The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles

by Meghan Quinn

  I made a mental note to talk to Derk about Rosie. Her little scene last night in the adult toy store was a little concerning. Actually, it was a lot concerning. She’d been so hot and cold, so damn emotional and horny, I honestly hadn’t known what to do. At one point, I felt like protecting my balls, because the look in her eyes made me believe she was about to deep-throat them in the middle of the dildo and elephant condom section. I needed some advice on how to calm down my overly emotional girlfriend. Rosie had always been quirky and fun to tease, but in all the time I’d known her, I’d never considered her mercurial.

  “Are you going to have those drafts on my desk by tomorrow morning?” Eric asked, peeking his head over my cube walls.

  I perked up and tried not to show the fatigue taking over me. “Yup. I sent mock-ups to the design team this morning; should have them ready for tomorrow. Just working on my proposal now.”

  “Good,” Eric said. “First round of edits will start tomorrow, but I like what you have so far.”

  I nodded at Tasha’s cube. “How’s she doing?”

  Eric stepped into my cube and placed his hands in his pockets as he leaned forward to speak quietly. “The girl knows her condoms, that’s for sure. She has good ideas, Henry.”

  Fuck, that was not what I wanted to hear. I knew her knowledge of condoms was well founded, but to be able to put together a persuasive and eye-catching campaign? That surprised me.

  “Really? I’m still shocked she’s working here. In college, she showed no ounce of aptitude for advertising. I’m honestly surprised she’s gotten this far in her career.”

  “I know how; they’re stacked on her chest.”

  Eric was probably the most professional man I knew, so to hear him make a comment about a woman’s breasts in the workplace was shocking. Clearly he was annoyed over the entire situation.

  Insecurity washed over me as I asked, “Think I have a shot?”

  The man was a good boss, because instead of making fun of me, he gripped my shoulder and looked me dead in the eyes. “I wouldn’t put my stamp of approval on you if I didn’t think you had a shot. You’re a smart man, Henry, and a hard worker. I see great things in your future; we just have to make sure we get you there. Let’s kill it with these drafts tomorrow, okay?”

  He patted me on the shoulder and then took off.

  And then there were two.

  From a few cubes down, I could see the desk light streaming from Tasha’s space. I desperately wanted to see what she was working on, but I wasn’t about to ask her; that would show weakness, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. Instead, I turned to my proposal and read through it again, looking for any mistakes and any places I needed to embellish.

  Except for the occasional tap of computer keys, the hum of the air conditioner was the only sound filling the silent office space. The cleaning crew had already been through the building—apparently they came earlier than I expected—and most lights were turned off. It was eerie being in a skyscraper at night.

  “What are you working on?” Tasha asked from over my shoulder.

  I hadn’t heard her walking in my direction, so I nearly shit my pants from being startled. Usually the click-clack of her heels against the hard floor warned me of her approach. I looked down to see her barefoot; that explained things.

  “You into toes?” Tasha asked, wiggling her feet.

  “What? No,” I replied, leaning back in my chair, scooting as far away from her as possible.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, making her cleavage more prominent, and leaned against the entrance of my cube. “We had some good times back in the day, Henry.”

  Those days barely register now that I’m with Rosie. Tasha had obviously never realized I was just biding my time with her.

  “It’s in the past,” I answered honestly.

  What’s past was past, plus I didn’t trust her. Why didn’t I close out of my proposal before she came over? Oh yeah, she sneak-attacked me. I sat up in my chair, hoping my shoulder span covered my computer screen.

  “So, you and Rosie, huh?” She nodded at the picture of Rosie on my desk. I glanced at it quickly, a lightness filling my heart before I turned back around to Tasha.

  “Yup, me and Rosie.” I didn’t want to get into it. All I wanted was for Tasha to leave me the hell alone so I could finish the last paragraphs on my proposal and then get home to Rosie.

  “Do you ever think about what we used to have?”

