“In like…love lessons?” Cameron asks.
Ian laughs. “I guess so.”
“Then yeah, man, sign me up. I clearly wasn’t doing it right the first time.”
“I don’t want love lessons,” Jess says, still typing away with her gaze fixed on her laptop screen. “But seduction lessons would be great. I’d like to get my first time out of the way before I worry about adding love to the mix. I figure the sex part by itself will be stressful enough.”
My jaw drops, but I snap my mouth closed before Jess looks up.
As shocking as it is to hear my proud computer nerd and homebody of a friend ask for seduction lessons, I’m proud of her for having the courage to ask for what she wants.
As far as what I want, however…
Chapter 6
Evie
“What about you, Evie?” Ian asks as if he’s read my mind, a tenderness in his voice that wasn’t there before. “I know it might be weird to talk to a big-brother type about dating and sex stuff but I’m here if you need me. And I’m not actually a blood relation, so…”
“I know you’re not,” I say, suddenly uncomfortable with this conversation.
I absolutely know he’s not a blood relation. The entire time I was shouting at Vince about my “urges,” I was simultaneously experiencing urges related to how good it felt to be on Ian’s back, with his strong hands cradling my thighs.
If there was any doubt about it before, there isn’t now—Ian makes me tingle in a way no other man ever has.
But Ian wants to help me hook up with another man. He has zero interest in me sexually. Not to mention the fact that Derrick would probably kill me if he thought I had a crush on his best friend and would definitely kill Ian if he were in fact interested in me in that way.
But he’s not. And he won’t ever be.
I’m just little Evie from the neighborhood, the kid he used to help wipe ice cream off her face when she was in second grade. That’s how he’ll always see me, no matter how old I am or how much I grow and change.
You don’t know that, doofus, the inner voice pops up, sounding more irritable than usual. Probably because I tried to drown her in cherry-flavored whiskey. Ugh. I’m never drinking whiskey again. Never, ever, ever. How much have you really changed? You still dress like a little kid, defer to Dad and Derrick like when you were a kid, and sit around with your thumb up your ass waiting for other people to give you permission to do the things you want to do. You also have the tolerance of a ten-year-old. Remember that the next time you try to give me permanent brain damage and stop after one drink.
I frown. Some of that is true, but not all of it. I don’t wait for other people to give me permission to do things, and I certainly don’t have my thumb up my ass while I do it.
Oh yeah? Then why not go for this with Ian? Take him up on his “romance lessons,” see if you can learn a thing or two. And if you happen to test his methods on the man himself… Well, who could blame you? After all, he did say he and Whitney were over…
My mouth goes dry, and my head starts to pound again.
I can’t do that…can I?
Ian would see right through me. And then he’d run away. Or, worse, laugh. Or, even worse, let me down easy with that warm, gentle, “big brotherly” look that’s on his face right now.
Just the thought of that is enough to make me want to dissolve into a million microscopic beads and roll between the couch cushions, never to be found again.
Coward.
I wrinkle my nose. I’m not a coward.
Then say yes. At least give it a shot. Even if you don’t have the guts to go after the guy you really want, Ian should be able to help you find someone better than Vince.
I chew my bottom lip. The inner voice has a point.
And what do I have to lose? Nights alone in the apartment while Harlow studies late and Cameron and Jess hit the town with Ian, learning how to be Dating All-Stars?
“Okay,” I finally say. “I’m game. On one condition—we don’t tell Derrick. He’s already going to be angry when he finds out what happened tonight. I don’t want him all up in my business, hovering and fretting and being weird while I’m trying to learn how to pull tail.”
Cameron cocks his head. “I think that slang is gender specific. Like, men pull female tail and women pull…something else.”
“Really?” I ask. “Are you sure?”
“Um, no. I’m not.” He hands Ian two plates with a laugh. “Are you sure you want to take the three of us on? You’re going to have your work cut out for you.”