“What? No!”
“Pleeease?” she pouted.
“No.” I couldn’t help but smile, though.
“Come on, it’s just one little word. We’ll call it your vocabulary lesson for the day,” she coaxed.
“No, I am not saying that,” I said, laughing. “And I think that’s two words, actually, but I’d have to consult a dictionary to make sure.”
“Fine. What do you call it, then?” she asked, rolling over onto her stomach, crossing her ankles in the air.
“I don’t call it anything.”
“So, imagine that you meet a friend and tell him that you got laid. Finish this sentence.” She lowered her voice to sound like a man. “Hey, bro, I scored with this chick last night and she totally gave me a…”
She looked at me expectantly, and I laughed again because she sounded just like Matt.
“What?” she asked.
“You sound just like my st—my brother,” I said. “But I would never say something like that.”
“Why not?”
“Well, that would be completely ungentlemanly of me, and since no one has ever done that to me besides you…you see where I’m going with this?”
“You haven’t had a lot of sex,” she concluded.
Understatement.
“No,” I admitted sheepishly.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “Are you just really choosy with your partners?” She seemed genuinely puzzled by my lack of experience.
“Not really. I-I guess a lot of women just didn’t choose me.”
“Hmm,” she said, cocking her head to the side.
Now she thinks I’m a complete loser.
“Well, screw them! Their loss is my incredible gain.”
“I’m hardly a prize,” I said.
“Please,” she scoffed, reaching for her beer. “You’re good-looking, fun to be around, and great in the sack.”
I didn’t know which of her compliments shocked me the most: good-looking, fun, or great in bed. None of them fit with my perception of myself, but the comments thrilled me and I hoped that she was being truthful.
There was a knock on the door and she jumped up. I noticed that we’d been talking for a while and, surprisingly, I hadn’t felt nervous at all. The conversation had flowed very easily between us and this was probably the most shocking thing—besides sleeping with her—that I could add to my “Things I like about Ms. Wilde” list.
I like talking to her.
“Thank God, I’m fucking starving!” she said, walking toward the door.
“Let me pay,” I offered.
“I already did it online,” she said with a smile. “But you can pay me back later if you’d like.”
She gave me one of her winks and I realized that she was probably talking about the two of us engaging in more sexual activity. My mouth went dry and I gawked at her backside as she walked over to the door. It was entirely possible that she was naked underneath the thin satin robe.
Naked. Warm. Soft.
Twitch. Twitch. Twitch.
Chapter 9
Ms. Wilde opened the door, but it wasn’t the pizza delivery. I heard the unmistakable sound of girls’ voices.
“Hey! We were just driving by—”
“Move, Sophia. I need the bathroom!”
A moment later, Ms. Wilde was pushed aside as her two friends barged into the apartment, uninvited.
“Shit,” I whispered.
Hang on, did I just say “shit”?
That’s not the thing you should be focusing on right now, moron.
My eyes darted to Ms. Wilde, still holding the door open and wearing an irritated expression. Thankfully, her aggravation seemed to be directed at her two friends, who were now frozen in place, staring at me as though I were an exciting display at a museum.
“Holy shit!” the girl named Sophia exclaimed, turning to Ms. Wilde. “Isn’t this your lit professor?”
Not after this gets out. I’ll be her former lit professor who begs on the street with a sign that says “Will teach contemporary literature for food.” Oh, God, I’m going to starve.
Ms. Wilde sighed heavily and closed the door. “Yeah, this is Stephen.” She walked over to where I was sitting in the armchair and faced me. “Stephen, you remember Sophia and Megan, right?”
I nodded.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered so quietly that I was sure only I could hear it.
She turned to her friends again and sat down on the armrest of the chair, right beside me. I experienced an overwhelming urge to wrap my arm around her as we faced the judgment of her two friends, but refrained, as it would only make things more incriminating.
“I really have to pee,” Megan announced, dashing toward the bathroom. “Don’t you dare say anything before I get back!”