Page 32 of Blue Moon

“Sol, what’s wrong? Do you not want to sleep with me? You don’t have to.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s not that.”

This girl was driving me crazy.

“Okay, so what is it? You look frozen. Or afraid. Did someone hurt you?” I pushed that thought out of my head because I couldn’t even fathom some motherfucker abusing her. Even so, rage boiled inside of me. “Did some guy force himself on you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It’s just that . . .” She trailed off and looked up toward the ceiling, then around the room. Anywhere, everywhere, but at me.

I cupped her face gently, forcing her to look at me. “Spill it, babe.”

She exhaled so loudly I thought she was going to do the Hick maneuver.

Wait . . . I’d seen this hesitation before in other women. Usually, those ones were cheating on their partners. Once I found out, I’d kick them out of my room. I couldn’t stand cheaters. Maybe Sol had a man. Hell, I’d be shocked if she didn’t.

Jealously, a feeling that I had rarely experienced consumed me. Picturing another man fucking her made me want to punch something. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “No, Sawyer! Why would you think that? If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t be here with you like this right now.” Part of me was relieved to hear she was unattached, but mostly I just wanted to know what was bothering her.

“Then what is it, babe? Just tell me.”

She closed her eyes, then opened them slowly. “I’m . . . a virgin. I still want to have sex with you tonight, but I just thought you should know that I may not be that good. So, you have to go slow with me.”

What the fuck . . .

A virgin.

My jaw literally dropped open. The thought had never occurred to me. And here I was about to sleep with her and never see her again.

What kind of monster was I?

I couldn’t even formulate my thoughts. I had so many questions. But I just sat there like an idiot shaking my head in disbelief.

Finally, I said, “You’re a virgin?”

Brilliant, Sawyer. She just told you that.

“Yup.”

“How? I mean, you’re beautiful. You’re twenty-two. You’ve never had a serious boyfriend?” I knew her age from the bio on her resume. I had that thing fucking memorized. Just like I had the image of her beautiful heart-shaped face burned in my mind.

“I had one, but he was gay and eventually ended up coming out. And I mean, I’ve dated around but never too seriously. In high school, I was focused on getting into a good school and winning pageants. And after my boyfriend and I broke up at Stanford, between classes, charity work, growing my following, and pageant duties, I never had time to date. I guess I spend more time online than with people in real life.”

This was precisely why I hated social media—all the connections were fake. What Sol and I had this weekend, our affection toward each other was all real.

“This isn’t a religious thing?”

“No. I mean, I’m Catholic, but that’s not the reason.” She paused. “I didn’t want to wait until I was married or anything like that. But I thought it would be nice to wait until I was in love and in a stable relationship.”

Fuck! I needed a drink.

What the fuck was she doing with me in this hotel room?

I took her hand in mine. “Are you in love with me?” She burst into laughter, and I felt a little deflated, but at least I didn’t have to worry she’d be hurt when I left tomorrow for Seattle.