Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
The summer internship in California did Olivia good. She was able to stop living under her mom and dad’s thumb. Too bad she didn’t find a nice guy to rid her of her virginity. Hence her delving into this school year and making the library her second home. Olivia is wound so tight, that I’m afraid if she doesn’t get laid soon, she’s going to self-combust. And I’d really hate to see that happen.
Which brings us back to her impromptu date last night.
“So, any chance you let Tanner deflower you?” I ask.
Heat suffuses her cheeks and I grin. She’s so easily embarrassed. I probably shouldn’t delight in tormenting her but it’s kind of fun.
And that’s what friends are for, right?
Probably not, but oh well. Olivia is stuck with me. We’re lifers, baby.
She glances around to see if anyone overheard me say the word deflower before grumbling, “I hate you. You know that, right?”
I lean back in my chair, balancing precariously on two legs. “Please. You love me.”
She shakes her head. “Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore.”
“I think we both know that I could have been way more vulgar. For instance, I could have said something like…did he pop your cherry. Or did you play a game of hide the sausage. Or how about—”
“Oh my God!” She buries her face in her hands and mumbles, “Stop. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, okay? Just stop talking.”
I chuckle. “You make it so easy, that it’s almost no fun to tease you.”
“I wasn’t lying before.” Lifting her face from her hands, she glares. “I really do hate you.”
With a smile curving my lips, I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table. My chin is tucked on my fists. “So, what did you two do if not each other?”
She huffs out a breath. “You seriously have a one-track mind.”
“In regard to your virginity, yes.”
Sometimes I think I’m more invested in making this happen then she is. Which is weird. But the sad truth is that if I didn’t take the initiative, Olivia wouldn’t bother.
If it weren’t for me, Olivia wouldn’t have experienced half the things she did at BU. Like the Halloween party last year where I made her dress up like a sexy devil. She couldn’t bend over without flashing her panties. Or when I secured us fake ID’s freshman year, so we could hit the bars and dance clubs. Or when we rushed Alpha Sigma Tau sophomore year, got accepted, and then decided we were happier being a sorority of two. Or when I signed us up for intermural kickball.
Yeah, those were some good times.
And do you know who Olivia has to thank for all those enriching college experiences?
Yup, that’s right.
Me.
Come hell or highwater, Olivia is losing her virginity by the end of senior year. There is no way I can send her out into the world at age twenty-two with her hymen still intact.
That cannot happen.
Breaking eye contact, Olivia glances at the marine biology book splayed open in front of her. “Well, we went to the diner off Maine Street, the one that serves breakfast all day. I ordered hash browns with cheese and banana stuffed French—”
I roll my eyes.
Olivia loves breakfast so much that she would happily eat it for every meal. Which, I suppose she could now that she lives on her own, but thankfully doesn’t.
What I’ve already discerned is that if the highpoint of this story is the banana stuffed French toast and hash browns, she didn’t come anywhere close to punching her V-card.
How disappointing is that?
When I give an exaggerated yawn, she frowns.
With my hand in the air, I twirl my wrist in a circle. “Can you please get to the good part?”
Looking offended, she confirms my suspicions. “Um, breakfast was the good part.”
“There wasn’t any kissing or making out?” When she just stares, I perk up. “How about an accidental boob graze? Did that at least happen?”
This line of questioning is apparently considered offensive because she pokers up in her chair as if someone just shoved a two by four up her ass.
“Of course not! This is the first time we’ve been out.” She folds her hands in front of her and says in a clipped tone, “When he kissed me goodnight outside my apartment, I told him I wasn’t that kind of girl and needed to take a physical relationship slow.”
I narrow my eyes, trying to decide if she’s screwing with me. “Please tell me you didn’t say that.”
“Of course, I did.”
“So…was the plan to never see him again? Because saying something like that will do the trick.”
“Then I don’t see him again.” She shrugs. “I’m not going to be pushed into something I’m not ready for.”
I drop my chin to my chest and huff out a sigh. “You are aware that you’re twenty-two years old, right?”