The Virgin & The Bad-Boy Billionaire(6)

“It sure beats that purple cotton dress I set out.”



“You gotta burn that thing! I can’t believe you were going to go in that drab dishrag.”



“Ouch, that’s my nicest dress!”



“Then burn ‘em all.” She laughs.



“Alright, no need to hate on my clothes.” I smile at her. “We can’t all dress like rock stars.”



“Then why get out of bed in the morning?” Brianna teases, “Anyway, we need to work on this hair. I’m not letting you go on your first date since… wait, I can’t think of any dates you’ve gone on!”



“I’ve gone on dates before. Remember Bernie?”



“Oh my god, that so doesn’t count! Your prom date? That was high school!” She sounds like I’ve broken a small part of her brain with this revelation.



“It does so count. And besides, I don’t have time for dating. I’m busy with school and work.”



“It doesn’t count unless you got laid.”



I don’t want to talk about this right now, I know she thinks I’m an old-fashioned prude for maintaining my virginity. I’ve heard it all before. In her world, there’s no heavier albatross to bear than not having guys fall all over themselves to fall all over her. “Let’s just get my hair under control, please?”



Luckily, she drops it and goes back to scrunching her nose up at my frizzy mess of hair. “Yeah, ok. I’m gonna go get the apple cider vinegar and Castor oil. We’ll wash it in my kitchen sink. Grab a chair and pull it over.”



I don’t even want to know what’s in store for me. I just drag one of her plastic Ikea stools over and plop down.



“You know, it’s funny how different we are,” she calls from the bathroom. “You’re like some kind of nun or saint or something. I just couldn’t live like that.”



So much for avoiding the conversation. “I’m not a nun, I just want to make sure it’s with the right guy at the right time.”



“I couldn’t do it, you don’t know what you’re missing.” She walks up beside me with a bunch of bottles in her arms. “Lean back over the sink.” She starts massaging the apple cider vinegar into my scalp as she goes on, “Like, the last time I went out I picked up not one, but two guys and brought them home to fuck.”



“At the same time?” Even for Brianna that seems racy.



“Yep, mmmm, it was incredible. Two sets of hands running over me, two tongues tasting me, two cocks…”



“Brianna!” She laughs at my shock. The truth is, she isn’t wrong, I am kind of a prude. Well, that’s not true. It’s not like I don’t think about sex, I definitely do. It’s just that I’m not one to just treat it as casually as a handshake. I envy Brianna, being so free and comfortable with who she is.



“Alright, alright! I won’t go there, but if you ever decide to start having fun, all I’ll say is you can’t go wrong with two men at the same time.”



“I’ll keep that in mind.”





Three hours later, Brianna is finally finished. She’s just pulling a hair straightener through the last few strands. I go take a look in the mirror, letting out a low whistle. “Wow, it looks amazing. Almost makes all that time worth it,” I tease her. It’s so shiny and perfectly straight that I have a hard time prying my eyes off my reflection.



“Seriously, how do you grow up not knowing how to style your hair?”



“I dunno, I just had other priorities so I mostly just twisted it up. Anyway, thank you.”



“We aren’t done yet. You still need some make-up. Get your ass back in the chair.”



I sigh but do as I’m told. How can anyone do this every single day? It’s exhausting.



After another hour, I’m finally made up to her satisfaction. After painting, lining, tweezing and god knows what else, I spring free from the chair to take another look in her large mirror.



“Wow.”



I search the beautiful face blinking back at me for some sign of recognition. Make-up is another one of those things I’ve never had time for. But seeing is believing, and I believe I might start.



Brianna is looking at me like I’m her newborn child. I notice the lime green numbers on her microwave warning me that I need to get moving. “Is that time right?” I can feel the panic rising in my chest as I point over her shoulder to the 3:35 beaming at us from the kitchen.



“Yeah, pretty close anyway.”



“I’ve gotta go! His driver is meeting me at my place at 5.”