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I shrugged, hoping I was playing it cool despite teetering on inebriation. “Maybe I want to see what the fuss is all about.”
His voice went down an octave, into a smoldering tone that was pure sex and sin. “Kenz, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“One, you’re like my little sister.”
Ouch, that one hurt. “Then forget it. I’m a gonna go to bed.” Jesus, I sounded like an Italian pizza maker. Unfortunately, I turned too fast in my heels, nearly face planting for a third time this evening. Thank God he caught me around my waist.
“Two, you’re drunk and might not know what you’re asking.”
“I’m not that drunk.” The expression on his face was unfamiliar. Was he nervous?
“I worry about what it might mean to you.”
I crinkled my nose. “Do you think I’ve never kissed a boy before and will go drawing hearts and rainbows because of you?” In fact, I’d dated a lot. And by a lot I meant a large proportion of first dates, a respectable number of second dates, and only a few third dates. Considering I had a five-date rule before I’d sleep with a guy, there you had the very reason I was still a virgin. However I’d certainly kissed my fair share.
He sighed. “No, but I don’t want it to be weird after.”
“You’re scared.”
The look in his eyes confirmed the direct hit. “You’re drunk and don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not that drunk, I’m just—oh, Lord—” I bolted for the bathroom barely in time to upchuck the entire contents of my stomach in the toilet. A moment later, I felt his hands pull my hair back and then a cold washcloth was placed on my forehead once my stomach was empty.
“You okay?”
The tears threatened, and I cursed myself. The last thing I needed to do was to ugly cry in front of him after puking. “I’m humil-a-ted.” Hmm, that didn’t sound right. “Humy-lated.” It figures I’d humiliate myself further by not being able to enunciate the very word I was feeling.
“Don’t be. I promise you won’t remember this come tomorrow.”
“Wanna bet?”
And that was the last coherent thing I remembered saying.
