I turn to go, but Melody stops me with a hand on my arm.
“Nick, wait,” she says, a wrinkle between her eyes. “I’m not ready to go home with you right now, but I don’t want to be friends, either. There’s something between us, something intense. I’ve never felt anything like this before. And I know you feel it, too.”
“I really have to go,” I say, suddenly needing to be out of this bar and away from Melody as quickly as possible. “Sorry. See you at work.”
I spin and push my way through the crowd, ignoring Melody’s call for me to come back. On my way to the door, I catch John’s eye and lift a hand to wave goodbye, making it clear that I’m leaving, but that John is free to stay.
I want him to stay, and to hopefully find a woman who would rather take him back to her place tonight. I could use a Friday night without sex noises coming from John’s side of the apartment.
Being so close to people doing things I wish I was doing with Melody would be torture.
Pure torture.
Like being this close to her and turning to walk away.
Chapter 6
Melody
The next morning, I wake up sour inside, achy and cranky and generally over the whole morning thing before it’s even gotten started.
For a second, I worry I might have the flu, but then the events of last night come rushing back.
After Nick bailed on me for the crime of being a twenty-two-year-old virgin—a fact that still fills me with a toxic mix of mortification, anger, and frustration—I called Kitty and told her not to bother coming out to the bar. I lied, said I had a headache, and caught a cab back to my apartment where I spent hours tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep.
The sheets were suddenly too scratchy, the air-conditioned room too hot, and the fan so squeaky it set my teeth to grinding. Every tiny stimulus pricked at my skin like needles, and all I could think about was Nick.
Nick and his bone-melting kisses and electrifying touch.
Nick and his apparent hatred for virgins.
Yeah, well, you’re not the only one who can hate things, asshole.
I hate him for making me feel this way, for awakening a hunger inside me I had no idea existed and then leaving me twisting in the wind, so sexually frustrated even seven hours of sleep hasn’t banished the itch beneath my skin.
“You should have kept quiet about the Big V and just gone home with him already,” I mutter to my ceiling fan, but the words feel wrong in my mouth.
I don’t want my first time to be a casual thing or a one-night stand.
I’ve waited too long for that. And even though I’m fed up with waiting—and have pretty much decided that, what my mama doesn’t know, won’t hurt her, and some promises, especially those made when you were twelve and had no idea what you were promising, were meant to be broken—I’m still a romantic.
I want to be in love.
I wanted devotion and hearts and flowers…but I also want Nick.
I want him bad. The dreams I had last night were probably X-rated. I’ve never watched porn, but I’m pretty sure the images that flicker on my mental screen every time I imagine being alone with Nick belong on an 18 and over only website.
I’m partly ashamed of myself for letting my thoughts roll around in the gutter, partly turned on, and completely confused.
What’s a virgin with a crush on a bad boy to do?
I need advice, and in this particular situation there’s only one person I feel comfortable talking to, one person who knows a thing or two about bad boys, being wild, and living to settle down with the man of her dreams.
Two hours later, I’m on Aria’s front stoop, a bag of fresh bagels in one hand and two tubs of flavored cream cheese in the other.
Aria opens the door, a surprised smile on her face. She’s still in her pajama shorts and a tank top and her long, wild red hair hasn’t been brushed, but she looks happy to see me.
Still, I feel compelled to ask, “Is this a bad time? Am I too early? I can come back later if I’m too early.”
“Don’t be silly, come in! We’re just having a lazy morning. Nothing bagels and a sister can’t improve on.” She motions me inside and leads the way to the kitchen, past the living room where her husband, Nash, and Felicity, Aria’s baby from her first marriage, are playing with toys on the floor.
Felicity looks up, spots me, and gives a happy squeal that goes straight to my heart. God, I love that kid. She’s just the best.
“Hey, baby girl,” I say, pointing the bag her way. “Guess what I brought? Bagels!”