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“Maybe I was just busy.”
“We both know you were avoiding me.”
Alix’s chin tipped up haughtily. “We both know I had good reason to.”
“Do we?” He pressed the towel to his head a little harder, because the ache was pulsing in his temples and he was pretty sure it was either from the conversation he was currently having or from blood loss. Too bad applying a little pressure couldn’t fix the former.
“Of course! I asked you for one thing only. One thing. You couldn’t even do it for me. I wanted you to take me to prom. I had to go alone because you refused. I looked stupid and pathetic. Everyone probably made fun of me behind my back all night. I was the girl who got rejected the day before and didn’t have a date. Do you know how humiliating that is? You could have done me a solid and just taken me.”
“What about after?”
“I don’t want to talk about after. You could have turned me down and still taken me to prom.”
“Because that wouldn’t have been at all awkward.”
“Okay, so it was a mistake to ask you to go out with me after.”
“You asked me to take you in my car, to find a field, and get rid of your v-card because it was pesky and you felt like you shouldn’t be a virgin at eighteen, but you couldn’t be bothered to find someone you trusted enough to get rid of it with.”
Alix’s hands left her hips and she crossed her arms over her chest. Unfortunately, the movement pushed up the swell of her breasts. They weren’t huge, but they were round little globes and he could make out the outline of her nipple through the soaked tank.
Apparently, he hadn’t lost that much blood, because low and behold, he could still spring a boner. Thankfully, Alix’s eyes stayed locked on his face. That was just her. She used those unnerving eyes to stare people down. She wasn’t afraid of a challenge or a good sparring match. She’d refused to be on the debate team because she didn’t want everyone to think she was a complete keener, but she should have been. She would have made a very intimidating lawyer if she’d pursued law, not business.
“Stop it. This is why I wanted to avoid you, because you like to press salt into a moment of weakness. I was frantic. I thought that maybe, because you were well known as a man whore, that you’d help me out and be done with it. Instead, you made me feel like the dweeb of the century. It’s not nice to reject your best friend’s little sister on the basis that she’s too ugly for you.”
“That wasn’t the basis,” he said, the words coming out with more than a tinge of disbelief. Was that honestly what she thought?
She shook her head. “Right. We’ll have to agree to disagree. Chance explained to me after, so that you didn’t have to, that I wasn’t your type. I believe his exact words were, ‘he’s never going to dick you because you’re too ugly. And you’re still not blonde.’ He spelled it out for me loud and clear.”
“What he should have said was-”
Alix threw up a hand. “Just save it. I don’t need you to rehash the past. Here are my conditions. One, the making out is platonic. Clothes only. I want to see what the entire world is buzzing about when it comes to you. Why women faint all over at the prospect of a single closed mouth kiss to the forehead. Two, this is basically just an experiment only. I feel like I’m the only person in the entire said female population who hasn’t had a good kiss. You’re a good kisser. I’m twenty-two. I think I deserve just one by now. Three, no one finds out.”
Ross stared at Alix in awe. He’d never known a woman who knew her own mind better than Alix Bear. He’d also never seen a woman who let herself be pushed around by those she was most vulnerable to. She didn’t stand up for herself when her parents wanted her to take business, not fashion or design or art like she wanted. She rarely stood up to Chance when he was being a shithead. And she took what happened the night before her prom as a rejection of a lifetime. She chose to believe it was because she wasn’t pretty enough. What a load of shit. He made a mental note to kill Chance as soon as he saw the bastard again. Blood loss or not, he could still kick the guy’s ass any day of the week. At the moment, the urge to cut off his balls and glue them to his forehead with a sign that said, I’m a ball-less bastard, was pretty fucking strong.
