The Last Virgin in Texas

by Jennifer Woodhull

  Jared takes a bite of his shrimp risotto. “This is too. Here, try a bite.”

  He holds his fork up, his hand cupped under it to catch anything that might fall. I lean forward and close my lips around the fork and the dish is even better than mine. I lick my lips as I swallow, and Jared strokes my cheek with his thumb and winks at me as he returns his fork to his own plate for another bite.

  What the heck was that?

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was flirting with me. This is Jared, though. I’ve known him forever and there has never been anything between us, even before I dated his best friend.

  “Hey, remember that time we were coming back from Lydia Lucas’ birthday party and we got pulled over?”

  I press my fingers to my lips in a vain attempt to stifle a laugh.

  “Oh, my God! I haven’t thought about that in forever.” I take a sip of my wine to keep from choking on my food as I laugh.

  “And you’d had something like one and a half wine coolers, but you were completely shit-faced. The cop shined his flashlight in your face in the backseat and you said…”

  “I would never drink Mr. officer. I’m a good girl.”

  “Yes! Then you hacked up all over the back of Mrs. Kane’s car.”

  We both laugh for a long minute.

  “We’ve had some good times.” He reaches across the table and briefly squeezes my hand. “I’m glad we got to catch up.”

  Okay, so I’m not sure how this happened, but I remember eating a lot of pasta and a giant piece of tiramisu and now I’m sitting on the biggest sofa I ever saw in Jared’s living room, my bare feet tucked up under me. Also there was wine. Maybe I brought it with me because there’s another glass of it in my hand right now.

  “Okay, here we go.” Jared walks over to the sofa to join me, a laptop in one hand, his glass of wine, which he sits on the coffee table, is in the other.

  He rests the laptop on the edge of the coffee table and adjusts the screen so I can see it. “There you go. That is a photo of me with Tom Hanks. I told you I was telling the truth. You owe me five bucks.” He laughs.

  “That’s so cool. Your life is so cool. You know all the cool people.”

  I grin and look up at him, noticing for what feels like the first time that he really is handsome in his own way. Not handsome like Tucker. His hair is lighter, his skin more tanned. He looks like an all-American surfer boy, which was never really my type. Tonight, though, there’s something about him that makes me understand exactly how girls could fall for him.

  Jared chuckles as he rests his arm on the sofa behind me. “I know a lot of people, yeah. Acting has been good to me.”

  “And you never wish you had, I don’t know, a regular life?”

  He shakes his head and takes another sip of his wine. “No, way. I’m doin’ exactly what I was born to do. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It can be hard work. I have to work hard to stay in good shape.” He pats his chiseled torso with his palm.

  “Plus…” I bounce the pad of my index finger off the tip of my nose.

  Jared’s brows pinch as his mouth becomes a hard line. “Well, thanks for brining that up. Shit, Gretchen.”

  He looks hurt and I immediately wish I could take it back.

  “I’m sorry!”

  “Yeah, whatever.” He rests his elbows on his knees and slumps his head forward. “Bad enough they made me do that. Said it would help me get more work, which it did, but I was happy with myself just the way I was. I never would’ve done that on my own.”

  I reach over and rest my palm on his back. “I mean it. I’m sorry. I was a jerk. I think you’re very handsome.”

  He gives me a sideways glance. “You do?”

  “Sure. You were always good-lookin’.”

  “You never seemed to notice when we were kids, though. I always liked you, Gretchen.” He squeezes my hand, and it feels like something is shifting in the air between us. “Sometimes I wish I’d had the nerve to tell you that.”

  My gaze travels from where our hands are linked to his eyes. They’re darker than they usually are, and there’s heat there I didn’t see before.

  “Look, I know you don’t have feelings for me…you probably never will, and that’s okay. I care about you, though. We been friends a long time.” He sits up and leans closer. “If you wanted to be with someone you know…someone you know you can trust, I’d be honored to be that someone.”

