Take My V-Card

by Layla Valentine

  “Yes, I suppose the odds of the two are about the same.”

  I was trying to find a way to extricate myself without making a complete fool of myself, but I wasn’t having much success. All of the signs I had forced myself to ignore were suddenly making sense, and I wished that I had gone with my gut and ghosted him.

  “This is great! I almost can’t believe it, I’m so stoked, I didn’t even know you still lived in town! You do, don’t you? Gosh, you look amazing. Would you like to sit down? It’s a lot easier to eat Mexican food that way. Not as messy.” He was grinning like an idiot, and his excitement and obvious joy cracked my force field of old, worn-out anger as efficiently as I had cracked the mirror. I was hungry, after all, and what harm could one date do anyway?

  “All right,” I said, perching tentatively on the edge of the seat.

  He looked me over and shook his head, still beaming. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “What a crazy coincidence.”

  “You said that already,” I told him as I picked up a menu.

  “Yeah,” he said, glancing down at the table with a self-deprecating little laugh. “Trust me, I’m trying to work up to the thing I really should be saying.”

  “Oh? What should you be saying?” I kept my voice neutral and disinterested, but my heart was thundering like a galloping horse in my chest.

  He hesitated, spinning his straw in his drink. When he began talking again, the giddiness had been replaced by a shamed, almost confessional tone. “Rhona… Six years ago, I made a mistake. Not just any mistake, either; the worst mistake in the history of ever.”

  I rose an eyebrow at him over the menu. “Took up drama club?” I asked.

  He laughed, chipping a bit more ice away from my facade. Men so rarely found my humor to their liking, and his authentic laugh was so validating that I almost forgot to be angry for a minute.

  “Okay, so maybe buying a ticket to sail on the Titanic was a bigger mistake, but within the parameters of my personal mistakes on my personal timeline, it was the worst mistake ever.”

  “I’ll accept that,” I said seriously, my own amusement hovering under the surface. “The admission, anyway.”

  “Not the apology?”

  “I haven’t heard one yet.”

  “Ouch. But fair. Rhona… Would you look at me? I know I’m hideous and all, but it would help…”

  I rolled my eyes, pressing my lips together against the grin threatening to break free, and laid the menu aside.

  “All right,” I said. “I’m looking.”

  And I was looking, too, but I instantly knew it was a mistake. I was struck with the full force of his gorgeous face and charming, earnest expression, by the way the soft restaurant lighting gave his penny-brown hair a ginger halo, by the curve of his expressive lips. For a moment, I forgot to breathe, then he touched my hand and I remembered.

  “I’m so sorry, Rhona,” he said without a hint of sarcasm or humor. “I’ve spent years regretting my behavior that night. I never should have stood you up, and especially not when I knew first hand that you had just been stood up.”

  He took a deep breath and hung his head for a long, shame-filled moment. When he looked back up at me, his eyes were glistening.

  “If you allow it, I would like nothing more than to begin again with you. I’ve never met anyone like you, and I’m really tired of dating store-brand Rhonas.”

  He earned himself a chuckle, and he perked up.

  “Don’t get too excited,” I said quickly. “You aren’t forgiven just yet. But this is my favorite restaurant and I did shell out half a paycheck to be here, so I’ll stay for dinner.”

  “Thank you,” he breathed, looking authentically relieved. His smile warmed his eyes like dawn over the sea, and his voice vibrated with an earnest joy. “You really do look great, Rhona.”

  “Thanks,” I said breathlessly, still trying to figure out how I felt about the situation. “My friend talked me into the pearls and stuff; she said they looked classy.”

  “They yabba-dabba-do,” he said with a little smirk.

  “Oh my God.” I covered my face, unable to suppress a little laugh. “I didn’t even realize…!”

  “Don’t worry,” he said with a grin. “You bed-rock that look.”

  I threw back my head and laughed like I hadn’t laughed in longer than I could remember, and I was immediately at ease with him, just as I had been the first time around. The man had a dangerous effect on me, but I couldn’t work up the self-preservation to care at that moment.

  “Man, your laugh is awesome. I almost forgot.” He grinned across the table at me, melting the years of preserved animosity away.

  My phone rang just then, and I shot him an apologetic look as I answered.

  “This is your really big emergency calling,” Sara said blandly.

  “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number,” I said lightly.

  “Boo-yah! Told you so.” She hung up the phone, and I grinned as I slid it back into my purse.

  “Ready to order?” he asked.

  “I am. You?”

  “One handsome date, coming right up,” he said with a wink.

  I rolled my eyes at him, suppressing a grin.

  “They can’t all be winners. Save me from myself, tell me about you, what have you been up to, how have you been? You aren’t still interning, I hope.”

  “No,” I laughed. “I did manage to crawl up out of the cinders. I’m a digital marketer now; I’ve got my own clients and everything. I mean, they’re the company’s clients, but I manage their accounts and do the design work and everything. What about you?”

  “Wow! Congratulations! I haven’t done anything quite that impressive, just started up a company.”

  “You opened your own company?” I asked, openly impressed. “That’s way more impressive than my thing! You’re teasing me,” I realized with a mildly disappointed sigh.