  “Nope.” I shook my head. Not liking the way she was looking over my shoulder, I turned around and exited out of my proposal. “I’m actually going to close shop for the night.” I shut down my computer, unplugged it from my docking station, and stuffed it in my computer bag.

  I stood up but was blocked by Tasha, who now had a predatory look in her eyes. “Don’t you want to share ideas? Maybe brainstorm?” Her hand reached out and pressed on my shirt buttons. “Think about it, Henry. We can combine our ideas and then share the position.”

  “They are not going to split the job in two.” What kind of world was she living in?

  She stepped even closer, backing me into my desk. “I know on Friday I was a little ornery, but I was caught off guard when I saw you in the conference room. You’re good at your job, Henry, and I was intimidated.”

  If there was one thing Tasha wasn't on Friday, it was intimidated. Her hand was inching up my shirt and she was leaning in way too close. Then two things happened simultaneously: I reached up with my spare hand to move her away when the elevator dinged and Rosie walked into the office space . . . wearing a trench coat. She was watching her feet glide across the floor until she was only a few feet away from my cube. And that was when she saw Tasha practically crawling all over me.

  Fuck.

  All the blood in my body rushed to the floor as I took in the look of betrayal and devastation on her face.

  “Rosie . . .” I said, stepping aside from Tasha, computer bag in hand.

  Rosie stepped back as I approached, while pointing behind me. “Is that Tasha?” Her voice was shaky, and she stammered.

  “Rosie, it’s not what you think.” I stepped closer, but she took another step back. I knew the look on her face, because there had only been one other time I'd seen it. The night Tasha opened my bedroom door and told Rosie we were moving out. Together. Fuck, I'd been an idiot. Now? I could feel her slipping away, and it was the most horrifying feeling I’d ever experienced.

  To make things worse, Tasha stepped up behind me, placed her hand on my shoulder and said, “Hey, Rosie, long time no see. How are you, girl?”

  Rosie didn’t answer her. “Why are you here?”

  “Oh, Henry didn’t tell you? I’m working here now.”

  “You’re . . . you’re working here?” Rosie pointed at the ground. “As in working with Henry, late at night, with your hands all over him?”

  “Oh, that?” Tasha laughed. “Just reminiscing on who we used to be. Isn’t that right, Henry? We’ve always been so hot together.”

  “Nope, no.” I shook my head, hating every moment of this. “No.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Rosie shouted—incredibly loudly—and then sprinted toward the elevator, where she continuously pushed the down button.

  Turning to Tasha, I said, “Leave me the fuck alone, Tasha. You just turned my night into a shitstorm.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “Maybe when you’re done playing house, you can come hang with a real woman.”

  I looked Tasha dead in the eyes, hoping she would get it through her head what I was about to tell her. “Real? What we had is in the past and that’s where it stays, Tasha. I am in love with Rosie, so there will be no reminiscing. If you’re attempting to ruin what I have with Rosie because you’re seeking some kind of vengeance? That just makes you a sick human being. Leave me the fuck alone.”

  I didn’t let her answer. Instead, I chased after Rosie, but when I got to the elevator, the doors had closed before I could stop them. Fuck. She had
to believe me. She had to know I'd never cheat on her. Fuck. It's going to be a long night.

  By the time I got home, it was well over thirty minutes of battling elevators, stairs, taxis, and every single person in New York City. For some reason, the entire population decided to walk the streets tonight and got in my way. Surprisingly, I held on to my composure and didn’t punch every random stranger in my way.

  The apartment was dark when I opened the door, not a light to be seen or a sound to be heard. A sickening feeling came over me as I dropped my computer bag in the entryway and searched the apartment. Sir Licks-a-Lot was on the living room windowsill, licking his crotch as usual, and barely looked away from his kitty balls to acknowledge my arrival.

  Ignoring him, I blew past the living room and straight into the bedroom, where Rosie was lying on the bed, curled into a ball and sobbing. My heart broke in two from the sight of seeing her so weak, so sad. I did that to her. Fucking Tasha.