  The wine must be catching up with me because I suddenly feel a little unsteady and this whole conversation is surreal. It’s hot in here, and when I shift and the backs of my fingers graze against his arm, and I feel his muscular thigh against mine, I’ve got a buzzing sensation all across my skin.

  I look up and he fixes his gaze on me.

  “What are you sayin’, Jared? Are you…sayin’…you want to spend the night with me?”

  “You said before that you want to be with someone you trust for your first time. I could make it special for you. I’d be good to you, Gretchen. I’d take good care of you.”

  My heart is pounding, and my head is swimming. Jared leans closer—so close I can taste the wine on his breath.

  My heart aches because it’s not him I want to be kissing. When he grazes my jaw with the tips of his fingers, my body responds to his touch. It’s the first time we’ve ever been like this, but he still feels familiar.

  He’s looking at me like he wants me.

  Just me.

  It feels good, this tingling all over.

  I part my lips, but before I can say anything, our lips touch.

  Twenty-Six

  Barbara Banner gestures with an elegant, perfectly manicured hand to the field in front of us as we sit in the football stands at Shiner High.

  “So, this is where you played high school football?”

  “That’s right. That twenty-yard line right down there, that’s where I caught an interception and ran it in for a touchdown on the last play of our last game my senior year and we went to state finals.”

  “So you were quite the athlete, then. Were you the typical jock in school?”

  I chuckle, leaning back to rest my arm against the bench behind me. “I wouldn’t say I was a typical jock. I had all kinds of friends. Science club, band geeks, cheerleaders…I was always one of those people who tries to see the positive in everybody.”

  “Sounds like you’re a pretty good friend to have, Tucker.” Barbara chuckles animatedly, her auburn hair gleaming under the lights of the cameras.

  “I hope I am. I’ve got some good friends myself, so I feel pretty lucky.”

  “Like Jared Berringer?”

  “Yeah, Jared’s a good friend. I don’t know what I’d do without him. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t even be an actor.” I tell her the story of how Jared and I got to Hollywood.

  After stops at the Dairy Gem and Piggly Wiggly, we wrap up the last day of shooting around town, and I’m glad to be finished with the whole thing.

  Marissa and I head back to my parents’ place for a late dinner. They know she’s a good friend and the relationship stuff isn’t real.

  “So, Marissa. What do you think of our little ol’ town?” Mama asks as she doles out a serving of chicken and dressing on Marissa’s plate that I know she’ll never finish.

  “Oh, it’s great. I grew up in a small town in Northern California, myself. It’s about the same size as Shiner, really.” She smiles, taking a sip of sweet tea and somehow manages not to wince when she realizes how many calories are in it.

  “Well, we’re just so glad you got to come visit. We watch your show. We’re just so proud of Tucker.” Mama looks at me. “So, honey, I haven’t seen Gretchen lately. How’s that going?”

  I shake my head. “She’s still mad at me.”

  “I offered to go talk to her myself and explain everything.” Marissa looks apologetically at Mama.

  “I appreciate that, Marissa, but I need to smooth things over a little first. I’m afraid if you try to t
alk to her, she’ll just freak out.” I take a sip from my glass of tea to soothe my tightening throat. “I haven’t seen her in a couple of days.”

  “I saw her,” Dad says nonchalantly.

  Mama whips her head in his direction. “Where d'you see her?”

  “Yesterday afternoon in town. I was leaving the hardware store and I cut through behind the diner. Her and Jared were walkin’ over to her place.”

  For a split second, my vision blurs and everything sounds muffled as I try to process what he just said.

  “She was with Jared?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  Marissa glances at me from the side.

  “They must’ve run into each other.” My heart is pounding so loud, I’m sure everyone can hear it. All I can think about is getting my hands on Jared and finding out what the fuck he was doing with Gretchen.

  As soon as dinner is over, I head over to Jared’s place to drop of Marissa. With him having so much room at his house, she’s been staying in his guest house near the pool.

  I walk her to the front door of the cottage and say goodnight.

  “Take it easy on him, Tuck. You don’t know the circumstances yet. Just give him a chance to explain. Maybe he was talking to her on your behalf.” Marissa reaches up and hugs me and I give her a squeeze with one arm.

