The Virgin Romance Novelist

by Meghan Quinn

  A soft knock played at my door, as Henry’s smooth voice flowed through.

  “Rosie, come have breakfast, love.”

  “I’m not moving from this bed,” I called out, as I placed my pillow over my head.

  Henry let himself in my bedroom and sat next to me. He pulled my pillow away and looked down at me with soft eyes. He was shirtless, like usual on Saturday mornings, and was wearing a thin pair of grey sweatpants that sat low on his hips. His hair was messed and pushed to the side, while there was a light five o’clock shadow gracing his jaw.

  It was unfair to have such a hot roommate.

  “You can’t stay in here all day. Come have breakfast with us, love.”

  “I can’t. I’m too mortified to do anything.”

  “It wasn’t that bad, Rosie.”

  “Not that bad?” I replied, as I sat up and looked Henry in the eyes. “Henry, I kicked my date in the balls, to the point where he had to step outside to throw up from how hard I kicked him. I reverted his balls back to undescended testicles.”

  Chuckling and not caring to hide it, Henry said, “Don’t give yourself that much credit; you weren’t kicking that hard.” Trying to sweetly console me, he rubbed my back as I beat myself up about last night.

  “He turned green!” I admitted.

  “That is invalid information. There was no way in that lighting you could see his face turn green; it’s practically impossible to make such an assessment. We have to scratch that statement from the record,” he joked, trying to bring light to the situation.

  “I hate that you’re enjoying this.”

  “I’m not enjoying it,” Henry softened some more and grabbed my hand. “I’m just trying to show you it’s not the end of the world.”

  “It is! I actually liked him, Henry. I felt like maybe we could have had something.”

  “You still could,” he tried to encourage me.

  “Henry, pretty sure I burned that bridge the minute my foot connected with his nut sac.”

  “You never know; he might have liked it…”

  “There is something wrong with you,” I said, as I threw my blankets off of me and put on my slippers as I headed out toward the kitchen, where Delaney was spinning around. Derk sat at the bar and watched Delaney with dreamy eyes. They would be getting married at some point in time; it was obvious by the way he admired her. If only I had someone like Derk, minus the hideous name.

  “There’s our little nutcracker,” Delaney called out, while pointing at me with her spatula.

  “Ha, ha, very funny.” I slumped on a stool next to Derk, who put his arm around me in consolation.

  “Don’t sweat it, Bloom; I’m sure the guy has already forgotten about it.”

  “Would you have forgotten about a girl with powder coming out of her privates who kicked innocent balls?”

  He thought about it for a second and then shook his head no. “I would be posting that on my Facebook any chance I got.”

  “Derk,” Delaney scolded him, but laughed at the same time. What a friend.

  “It’s going to blow over,” Henry cut in, as he poured me a glass of orange juice. “You need to let it go, because you have a date tonight, don’t you? With that cat photographer?”

  “Oooh, a cat photographer, that seems exciting,” Derk cooed next to me.

  “He’s not just a cat photographer,” I corrected everyone. “He occasionally shoots pieces for us. He likes to spend his time traveling and doing photo shoots for travel magazines and has even had some of his photos in National Geographic. He helps us out on occasion, just for some easy money.”

  “World traveler, seems interesting. Is he hot?” Derk asked, while forking a couple of waffles onto an empty plate. He was a giant of a man, like a six-five kind of giant, and he ate like it. He could inhale one waffle in two bites, and by the look of his plate, those weren’t his first waffles.

  “He’s hot,” I said, while thinking about Lance. “He’s got this whole Justin Timberlake vibe to him, you know, post Ramen Noodle hair.”

  “Don’t knock the noodles; you know it was hot back then,” Delaney warned.

  I held up my hands in defense, “Just wanted to be clear, that’s all.”

  “They’re going bowling,” Henry said over the lip of his coffee mug. “Don’t you think bowling sounds fun tonight?” he asked Delaney and Derk, whose ears perked up.