  I took off my jacket, tossed it to the side, and walked to the bed. “Love, can we talk?”

  She shook her head.

  “Rosie, please, I need to talk to you about this. I don’t want you being upset.”

  She picked up her head and I swear venom shot out of her mascara-drenched eyes as she shouted at me. “Well, it’s too late for that, isn’t it?”

  I sat on the bed to be closer to her, but she scooted away. She was still in her coat, and it didn’t look like she had anything under it.

  Christ. I ran my hand over my face and gathered my thoughts.

  “Rosie, I’m going to try to talk to you in a rational, calm voice. Can you please listen to me before getting emotional?”

  “Emotional?” she screamed, as she sat up in bed. She pulled her hair out of her high ponytail, shoved her hand through the top, and pulled so her hair was sticking straight up in the air. Her eyes were wild and her movements erratic. I was scared for my life. “How can I not get emotional when I walked in on you and Tasha making out?”

  Yup, this wasn’t going to be fun. God, I hate that she assumed the worst.

  “First of all”—I held up my hand as I spoke to her, trying to calm her inner crazy—“we were not making out, not even close to it.”

  “Likely story.” She crossed her arms and puffed up her chest.

  I rubbed my forehead and took a deep breath. “Rosie, why would I make out with Tasha? What on earth would possess me to do that?”

  “Well, you did it right after we had sex for the first time.”

  And there it was, the unspoken elephant in the room that had always put a black mark on our young relationship. The Tasha incident.

  To be fair, it wasn’t all my fault. Rosie and I had sex for the first time a few months back, and it was by far, the best thing that ever happened in my life. I had been wanting to make Rosie mine for a while, and finally, finally she gave in to my flirting and the passes I was making at her.

  When I claimed her lips, and pressed our bodies together for the first time, I was immediately lost in her love. I believed right then and there, there would be no turning back for me. Rosie was it, she would be my girl for as long as I lived.

  Was our first time a little awkward because she kept asking questions? Yes, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Watching her face light up when her orgasm took over her body and listening to the sweet sounds pop out of her mouth would forever be engrained in my mind.

  Afterward, I wanted to hold her all night, I wanted to continue to explore her body, I wanted to tell her I was in love with her, but then, she checked her voicemail . . .

  Literally seconds after I pulled out of her, she had her phone in her hand, listening to a voicemail from another man.

  Try being a man who’d been pining after a girl for so long, then finally being able to get lost in her sweet skin, only to be brushed off right after you came inside her. I was fucking wrecked.

  The call was from Atticus, the man with the busted balls, who she’d danced with and actually had a decent connection with.

  She then told me he wanted to go out with her again.

  I could still smell her on my skin when she told me this. I could still feel her pussy wrapped around my cock.

  At that moment, it felt like she’d used me to lose her virginity, that despite what I’d seen in her eyes, she actually had no intention whatsoever of being with me. So, I did what any other broken-hearted man with an ounce of pride left inside would have done: I went on the defensive. I acted like what we just did hadn’t rocked my world and flipped it upside down.

  I was angry, completely and utterly devastated, but I didn’t show it.

  Instead of being a man and claiming her as mine, I took what was left of my shattered heart and moved on. Was it the right thing to do? No, but I was human and humans made mistakes.

  “Fine, you want to talk about what happened with Tasha a few months ago? Let’s get into it. Let’s rip it open.” I was angry. I probably didn't have the right to be angry now, because I knew now that she'd never had any intention of calling Atticus back. I knew now that she'd been a devastated mess who'd cried for days, and had felt so betrayed by seeing me move out with Tasha. But for some stupid reason, my anger had resurfaced, and I waited for her to answer me. If we were going to fight, might as well get it all out.

  In a hoity voice, Rosie said, “If you were a character in a book, you would have lost all chance of becoming a book boyfriend. You broke the cardinal sin in every romance novel: you were with another woman after you were with me.”