  “Not at all,” he said quickly. “Cross my heart. No, in this economy, it’s way easier to start your own company than it is to make a dent in the corporate ladder. I’m truly impressed by your tenacity.” He was either very earnest or a very good actor. I couldn’t really picture the latter, so I accepted the former for the moment.

  “I can’t imagine opening my own business,” I confessed. “I mean…not unless somebody told me to, and then pushed me into doing it when I resisted,” I amended with a rueful chuckle.

  “Well, I guess it does take a little bit of bravado, so to speak, to strike out on your own. And more than a little recklessness,” he added with a chuckle. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure I would take the same risks today.”

  “You don’t think you could succeed at it if you tried to start now?” I asked.

  “Oh, I know I would succeed,” he said with a sexy, cocky little smile. “But I would go about it a different way. Six years ago, I sold my car, moved back in with my parents, and put every last dime I had into developing a single app, utterly convinced that it would be a smashing success and that I would be rich the second it launched.”

  “So?” I asked with a teasing smile. “Did you get rich overnight?”

  “Not quite,” he laughed. “No, I had a good couple years of ramen noodles and bus passes before I managed to turn a decent enough profit to expand my business and take care of myself.”

  “But you did it,” I said, gesturing to his higher-end attire. “Clearly.”

  “Yeah, I did all right,” he said with a little shrug.

  Blake caught sight of a photographer making his way around the tables toward us, offering his services to the various couples.

  “What do you say?” he asked. “Feel like getting a memento?”

  Curiosity mingled with the easy enjoyment I was surprised to be feeling again already, and I realized that I really did want to stay. It was so easy with him, like we hadn’t missed a day.

  “Absolutely,” I told him with a grin. Relief washed over his expression, making me feel desired in a way
I hadn’t in a very long time. He waved the photographer down.

  “A photo for the lovely couple?” the man asked.

  “Yes, please. Your very best.” Blake winked at me as the photographer adjusted his camera.

  “Ignore the camera, look at each other,” the cameraman instructed.

  It was an easy instruction to follow. I studied his handsome features and found myself getting lost in his eyes. I stopped fighting it, letting myself fall into them as the photographer snapped the photo.

  “Frame?” he asked.

  “Please.”

  “I’ve never seen him here before,” I told Blake as the man moved on to other couples in the room. “But I guess I’ve never been here on a date before. I usually come with my friends.”

  “The bungee-jumping, blind-date-setting friend?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “I can’t believe you remember that! Yes, same friend. We’ve added a third now; she’s sort of halfway between Sara and me, personality-wise.”

  “A balanced trio is the best kind of trio,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Tell me about them.”

  I did, pausing long enough to order. It was usually so difficult for me to converse on a date, but my words flowed freely when Blake was listening. The longer we sat and talked, the more I remembered how very validating he naturally was, simply by existing; his every expressive reaction, every time he got excited about something I was talking about, every moment spent with him assured me that I was enough, just the way I was.

  It was such a stark contrast from how I usually felt about myself in the presence of handsome, interesting men that I had some trouble believing that my feelings reflected the reality of his intentions. But when the photographer returned with a framed photo, I had the rare opportunity to view our date from the outside. Blake’s expression was one of authentic enjoyment and bone-deep hope, and for the first time in forever, I was confident that my date was as thrilled with me as I was with him.

  “Thank you, Mr. Lexington,” the photographer said as Blake signed the receipt. “Enjoy your evening.”

  “I already am,” Blake said with a warm smile. “I already am.”

  Butterflies rushed through my chest as he touched my hand again, and I knew that I was in very serious danger of having the best night of my life.

  Chapter 7

  Rhona

  “So, digital marketing?” Blake asked once we had been eating for a while. “Like what, banner ads and stuff?”

  “That’s part of it,” I admitted with a little laugh. “But only a very small part. Most of what I do is less blatant; mostly content marketing.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

  I paused, afraid to bore him the way I had bored the last date who asked me that, but Blake’s eyes shone with curious interest, and I relaxed.

  “Okay, so you know how company websites frequently have blogs or articles, stuff like that? Content, basically.”

  “Sure.”

  “So what I do is I run analysis on search terms related to the business or product, and figure out which specific phrases people are using to search for the thing. Then I build a formula for a blog post or article which utilizes those specific phrases in an appropriate density so that the business I’m working with directly reflects the exact search terms entered, increasing their chances of being seen.”

  “I see,” he said with interest. “And do you write the articles?”

  “Oh, no. We have in-house writers and sometimes we use freelancers. I basically tell them what to say. Anyway, that’s the easy part of my job. On a more complex level, I create link pathways to maximize traffic, build content pyramids to maximize return rate and conversions, and… I’m boring you,” I cut myself off, embarrassed.

  “No, not at all,” he promised with that sexy little smile. He touched my hand and gazed into my eyes, sending a delicious warmth cascading through my blood, building the pressure between my thighs. With a shuddering sigh, I allowed myself to get lost in his eyes, turning my hand over to press my palm to his.

