She shakes her head and mutters, “She’s a fucking idiot,” which seems like an apt way to put it (in several respects). After a long pause, she continues, She pauses a moment and says, “The truth is, everyone I’ve dated, they’re all still boys, and I want a real man. There’s a man I've liked for a long time now—in fact, I think I love him—but he doesn’t even know I’m interested; and I’ve just never found anyone else I like even half as much.” She hesitates, as if she’s not sure how much more she wants to say, or how she wants to say it.

Your heart is racing, though you’re not sure why. You lean forward and ask, “What do you mean?”

“It’s been hard, because the man I really want has been dating someone else. In fact, it’s more awkward than that, because up until this week”—Amber takes a deep breath, gathers her courage, and raises her eyes to look straight into yours—“he’s been dating my mother.”

Your mouth drops at this, because it had never occurred to you that Amber might feel this way about you. But then, you’ve been committed to April (and you thought she was committed to you!), so you haven’t been letting yourself think about other women in that way—and surely if anyone was off-limits, it was her daughter! Besides, when you first met Amber, she was still a half-grown colt. You've seen her grow into a stunningly sexy young woman, but at some level, you haven’t really thought of her as a woman.

But now, you’re unattached, and no one’s off-limits. Though you’ve never let yourself think about fucking Amber, you have grown to love her dearly over the years. Now here she is, a beautiful and desirable woman, staring at you with undeniable lust in her eyes—mixed, oddly and appealingly, with vulnerability, because she isn’t sure how you’ll respond. As badly as she wants you, you don’t know if she could have worked herself up to say anything without the beer to give her courage.

The combination of vulnerability and lust in her expression makes you want to fuck her to the limits of her senses, but also to make love to her, gently and tenderly, so she feels loved and cherished and protected. Fortunately, it sounds like you have the whole weekend . . .