  “It does. I think it’s time we dust off our bowling shoes, don’t you think, sweetie?” Delaney asked, while putting some waffles on a plate for me.

  “Don’t you three even dare.”

  “Why not?” Henry asked, looking a little hurt.

  “I don’t need you guys peeking over the ball shelf, staring at me, watching my every move. I already have to deal with meeting his friends; I don’t need to think about you three watching me as well.

  “We’d be there to help,” Henry offered.

  “Yeah, a lot of help you were last night.”

  After drenching my waffles in strawberry syrup, my favorite, I cut them up in small pieces like a child and started eating them, ignoring the glare Henry was giving me. I knew he was just trying to help last night, but all he did was make matters worse once he started the dance-off with Atticus.

  Oh, poor Atticus and his balls. I really hoped he was okay and I didn’t do any permanent damage.

  “Are you mad at me?” Henry asked, as he pulled up a stool next to me; his warm hand went straight to my thigh.

  “No,” I sighed. “It’s not your fault. It was just bad luck and a need to itch the godforsaken red brick road.”

  “Is it still bothering you?” Delaney asked, now sitting down with us to chow down on some waffles.

  “Not as bad as last night.”

  “Well, that’s a good sign; you should be clearing up soon. Happened to me when I first got waxed too. Remember that, Derk?”

  “Yeah, looked like a fucking ant farm grew on her crotch. Couldn’t touch her for days.”

  “Thanks,” she admonished. As she chewed on some waffles, she asked, “Any interest from the online site?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I forgot about it,” I admitted.

  With all the action between Atticus and Lance, I completely forgot about Henry’s attempt at getting me into the dating world. I hated to admit it, but I was just a tiny bit curious whether men thought I was interesting or not.

  “Well, let’s see,” Delaney said, while grabbing Henry’s tablet off the counter. “What was her password again?”

  “Take my flower,” Henry said with a mouth full of syrupy waffle.

  “Oh, that’s awesome,” Derk laughed. I assumed he knew about my little chastity belt because whatever Delaney knew, Derk knew. It was some kind of couple’s code; they knew everything. It was a BOGO when handing out information, you tell one, the other is going to know. I was okay with it, since Derk was a nice guy.

  “Oh, my God, sixty-seven responses.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked, almost choking on my last bite of waffle.

  “Yes.”

  She turned the tablet in my direction, and sure enough, there were sixty-seven requests just waiting for me to read.

  “How can I even filter through those?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m already on it,” she said, while scrolling through the requests and deleting the ones she apparently didn’t like for me. “Bald, ugly, fat, mole face, sporadic facial hair, bald, loves Nickelback—go bury your head in a hole.” She looked up from the tablet and stated, “No friend of mine is going to date someone who listens to Nickelback. No way in hell.”

  “Agreed,” Henry said, while raising his fork to the sky.

  “What’s wrong with Nickelback?” Derk asked.

  All three of us turned our heads and stared Derk down. Delaney took a deep breath and said, “Sweetie, I think for the sake of our relationship, you should rephrase that question.”

  Derk’s eyes bounced back and forth as he looked at all three of us. F
inally, he said, “Uh…fuck Nickelback?”

  “Yeah!” we all cheered, confusing the hell out of Derk, but instead of pushing his luck, he just shrugged his shoulders and picked at the fruit that was in the middle of the counter.

  “So, any good prospects?” Henry asked, while looking over at the tablet in Delaney’s hands.

  “There is this one guy. His name is Alejandro and seems to be really nice. Look, a picture with his little sister, how sweet.”

  “Alejandro, that rolls right off the tongue nicely,” Derk approved.

  “Let me see this guy.”

  Looking irritated, Henry pulled the tablet away from Delaney and started looking at Alejandro’s profile. His brow creased as he read all about my potential date.

  “It says here that his job is an artist…that’s a hobby not a job, can’t trust those guys. Oh, and look, he has a pet iguana…that’s stupid.”