  I didn’t expect myself to fall this far this fast. I didn’t expect the inferno of desire which shattered my concentration and filled my head with half-imagined fantasies, lacking the clarity of experience. The conversation drifted with my focus, veering away from work.

  “Did you hear that the Black Peaches are touring again?” he asked.

  “I did! I’ve been meaning to get tickets, but I’ve been so busy with work I haven’t had the time. I think they’re in Europe now anyway, but when they get back to the States, I am so going.”

  “I would love to take you,” he said hopefully. “I haven’t been to a concert in years.”

  “Why not?”

  “Work, mostly. It’s hard to get away when you’re in charge of everything.”

  “I bet,” I said sympathetically. “What sort of business is it, anyway?”

  “Tech stuff,” he said vaguely. “It’s pretty boring, honestly. Besides, any time I did have time to go to a show, I found myself wandering the observatory instead. Have you been lately? They’ve done all sorts of cool things to it.”

  “I haven’t,” I told him with a twinge of sadness. “Not since the last time we were there together.”

  He shot me an apologetic look, and I waved it away.

  “Water under the bridge,” I told him. I’m just glad that I didn’t burn that bridge as thoroughly as I meant to, I thought.

  The conversation wound on and on, touching on recent events, favorite music and food, worst movie adaptions of favorite books, a little bit of everything and more. My mind soaked it all up, energized by the connection, thirsty for more. My body wasn’t interested in the small talk, though. Every nerve was begging me to take Blake home and let him do whatever he pleased with every inch of me.

  Laughing at my jokes and asking probing questions which kept me talking, Blake subtly and seamlessly paid the bill and moved our conversation outside. I allowed myself to be guided by him, the decision-making part of my brain relieved to be off the clock for the moment.

  “…and Nina actually talked me into it, I don’t think I ever would have gone through with it otherwise. I was about ready to give up on dates altogether, accept my fate, and rescue fifty cats. I don’t even like cats,” I finished with a laugh.

  “Well I, for one, am thrilled that you decided to download the app instead of adopting the cats,” he said as he smoothly wrapped his arms around my waist. “I missed you, Rhona.”

  “Really?” I murmured, tilting my head up, offering my lips. “How much did you miss me?”

  “Oh… About this much.” His voice was low and husky as he dropped his head to meet my mouth, plummeting me into a lusty haze with his tender, powerful kiss.

  Instinct fueled by desire guided my body, my arms aching to sweep over his muscular body, my fingers desperate to tangle in his hair. He stole my breath in a consuming fire of passion, leaving me lightheaded and buzzing when he finally broke away.

  Breathless, his eyes dark and shining like the ocean under a full moon, he gazed into my soul.

  “I have a confession,” he murmured almost tentatively. “I think…no, I know…that you deserve an explanation.”

  “For how you got to be such a good kisser?” I teased lightly, thirsty to taste him again.

  He chuckled softly, touching my forehead with his own. “That’s natural talent, baby. But no… When I met you the first time. When I broke that date… It was stupid. I was weak then, and easily intimidated.”

  “I intimidated you?” I asked, confused.

  “Your…status,” he said delicately. “I was terrified. The last time I touched a virgin, I was a virgin myself. I was afraid that… Well, a lot of things, but the point is that you deserved better. I would have been honored to have been your first.”

  Would have been? Fear struck my heart as I interpreted him to mean “would have been honored back then, but not so much now.” Befo
re I could react, though, he continued.

  “If I could go back in time, I would have done things differently. Whoever it was to finally get that honor… Well, I hope he cherished the opportunity the way I should have.”

  “Oh,” I breathed, finally understanding.

  I leaned into his chest, inhaling his scent as I wrestled with myself. Should I tell him? What if he just gets scared off again? But the way he talked about it, maybe…maybe he really would cherish it. Maybe he wasn’t just pretty words and vague emotions—I didn’t think he was, but I needed to be sure. If I was ever going to take this step, if I was actually going to pursue a relationship with Blake, I wanted it to be honest from the start.

  “It’s my turn to confess,” I began, my heart rattling away in my chest. “That…what you said…it actually never happened for me.”

  I held my breath as I waited for his reaction. He slowly pulled away, and my heart sank; until I saw the emotion shining in his eyes.

  “You mean you’re still…?”

  “As driven snow,” I confirmed.

  He held me tight for a moment and breathed a shuddering sigh.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “For telling me. You’ve got some guts, girl.”

  “Or I’m just a glutton for punishment,” I said lightly, trying to keep my expectations realistic.

  “Not this time,” he said fiercely, grabbing my shoulders to meet my eyes with a fiery gaze. “Not this time, Rhona. If we were matched again, after all this time, and you still haven’t met the man worthy enough… Well, then that just tells me that I was meant to be here with you, that’s all.”

  My breath caught in my throat. I was ready. I wanted to throw myself against him and beg him to take me back to his place; instead, I froze, watching the minute changes in his expression as he mulled and decided. He hugged me gently, then kissed my cheek with an almost infuriating amount of respect.

  “Rhona,” he breathed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “I was going to ask…but you deserve better. Would you possibly grant me a second…second date? If you say yes, I give you my word that it will be, if not spectacular, then certainly…special.”