  “For his sake, I hope that’s all it was. Goodnight, Marissa.”

  I walk over to the house and enter through the French doors from the patio. Jared isn’t anywhere to be found. I walk through the living room, kitchen and den, and don’t find him.

  With the knot still sitting hard in my stomach, I walk down the hall to the master bedroom and it’s dark. When I flip on the light, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  No Jared, but more importantly, no sign of Gretchen.

  I reach over to turn off the light, and when I do, I see something that makes my gut clench.

  There, on the bedside table, I see a pair of black-framed sunglasses that I recognize.

  Gretchen has definitely been here.

  In Jared’s house.

  In his bedroom.

  Twenty-Seven

  “You sure you’re okay, Tucker? You don’t look so good.” My favorite bartender has a rag tossed over his shoulder as he stands in front of me, palms outstretched as they rest on the edge of the bar.

  “Hmpf. I dunno, Damon. I just don’t know.” I tip back the measly droplets that are left in my glass and point it, empty, towards him.

  The bastard takes my empty glass and sets it in the sink. I cock up a brow and give him the evil eye.

  “Nah, man. I’m gonna have to call you a cab now.” He waves his hand in the air to get the bouncer’s attention and holds up his pinky and thumb like a phone.

  “I don’t need a fuckin’ cab. I need a goddamn whiskey.”

  “No you don’t.” He leans forward and rests his forearms on the bar. “Look, I’ve known you the whole time you’ve been out here. What, four years? Five?”

  I nod.

  “I’ve never seen you this torn up before. You need to find something to fix whatever is ailing ya, but you aren’t gonna find it in the bottom of a bottle of Jack.” He raises a brow, a hint of a smile on his face.

  “You damn Midwesterners. You’re always so fuckin’ happy. It’s annoying as shit.”

  “I know! Isn’t it?” He smiles a big toothy grin. “But you like me, anyway.”

  “I do.” I pull out my wallet and throw a couple of Grants down on the bar. I point at him as I hop of my barstool. “I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

  “You been in here every night for three weeks straight. My bank account’s gonna hate me for saying this, but do me a favor? Don’t come back tomorrow. Go straighten yourself out. You’re one of the good ones, Tuck. Don’t throw it away. You’re better than that.”

  I crawl into the back of the cab and the driver asks me for my address. The cab they called is from a company that’s known in the business for discretion. They’re used to dealing with high profile clients, so the guy doesn’t get overly annoyed when I don’t answer right away.

  “Mr. Kane? Sir? You okay?”

  I have no idea who this guy is. Maybe he’s driven me before, but more likely, he’s just another example of people who don’t know anything about me but talk to me as if they do.

  I look at him in the rearview mirror. He looks worried. Not like he’s afraid I’ll barf all over his car, but like he’s genuinely worried about me. When I catch my own reflection in the mirror, I see why.

  My cheeks are sunken. My tan has transformed into a yellow pallor. My eyes are bloodshot and fuck if I even know where I got this wrinkled piece of shit shirt I’m wearing. I’m not even sure it’s mine.

  I wipe both palms up my face and drag them back down again.

  “Malibu,” I finally answer. “Sixteen twenty-five Ocean Breeze.”

  “Yes, sir.” He puts it in drive, and heads for the coast.

  I knock on the front door, but it’s taking her forever to answer, so I make myself comfortable on the bricks of the top step to wait. A few minutes later I hear the door open and slowly lean back to rest my head on the top stoop behind me. A gorgeous redhead looks down at me wearing one of those kimono robes that does nothing to hide her spectacular figure.

  She looks over her shoulder and calls into the house behind her. “Babe? It’s your beard!” She crosses her arms and shakes her head as she looks down at me. “He’s shit-faced.”

  I hear bare feet pad furiously toward the open door. A moment later, my make-believe girlfriend appears in a t-shirt and panties.

  “Shit! Tucker!” She shakes her head back and forth angrily.

