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“The ‘scared of anything sexual’ comment. You completely blew past it,” I point out.
That familiar determined expression of hers appears, and she lifts her chin, trying to look tough. “You don’t scare me.”
“I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about sex.” I pause. “Does it scare you?”
She’s quiet for a moment, allowing me the opportunity to blatantly stare at her. She’s so damn beautiful. Despite us being in this so-called fake relationship, I’m starting to have a very real attraction toward her.
I need to be real with myself—I’ve always been attracted to her. From the moment I first laid eyes on the birthday girl at her party, I thought she was beautiful. When I spoke to her? Sassy. Determined, but with that hint of innocence about her that I’m drawn to. She’s sweet. And most women I’ve been with in the past, there was nothing sweet about them.
My life has left me jaded, and no one could blame me for feeling that way. It’s just facts. And Scarlett is about the least jaded, most pure person I’ve ever been around. I like that about her. That she’s not cynical and doesn’t look at everything like an attack.
Just because I have thoughts about corrupting her—and I do, especially lately—that doesn’t mean it’s all I notice when it comes to Scarlett. There’s so much more to her. I might annoy her and make her mad, and I think I’m the only person who does that.
Makes her feel... other things.
“I don’t think we should have that particular discussion right now,” she says rather primly, her soft voice interrupting my thoughts.
I glance around the room before I return my attention to her. “No one is listening to us. They might be looking at us, but they can’t hear our conversation. So tell me, Scar.”
“Tell you what?” Her eyes are wide and unblinking.
“Are you scared of sex?”
She leans back from the table as if she needs the distance. “Are you trying to dig into my sexual history?”
I shrug, deciding to be completely honest with her. “Yeah. I am.”
She stares at me for a moment, that mind of hers processing my answer. “It’s really none of your business.”
“I’m curious.” I shrug. “And I want to know more about you. It’ll help bring us closer, don’t you think?”
Okay. I’m full of horseshit. I just want to know if she’s actually done the deed or not. Or if she’s done anything.
My guess is no.
“Ask me my favorite color and movie. Or what I like to eat. You need to lead up to the sex life questions.” She laughs nervously.
“So you do have a sex life.”
Scarlett remains quiet.
“Right?” I prod.
A sigh leaves her. “This is embarrassing.”
“We’re two adults here.”
“I’m barely an adult.”
“Talking about your sex life while we’re in a relationship shouldn’t be too daunting.”
“It is when what we’re doing isn’t...” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Real.”
She’s right. What we’re doing isn’t supposed to be real, but why does it feel like that?
This is a date. I don’t know what else to call it. And here’s what’s funny—I haven’t gone on a lot of dates in my life. I didn’t need to. I went from being with Jess to getting with a plethora of women. There was no dating going on. Just hookups.
One after another.
