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“Maybe it isn’tplentyof guys,” she mumbles, causing me to furrow my brows.
Now, that’s interesting.
“Okay, so a ballpark estimate?” I urge, unable to guess what number she could throw out at me.
Her eyes finally lock on mine, seeming to be thinking through her next words. I can’t tell if she’s going to retreat from this topic of conversation, which is understandable, or if she’ll keep moving forward.
Is she embarrassed because of the number of men she’s been with?
“There’s nothing to be ashamed about if it’s a lot,” I add, hoping it will help put her at ease.
But it doesn’t seem to; her mouth opens and shuts as she tries to get the words out.
Trying to help her out, I say, “You also don’t have to“
But I’m cut off as she blurts out one single number.
“Zero,” she says, her eyes moving back away from me as she pushes around what’s left on her plate.
I stare at her, dumbfounded.
“Come again?” I ask, feeling like I misheard her.
“I know, I know. I’m a twenty-three-year-old virgin. I get it. You can make fun of me now,” she says, her voice laced with annoyance.
My mouth dries up as I take in what she’s said. I had not been expecting that.
“No, no. There’s nothing wrong with that. But you’ve done other stuff, right?”
I should stop pressing and change the topic. But I’m entranced.
She’s avirgin.
“I mean, I’ve kissed and stuff . . .”
She trails off, obviously embarrassed by her admission.
But I need her to know there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.
“That’s cool. I mean, you’re only twenty-three. That’s still pretty young,” I say, leaning in closer, wanting her to hear what it is I have to say. “You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.”
She mumbles a quiet thanks, but’s it’s obvious she’s still embarrassed, and I finally force myself to change the subject.
“So,” I begin, hoping to get this meal back on track, “where did you go to school?”
That seems to loosen her up some, though I can tell she’s still reserved about our previous conversation. But she really shouldn’t be embarrassed with me.
Because in all honesty, that’s probably the hottest thing I’ve heard in my entire life.
CHAPTER6
MARIA
“Despite you not being at the top of the list of people I’d wanted to spend an evening with,” I begin, earning a scoff from Tyler as we walk to my apartment building, “I had a good time.”
“I’m flattered,” he tells me as we near the entrance.
Outside of my building, the two of us stand there, as if unsure of what to do. I know I should just say goodbye and leave, but I’m not ready for the night to end.