  I lost it. “News flash, Rosie, we’re not living in a romance novel. This is real fucking life, not some fictional story you read on your Kindle. Do you know what happens in real life? We get hurt, we act on those hurt feelings, and then we do stupid shit we will regret later. And I didn’t even fuck her! Not everything is going to end as a happily ever after. You have to work for love, you have to earn it, and you sure as hell have to maintain it.”

  She was silent as she let my words sink in. I was nervous that I might have been too harsh on her. Tears streamed down her face, and I mentally kicked myself in the crotch for my outburst. She was already on edge, I didn’t have to lose my cool in front of her, especially after what she saw.

  I ran my hand through my hair and broke the silence between us. “Listen, love. I’m sorry—”

  She held up her hand to stop me, and her tear-streaked face met mine. “You hurt me, Henry. You hurt me the day I found Tasha in your room with you, and that feeling has weighed heavily on me ever since. I was coming home that night to tell you that I realized I’d been wrong. And that I finally understood that you wanted me. Loved me. And then to see you had already decided we weren’t worth fighting for? That you’d chosen your ex-girlfriend over me? Seeing her on you tonight brought back all those horrible emotions of pain and self-doubt and not being good enough for you.”

  I couldn’t have felt like any bigger of an ass.

  “I’m sorry, Rosie. If I could take back anything, I would take back the way I reacted after we made love for the first time.”

  “Made love?” Rosie asked, a lift to the side of her lips.

  “Yes, made love. Rosie, I was already so madly in love with you. All I wanted was to hold you in my arms and keep you there forever after the first time, but the first moment you could, you checked your voicemail. It was a huge blow to my ego and my heart. I reacted in a shitty way, brushed you off, and tried to work you out of my system. Was it smart? No. Was I being human? Yes. We all react to situations differently. A bigger and less prideful man would have talked to you about his feelings, but it felt like I had been trying to tell you how I felt for so long, but you weren’t interested. All those nights when we hung out while you were on your mission to lose your virginity were precious to me. I tried to give you hints that I was the man you were looking for, but you never picked up on it. After you listened to your voicemail, I guess I just gave up. I assumed you wanted nothing to do with me, so I tried to move on.�
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  “Oh.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “I never would have thought about it that way, Henry. You’d dated Tasha on and off for a while. You’d slept with beautiful, if not vacuous, woman after woman ever since I'd known you. All I could think is that I'd never be the one you'd want. That I'd imagined everything between us.”

  “I’m not trying to come up with excuses, love. What I did was wrong, I didn’t handle my emotions well, and I hurt you even more. I will always hate myself for that, but what you saw tonight was not even close to what I can only imagine you’re thinking.”

  “And what am I exactly thinking?” And Defensive Rosie was back.

  Why were things so hot and cold with this woman lately?

  I let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know, probably something insane like I’ve been banging her behind your back.” I threw my hands up in annoyance.

  “Have you?” Her eyebrow rose in question.

  “No,” I yelled. “Christ, Rosie, when would I have time to bang someone else? When I’m not on my computer working my ass off in the office, I’m here with you, my dick most likely in your hands. You’re all I ever want.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me about her working with you?”

  Good point.

  “I was afraid you’d get upset and it would start a fight.”

  “Did you think I wasn’t going to find out?”

  “Honestly, I never expected you to show up at my office, especially late at night in nothing but a trench coat.”

  “How do you know I don’t have anything underneath this?” I could see her face light up.

  Was this one of her many sexual games, fight and then have make-up sex? I had no fucking clue what was going through her mind.

  I pointed at the opening of the coat. “I can almost see the pink of your nipple.”

  She gasped and closed the lapels together. “How dare you.” She got up from the bed, walked around to my side, and slowly moved to the bathroom—but incredibly slowly. Did she want me to grab her? She looked over her shoulder at me and a small smile peeked past her lips.