fifth favorite hobby. It’s definitely in the top ten.
“I already spent the week wishing I could take back all the things I said to you before.”
Ouch. “You regret being with me?”
“Not at all. I regret—” She gulps. “Asking for it.”
“Oh,” I say slowly, as that sinks in. It’s hard enough to want things. But it’s even harder if you feel ashamed for naming them. “That’s a tight spot you’re in, isn’t it?”
She gives a stiff little shrug, like it doesn’t matter. But it’s finally dawning on me that it really does.
“Okay.” I let out a big breath. “Okay.” I put an arm around her and pull her close to me. And I add a quick kiss on her temple for good measure. “Thank you for explaining that.”
She relaxes against me, and I feel like I can breathe again for the first time this week.
“I don’t mean to be so dramatic,” she murmurs.
“You aren’t. Neither of us likes drama very much, but sometimes it’s unavoidable.”
“But where do we go from here?”
“Well…” That is the trickier question. “First you have one more problem to solve. But then I hope you’ll come home with me. I need to spend a little time with you, and I can’t do that at your place.”
“Come home with you,” she repeats slowly. The air thickens between us. I swear her blue eyes darken as I watch.
“That’s right. It can just be for drinks and a snack. Or we can work on our other tutoring subject. But in my bed, this time. I like this idea a whole lot, but it’s still your choice. And—” I suddenly think of an innovation. “—since you prefer not to talk about certain subjects, you don’t have to. You can just give me a clue.”
“A clue?” she whispers so quietly that I almost can’t hear it.
“Yeah.” I remember Rickie telling me that Chastity prefers actions to words. “You don’t have to ask for tutoring. You don’t have to say a word. I’ll know you’re all in if you hand me your panties.”
“If I what?” she squeaks, her eyes blazing. We’re back in stare-down mode, and I love it.
“You heard me.” I run a finger down her cute little sloping nose. “If you want me to take you home and lift up that skirt, all you have to do is put the panties in my hand. Simplest thing ever.”
She blinks. “So now it’s your turn to throw down a challenge?”
“Apparently.” I give her a shrug, pretending to be casual even though all my blood has begun traveling south. We stare at each other for another long moment, and then I grin. “But don’t forget to do number thirty-two, first.”
She lets out a little squeak of irritation and then picks up her pencil.
I guess it’s really no surprise that problem thirty-two takes an excruciatingly long time. For both of us. She has to factor the equation three different times before she gets it right.
But eventually she solves the whole thing and throws down her pencil.
“Check your units,” I say mildly. Although my unit is as hard as a fence post right now.
She adds a dollar sign to the answer. Then she pushes back her chair, gets up, and leaves me sitting at the table.
The seconds drag by until Chastity returns a few minutes later, looking a little hesitant, her cheeks deeply flushed.
When I stand up to meet her, Chastity looks me right in the eye and then places a scrap of fabric in my hand.
“I just want you to know,” I say in a serious, quiet voice, “that I’ve never in my life prayed for underpants until just a moment ago.”
“I guess there’s a first time for everything,” she whispers back. “Now put those away before someone sees.”
Twenty-Eight
Chastity
As Dylan shoves my panties into his pocket, I’m thinking—I cannot believe I just did that. And I can’t believe he asked me to. It’s as if Dylan Shipley looked right into my dirty little heart and understood me for the first time.
It’s too good to be true. I don’t even know what to do next.
Dylan does, though. He grabs the gift bag off the table. “Hold this. I’ll carry your backpack.” He yanks that into his hands, shoving my algebra notebook inside and zipping everything up hastily.
He’s in a big hurry. My coat appears suddenly at my shoulders so that I can slip my arms inside. And then a strong arm wraps around my back, as Dylan leads us toward the exit.
“Don’t you have a coat?”