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There’s only one way to quench these hungry flames: make her say no.

“Untouched,” I spit at last, trying my hardest to say it in a way that will hurt her so she stays away, where I can’t do more lasting damage. “A virgin. And I won’t ruin you that way.”

38

RAE

HR DISCIPLINARY ACTION FORM

Employee:Lukas Lazarev

Violation:Inappropriate Workplace Language (See Transcript)

Transcript Sample:"I'd [REDACT] your [REDACTED] until you [REDACT] on my [REDACTED] [...]"

Untouched.

A virgin.

He says it like it’s a diagnosis. Some hideous, disfiguring, terminal condition he’s too noble to exacerbate. Like my inexperience is this precious, fragile thing that needs protecting from the big, bad wolf.

On one hand, I’m mortified. There’s a very real part of me that wants to crawl into the nearest hole and die of embarrassment because this man has somehow divined the most humiliating truth about me.

On the other hand, I’m alsofurious.

Who the hell isheto judge my choices? Or better yet, mylackof choices.

I didn’tchooseto be a virgin at twenty-five. It’s not like I’ve been saving myself for marriage or holding out for some fairy-tale prince on a white horse. Life just kept beating me over the head no matter how much I begged for it to stop.

My parents died. Gideon spiraled. I dropped out of college to work three jobs and keep a roof over our heads while my little brother tried to destroy himself one needle at a time.

So no, asshole, dating wasn’t exactly a priority when I was choosing between groceries and electricity bills. Romance took a backseat to pure fuckingsurvival. And by the time things stabilized—if you can even call this precarious tightrope walk “stable”—I was so far behind the curve that the whole thing felt impossible.

How do you explain to a guy on a second date that you’ve never doneanyof this before? You don’t, that’s how.

I didn’t stay “untouched” because I wanted to remain some pristine, gift-wrapped present for the right man. I stayed untouched because the world kept taking and taking and taking, and there was nothing left of me to give.

And now,he’sgoing to use that against me? Him, of all people? The King Taker himself?

“What if Iwantto be ruined?”

The question rips out of me and sizzles in the air between us, even more embarrassing out loud than it was in my head.

But going by Lukas’s reaction, you’d thinkhewas the one being shamed.

I watch his broad back go still. “Then you’ll have to find someone else to do it.”

His voice is flat and final. The death knell of whatever this was—whatever I thought it could be.

Then, just so there can be no mistaking it, he walks away.

I stand in the doorway, rooted to the spot, watching him disappear up the stairs. The fallen jar has rolled to a stop against the baseboard and the bag of pastries lies crumpled at my feet. The afternoon sun pours through the windows and gilds everything in warm, honeyed light, so cheerful, as if my heart and my pride haven’t both just been scooped out with a melon baller.

Find someone else.

Like I could. Like there’s anyone else who makes me feel the way he does.

“Lukas!”