  “There is nothing wrong with a pet iguana,” Delaney countered. “He would be perfect for Rosie. Clearly, the guy is handsome, with that thick black hair of his and dark eyes. You know he would romance our girl, and that’s what she needs. His Latin love would spice up her life.”

  “I don’t like him,” Henry disapproved.

  “Well, thankfully, it’s not up to you; it’s up to Rosie.”

  Without warning, Delaney snatched the tablet from Henry and handed it to me.

  “See for yourself, he’s handsome, he looks fun, and you know he would be able to melt the panties right off of you. You would have no problem relaxing around him.”

  The profile picture on the screen showed a man who seemed to be in his later twenties, wearing a bright teal tank top, showing off his muscles, and a pair of sunglasses on top of his head. The background seemed to be some foreign coastline, where the water was just as blue as his shirt. His smile reached cheek to cheek, and I realized that he could possibly be one of the prettier men I had ever seen. He wasn’t rugged; he was more suave.

  “He’s attractive,” I mumbled, as I looked through his profile. I was kind of shocked that such a pretty man was interested in me, but I was flattered to say the least. There was a message in my inbox from him, so I decided to take a look at it.

  Hi Rosie,

  I couldn’t help but write to you after seeing your profile picture. Your red glasses caught my eye, along with those beautiful blue eyes of yours.

  After further stalking, I saw that you love tacos, making you a girl after my own heart. I can’t get enough of tacos; they are my one and only addiction. If you’re not too busy, maybe I could take you out for some amazing tacos not too far from my apartment. I promise you, they are the best tacos in New York City.

  What do you say?

  Awaiting your reply – Alejandro

  “Well, he seems sweet,” I blushed.

  “He wants to take you out for tacos,” Henry admonished. “How is that sweet?”

  “He wants to eat your taco,” Derk chuckled to himself.

  “Watch it,” Henry warned uncharacteristically. “I don’t like Alejandro; I don’t trust him.”

  “You don’t even know him,” Delaney countered, while she gathered everyone’s empty plates. “Write him back, Rosie. Set up a date.”

  I studied Alejandro’s profile some more, while Derk cleaned up for Delaney, like the dutiful boyfriend he was.

  He seemed nice, like a genuine guy, but what could you really tell from the Internet? He could be a psycho killer in real life, but his profile could say he knitted sweaters for nuns at Christmas time. Should I really give him a chance? And why was Henry so against Alejandro? Was he seeing something I wasn’t?

  “Why don’t you like Alejandro?” I asked, cutting the silence that had fallen in the kitchen.

  “He seems…too experienced. I don’t want him taking advantage of you,” Henry replied.

  “You don’t think I can handle myself with an experienced person?”

  Henry gave me a pointed look and said, “Love, you kicked a guy in the crotch last night, not sure how well you will do under a very nerve-racking situation.”

  Insulted, I sat back on my stool and looked at Henry. Hurt crossed me as I thought about his words. Yes, I wasn’t experienced, but I was pretty sure I could handle myself when put in a situation that I wanted for myself.

  “You’re an ass,” I finally said, as I got up and took Henry’s tablet back to my room with me. Alejandro was going to be getting a message.

  The minute I walked through my doorway, I shut the door behind me to gain some privacy, but it was stopped by Henry’s hand.

  “Leave,” I said, not bothering to turn around.

  “Rosie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just worried.”

  “Well, stop worrying, Henry. I can handle myself; I’m not a child.”

  He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, clearly flustered. “I know you’re not a child, I just…God, Rosie, I care about you.”

  Finally turning around, I set the tablet on my bed and walked toward him. I placed both my hands on his shoulders and said, “I appreciate your concern, but I want a friend, not a big brother. I want you to help teach me what I need to know, not be my knight in shining armor.”

  “But I like being your knight,” he smiled sheepishly.

