Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
How could she go three years without sleeping with anyone after that?
How could she not, asshole? You think you're the one who dictates how she moves on?
"We made out a lot," she says. "He was religious."
"You didn't tell me."
Her voice gets stern. "I wasn't obligated to tell you."
I swallow hard.
"Can we please not make it weird?" she asks. "If it's too much for you, I respect that. But if not… I've spent all semester in therapy. I don't want to focus on the ugly parts. I want to have fun for once."
And that's why she needs my help.
With fun.
Val is the serious one, the studious one.
I'm the one who brings the fun.
"What exactly do you want?" I ask.
"It doesn't matter. It doesn't even need to be good. As long as he's not the last person who touched me," she says.
I'm a person. I can touch you. And I already know everything. You don't have to explain your limits. Your needs. Your desires.
Well, maybe that last one.
Maybe a few dozen dirty texts.
A night.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she says.
"And you're doing this with or without me?"
"I don't know if I can do it without you. I need the push." She looks me in the eye. "Please, Dare. I need your help."
How the hell can I say no to that?
Chapter Nine
VAL
Between family dinners, late nights with my sister, unpacking and repacking, I barely have time to talk to Dare.
It's not as if I'm avoiding the topic of my Spanish tryst. More that my body refuses to fall in line. Every time I steer my thoughts to Archie, they skew to Dare.
Which is weird. Dare is hot, sure, but he's not my type, and I'm not his. He sleeps with girls like him, girls who prefer casual arrangements.
My body is just confused. Because it's been so long since I've wanted anyone's hands on my skin. And Dare is the only guy I trust.
The signals are all crossed. Desire and trust are all mixed.
Okay, maybe I only said I wanted Archie so Dare would go along with this. He was clearly not going to help me screw a stranger. Maybe I only said I wanted Archie so Dare wouldn't volunteer as my teacher. Or so I wouldn't ask him to tutor me on this particular subject.
Burt Archie is a good pick. He's handsome. And I trust him. And he's perfect for this—tame.
Which is why I make it through my entire time home in California, all the way to the airport, past security, to the chairs at the gate, before I attempt to woo my roomie.
Archie: What time do you get in?
I shift in my seat—one of those odd black airport chairs. I sip my overpriced fizzy water. I check my surroundings.
Dare is at the duty-free shops—he's still excited by international air travel.
I have privacy. I can flirt. I can start this on my own. Even if it's a little awkward to pick up the conversation after three days of silence.
Or maybe that's good. Maybe it shows I'm in demand.
Val: I'll forward the flight details. How are my cacti doing?
Archie: I watered once.
Val: Only two drops each?
Archie: Of course.
Val: Do anything fun while I was away?
Archie: If struggling to follow my coworkers' Spanish is fun.
Val: Dare tried to learn too.
Archie: You really call him Dare?
Val: That's his nickname.
Archie: He's our age, isn't he?
Val: And?
Archie: Isn't that a little silly?
The question is normal—Dare is a ridiculous nickname for an adult man—but it still sends protective energy through my body. Dare has a great sense of humor, especially about himself. That's why he still teases yeah, you gotta dare a girl to kiss me.
He is a fun guy. And he's a caring, thoughtful friend. He can be both. He can be a smoking hot, tattooed bad boy who also makes me feel safe and comfortable and at home in my body—
And so not going there.
Friendship with my, uh, best friend.
Flirting with my roomie.
I'm not mixing all that up.
Val: He's a little silly. But he has a serious side, too. He's a good guy. A good friend.
Archie: Only a friend?
Is that a sign of interest?
Footsteps draw my attention. Dare.
He moves through a spread-out family in matching mouse hoodies, past a couple sharing headphones, and reaches me. Best of all, he's holding two large iced lattes. "The best chain at the airport."
Caffeine. Yes. Now. "You spoil me."
"Oh, you don't want this?" He brings one of the drinks close to his chest. "Happy to take it off your hands."
"Dare!"
"I wouldn't want to burden you—"
I reach for the takeout cup. "Gimme."
He laughs with pure I love teasing you glee as he sits next to me and hands over the drink.
"Thanks." I take greedy sips. It's not the world's best coffee, but I need the energy. My body never really adjusted to Pacific time, but it's not on Central European Time either.