I glance down then back up at Chloe with an arched brow. “I didn’t realize a simple, black, short-sleeve dress was a sexy choice.”
Chloe sighs. “Just tell me who’s romancing the happy into you, CJ, so I can do my due diligence as your best friend, google his ass ten ways to next Wednesday, and make sure he’s worthy of you.”
Romancing me? No way. There will be no romance between Graham and me. It’s all business. Well, the business of pleasure. I snicker quietly at my own private joke.
Chloe wags a finger in the air between us. “No lies in this office. That’s rule number one, and you wrote the rules.”
I bite my lip, but this time fighting back a smile has nothing to do with it.
Chloe knows Graham. She’s even joined us for happy hour a few times in the Village on her way back to Brooklyn on her bike. More importantly, she knows Graham’s reputation as a ladies’ man. She’s usually not the kind to judge a guy for something like that, but Chloe also knows about my . . . unique situation.
I twist my lips to one side and then the other, possessed by the warring urges to keep my sex ed plan under wraps and to finally share with someone the monumental changes taking place in my life.
Especially a friend I know I can trust.
“Okay.” I glance over her shoulder and then circle to close the door to my office. I don’t mind dishing with Chloe, but the rest of the staff doesn’t need the scoop on the status of my still amazingly intact virginity.
I snick the door closed and turn with a deep breath to face her. “So, first up, I want to assure you that this was my idea, I know exactly what I’m getting into, and my expectations are totally in line with what my friend is prepared to deliver.”
Chloe’s usually sunshiny expression transforms to a frown. “Uh-oh. I don’t like the sound of this. You always say you know what you’re getting into right before you do something insane, like bid three times over asking price for Hamilton tickets, or decide to bike to the Jersey shore, or foster a litter of abandoned baby pit bulls that pee on every pair of shoes you own.”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing like that. Nothing that’s going to end badly, though I did discover an incredible junkyard on my way to Jersey before I pulled the hamstring, and the pit bulls were adopted by great families, and Stephen King managed not to get eaten by one. Plus, our Macy’s rep loved the musical, and it totally softened her up about holiday product placement. So I’m saying all’s well that ends well.”
Her frown becomes a scowl.
“Fine.”
I lift my arms in surrender. Clearly I need to spit it out before her imagination runs wild. “I wasn’t out on a first date Monday night. I was having my first lesson with Graham. He’s agreed to be my sex ed teacher.”
Chloe’s green eyes bulge.
“And it went really well,” I say, hurrying on. “And pretty soon I’m going to know everything I want to know about being a man-magnet and finally have my V card punched in the process. It’s a win-win. All win. Total win.”
And I just said “win” four times.
My repetition does not go unnoticed. “So, what you’re saying is, you’re winning?” Chloe counters slowly, taking her time with each word. “At least until you crack your head open on the bottom of the pool because you went right from the wading area to jumping off the high dive at the Olympics.” Her expression grows distinctly concerned. “CJ, you know I like Graham, but he’s a . . . and you’re a . . .” She waves her hand up and down, gesturing to me from head to toe.
“I’m a pigeon, and he’s a bald eagle?” I suggest.
Chloe snorts. “Um, I was thinking more a shark and a baby seal, but okay. Eagles eat pigeons, right?”
“Actually, they eat fish. But Graham is not going to eat me,” I say, then a scandalized snort escapes my lips as I realize how that sounds. “Sorry.” I wave a hand in front of my face as I swallow the burst of laughter because, of course, he’s going to do just that. And soon, I hope. “I shouldn’t be going there. I’m not open to talking specifics. That stays between Graham and me.”
“Does it?” She arches a honey-colored brow. “Because last time I checked, Graham wasn’t the kind who minded everyone knowing who he was fucking, how often, and in what kinky positions.”
“That’s not Graham,” I say, jumping to his defense. “He doesn’t kiss-and-tell. His exes are the ones who talk.”
“And how many of them are there? Fifty? One hundred? Two hundred?” Chloe bites her lip. “You did have Mr. Man Whore tested before you jumped on his pony, right? I’m worried about your health, you know, not just your heart.”
“Graham would never expose me to anything that would hurt me,” I say firmly, not a sliver of doubt in my mind. “He’s clean. He cares about me. And we are both approaching this as adults who are friends and are deeply respectful of each other.” I wiggle my shoulders back and forth. “And we haven’t gotten to the pony-riding yet, but soon, maybe. Maybe very soon.”
Chloe nods for a long moment, her lips pursing, then squishing into a wiggly line, then spreading into a melancholy smile.
“What?” I ask, flopping a hand her way. “What does that smile medley mean, exactly?”
“It means I believe you,” Chloe says slowly. “And I hope everything goes exactly as planned.” She pauses before adding in a careful tone, “And I’m here for you any time you need to vent or cry, and I promise not to say I told you so.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Just tell me I can handle this, okay?”