  “I know, but it’s time you step back, Henry. I can’t have you there for me forever; you’re going to move on at some point, maybe with that big breasted lady from last night.”

  “Charlene? No, she’s just fuckable. No substance to her.”

  “See, that’s what I want. Maybe Alejandro is just fuckable, maybe he will be fun enough where I can let loose and gain some experience. I need experience, Henry, because right now, my book is about as dry as my vagina.”

  Henry’s lip twisted in a smile. “I told you I could do something about that for you.”

  “Get real,” I pushed him away, but he grabbed my arms and pulled me into a hug, making my stomach flutter all over again from being so close to him.

  “Do you forgive me?” he whispered softly against my hair. How could I not?

  “Always.” I squeezed him tightly, pressing my cheek to his bare chest.

  “Are you really going to write him back?”

  “I am.”

  “Will you tell me where you go at least?”

  “Do you promise not to watch me through the window?”

  “I can make no such promise, but I can try.”

  Laughing, I said, “I guess that’s the best I can ask for.”

  Once Henry let go of me, I grabbed his tablet and we sat down on my bed together and wrote Alejandro back.

  Alejandro,

  You had me at tacos. Let me know when and where.

  Ready to munch – Rosie

  “You sure it’s not too lame?” I asked before sending. It wasn’t a very poetic message, but it got the point across.

  “No, it’s perfect.”

  “Don’t you think munch sounds a bit sexual?”

  “Yes, and that’s the point,” Henry cringed. “Not that I really want you giving out sexual innuendos, but as a friend giving advice, this is perfect.”

  “Okay, good.”

  With confidence, I pressed send and just hoped I didn’t sound too cheesy.

  “I’m proud of you,” Henry said.

  “Why’s that?” I asked, as I walked to my desk and opened up my laptop to the dating website to scope out the other messages.

  Henry adjusted his seat on my unmade bed and played with the blankets.

  “For putting yourself out there, it’s very brave.”

  “It’s all for research,” I smirked.

  “How is the book coming along?”

  “Scratched the whole thing. I don’t know if a medieval romance is something I can write.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, since I’ve started this new journey, I’ve been reading some more contemporary romance and I have to be honest with you, I love it. Con
temporary romance is so much different than historical romance. It’s a little more edgy, the slang is more up to date and the sex, holy crap, Henry, you should read some of these sex scenes.”

  “Really?” he asked, looking really intrigued. “Like soft porn?”

  “More like hard porn.” I leaned forward and spoke animatedly. “The girls like it hard, they like their panties to be ripped off, and they tell the guy they’re with when they’re going to…” I looked around and whispered, “come, like straight up shout it to the rooftops.”

  A bellow of a laugh escaped Henry as he held his stomach.

  “What’s so funny? It’s true. And you should read some of the things these girls do. Henry, I read one book where the girl let the guy stick a pencil in her butt hole.”

  Henry’s laughing seized and one of his eyebrows rose in question.

  “Rosie, what the hell are you reading? I don’t remember downloading any book like that for you.”

  “It’s a teacher/student romance. I know I had mixed feelings about that kind of story, but I just went for it. It seemed interesting, but then things got a little out of control…but still it’s fascinating. She liked the pencil in her butt hole; she was holding it for him while he graded her physique. She got an A plus, of course, but still, just fascinating.”

  “Rosie, you know she could have just held the pencil with her hands, he didn’t have to stick it in her butt hole…that seems kind of odd.”

  “Wait,” I stopped him with my hand up and said, “That’s not a regular thing?”

  “Sticking pencils in people’s assholes? No, Rosie, that is not normal.”

  I sat back in my seat and thought about it for a second. It seemed so normal in the book…there was no hesitation. It was like, oh you’re sticking that pencil in my ass, perfect! Like the woman knew her ass was the perfect pencil holder and should be modeled as the modern day pencil holder.

  “Well, that seems a little disturbing then. Why would the author write that?”