Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167204 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 557(@300wpm)
Chapter Three
Brynn
I was having a lonely day when I met Kyle Roarke.
College is great. I love the classes and the opportunities to learn from brilliant minds, the lens slid in front of my eyes that shows me the world in ways I haven’t seen it before. And I’m enjoying this year more than freshman year since Stacie and I got our own place off-campus this semester.
But I get a little lonely heading into the holidays and living on my own.
I get a little lonely sometimes just because.
When Kyle started talking to me in line, I felt excited. Maybe not by him—I didn’t know him—but at least by the idea of him.
And it was a Wednesday, in a café.
I’m blaming Taylor Swift for this.
___
“What could you buy with your body count?”
“Nothing.”
He grinned. “Come on. Pretend we’re at the dollar store. Go wild.”
I chuckled, averting my gaze as I felt a rush of warmth in my cheeks. It felt strange to tell a stranger I was a virgin, so I made light of it. “I haven’t killed anyone yet,” I said solemnly.
“Yet, she says.” He had the cutest smirk as he leaned in and bumped my shoulder with his. “I’m serious. How many people have you been with? You don’t have to be embarrassed. I won’t judge you.”
“I’m not embarrassed, I just… I really don’t have a ‘body count.’ The number is zero.”
“You’re telling me you look like this and you’re a virgin.”
I shrugged, uncomfortable but trying not to be. “Yeah.”
He stared at me like I’d just confessed to being from Jupiter. “How?”
I shrugged again. “It’s not that hard.”
“Wow.” He caught me by surprise when he added, “Well, I think it’s sweet.”
That word. Sweet. I liked it. “Yeah?”
He nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Sexy even,” he added, his tone lightly conspiratorial. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only virgin on campus. Definitely the first I’ve encountered.” The customer in front of us got their drinks and moved away, so the cashier caught his gaze, then mine, searching for the next customer.
“Oh, you can go first,” I told him. “I’m not in any hurry.”
“You kidding me?” He grabbed the sleeve of my coat and hauled me with him toward the register. “I’m buying you a drink, little virgin.”
My face warmed even more at his teasing, and I hoped the cashier hadn’t overheard. “You don’t have to do that,” I said a bit shyly.
“I want to.” He glanced back at me over his shoulder, his blue eyes sparkling. “I also want your number.” He passed me his iPhone, then turned his attention to the cashier as he drew out his credit card. “Put it in my phone.”
My jaw dropped at his playful audacity, but my stomach jumped with something that felt like a blend of eagerness and excitement. It was a presumptive way to ask for my number, but… I don’t know.
I kind of liked it.
___
Now, looking back at it, I guess he wasn’t that charming.
Maybe I just wanted him to be.
He’s not making me feel terribly special right now, but the way he looked down at me that day with his sandy blonde hair swept back and his blue eyes twinkling… it felt nice.
And sure, maybe his jokes were kind of lame, but he’s handsome and well-off, and in my experience, handsome, well-off guys tend not to be the funniest. They don’t have to be.
I don’t know why I thought he would be as focused on me in a room full of people as he was when it felt like just us standing in line at that coffee shop, but he isn’t. I try to ignore it since it’s not like we’re actually dating, but I notice his gaze wandering every time a pretty girl in a skimpy costume walks by.
I’m not ready to agree with Stacie that coming here tonight was a mistake, but I have definitely lost enthusiasm.
My enthusiasm spikes briefly when he says we should ditch all these people and go find a quiet spot so we can actually hear each other talk, but after my first and last relationship, I’m determined not to ignore red flags this time. Mitch used to make “joking” comments to me about other girls being hot just to “rile me up.”
It didn’t rile me up, it just made me feel bad about myself.
And it wasn’t funny, it was just mean.
Especially because, while he was happy to dole out compliments to strangers who couldn’t hear them just for the purpose of hurting me, I could have laid in front of his car and refused to move until he told me I was pretty, and he still wouldn’t have done it.
When I came to college last year, I didn’t even want to date anybody else. My “high school sweetheart” had been my only attempt to open myself up to someone, and he’d done so much damage, I never wanted to take that risk again. Didn’t want anyone to have such close access, to be able to hurt me so much and make me question my sanity when I still wanted to stay.