  “Hi, honey. I’m home,” I say with a grin. That makes me laugh. Hard. Marissa doesn’t find it funny.

  “You dumbass!” She looks up at Willa. “Babe, help me get him inside?”

  Willa nods and a moment later I’m flanked by two of the hottest women in Hollywood as they drag my staggering drunk ass over to a giant white, leather sectional in the living room that looks out over a ten-million-dollar view.

  “Coffee?” Willa asks in Marissa’s direction, and she nods.

  Marissa kneels down in front of me and pulls off one shoe, then the other, setting them neatly on the floor at the far end of the sofa. She sits at the edge of the coffee table facing me.

  “What are you doing, Tucker? This isn’t like you.” She reaches out and puts her fingertips gingerly on my knee. “You left Texas without saying a word, and I’ve hardly heard from you since I got back. I’m worried about you.”

  I run my hand through my hair and look up to see Willa standing beside me, holding out a cup of coffee. I take it.

  “Thanks, Willa.” I take a sip and she sits in the armchair to my right.

  I stare at the coffee as it lazily swirls in the cup for a long moment. I don’t look up.

  “I told her.”

  From my peripheral vision, I see Marissa look over at Willa and back to me.

  Marissa cocks her head to the side. “Told…who? What? Gretchen?”

  “Yeah. Gretchen. I told her I loved her. That same night after the photo shoot.”

  “Oh, shit. You never said. How’d she take it? What did she say?”

  “Nothing. She didn’t say a damn thing. Just like the last time.”

  “Okay,” Marissa moves to the sofa next to me and loops her arm through mine. “But that night you came over to Jared’s…”

  I wince, shutting my eyes as my jaw clenches so tight I think my teeth might crack.

  Marissa must notice my tension. “Whoa. What’s with you two, then?”

  I barely get it out through my still-clenched teeth.

  “He fucked her, Marissa. He fucked my girl.”

  “What?” Willa leans forward, folding her arms across her chest, her attention rapt.

  “He fucked Gretchen. I went to check on them, after Dad said he’d seen them together. I went inside Jared’s place.”
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  “You found them together?” Marissa asks, a look of horror on her face.

  I shake my head, slowly, from side to side. “She had these sunglasses when we went to the beach. I noticed how cute they were on her.” I think of how we were at my house at the beach that day, and it makes my chest feel tight. I should’ve stayed there—kept her there with me.

  “Anyway, I was looking all over the house for Jared, and went in his room. I saw the glasses—Gretchen’s sunglasses—on the table next to the bed.” I run my fingers through my hair. “I can’t stop thinking about it. What am I gonna do?”

  Marissa puts her arm around my shoulders and rests her head against my arm. “I’m so sorry, Tucker. You know what you have to do, though. Talk to Jared. You’ve been friends with him forever. You have to get past this, and if you can’t you at least deserve an explanation from him face-to-face.”

  I picture the bastard’s face and my fists clench.

  “That’s a good idea.” I stand and start to walk toward the door, but I’m not too steady, and both women flank me, each grabbing an arm.

  “Whoa there, tiger. Not tonight. You need sleep. And then coffee.” Marissa pats my shoulder.

  “And definitely a shower.” Willa adds, smiling up at me sweetly. “You kind of smell, sweetie.”

  “Okay.” I nod, digging in my pocket for my phone.

  “No need for that,” Marissa puts her hand on my phone, making me lower it. “We’ll set you up in the guest room.”

  I slather exfoliating scrub across my arms and chest, then down my torso and legs as the steam from the shower dances around me. The mint in the scrub wakes up my senses, and I can feel the toxins, a result of the indulgences of the past few weeks, leeching from my body.

  I step out and rub a thick, oversized cotton towel over my hair, then dry off and wrap it around my waist. Back in Marissa’s guest room, I find my clothes, clean and folded, on the bedroom chair. After I’m dressed, I step out of the bedroom and find Marissa and Willa sitting at a table in the dining room that’s spread with bran muffins, bacon, an egg white frittata and fruit. Willa pours me a cup of coffee and I join them.