The Virgin Rule Book (Rules of Love #1) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,57
all knew how to make good choices.”
“So you’re saying I should tell my buds I fell off the wagon?”
Raj rolls his eyes, grabs his phone, and brandishes the shot from last night at me. “Do pictures lie, man? Switch to bicycle crunches stat.”
“Everyone has shown that to me,” I say, taking my phone from the floor, opening it, and shoving it at him before I shift to the new exercise. “Open my messages.”
He clicks on them, then cracks up, his hand flying to his belly. “Dude.”
“I know,” I say, rolling my eyes as I twist my elbow to my opposite knee, then the other, and so on.
Raj clears his throat, reading out loud. “From Grant at nine thirty: Dude. I know she didn’t steal your socks, your ring, or your car, but have you no self-control? From Chance at nine forty-five: Dude. Busted. From Holden at ten fifteen: Dude. Guess who’s admitting on TV that we’re better at the world’s greatest sport?”
Raj flops down on the mat. “Looks like you don’t need to confess, Cros. They figured you out.”
“From a picture. What the hell is so obvious about that pic?”
“Switch to side planks,” he says, studying the shot. “Oh, I see.”
“What is it?” I ask as I hold myself up on my right side, left arm straight up in the air.
“It’s the eyes,” he says, tapping on the phone, then showing me a close-up of my peepers. “Do you see it?”
“What am I looking for?”
“You look at her like you’re falling for her.”
I fall on my hip, slipping out of the plank, landing splat on my side with an oof.
Recovering quickly, I ask, “What are you talking about?”
As I pull myself up, he sits crisscross next to me then proceeds to explain in detail how my eyes give everything away.
“Huh,” I say, studying the picture, the way I’m gazing at Nadia, how my lips are crooked into a grin, how my hand is curled tightly around her waist.
Maybe I do look at her that way.
Maybe I am falling for her.
Holy fuck.
It’s like I just learned that a pitcher I’ve batted against for years is now throwing a knuckleball.
And I don’t know how to hit it.
The rest of the day, I try to figure out what the hell to do with this knuckleball of Nadia’s.
The situation gets worse when I stop by my mom’s café in the city to pick up dinner.
She hands me a paper bag full of food. “So how are you going to deal with the fact that everyone seems to think you have it bad for Eric’s sister?”
“Because of the photo?”
She laughs softly, shakes her head, and sits me down at a table. “It’s not because of a photo, sweetie.” She shoots me a knowing grin. “It’s because of years.”
23
Nadia
I pace my home.
Set my hand on my chest.
Breathe in, breathe out.
It’s T-minus one hour till . . . hymen send-off?
But no, that ship went bye-bye a long time ago. I mean, I don’t know for sure, but my family of little darlings and big darlings surely broke my maidenhead long ago.
Ugh.
Maidenhead.
Who says “maidenhead”?
Who says “hymen” for that matter?
But hey, maybe those ridiculous words will calm me down.
“Maidenhead, maidenhead, maidenhead,” I mutter, but still, the word repetition does nothing to settle the overdrive my body’s in.
My heart skitters.
It’s like a rabbit in my chest, racing in circles, frantically beating.
Settle down.
I flop down on my couch, drop my head into my hands, and try to breathe.
My lungs won’t fill.
My breath is short, sharp.
Nothing is working.
I’m going to jump out of my skin. And why?
Why am I so wound up?
I want this. I want him. I’m ready.
But tell that to my nerves that are jackhammering in my cells.
I head to the bathroom and turn on the tap for the tub. I planned to shower anyway, but maybe a bath is what I need.
A little relaxation session.
I strip out of my clothes, turn the temperature to hot, and toss in a tropical island bath bomb.
I close my eyes, letting the steam swirl around me as the marble tub fills. I step into the bath when it’s nearly full, dancing the oh-my-God-it’s-so-hot hula for a few seconds before I gingerly lower myself into the water.
And I burn.
I’m broiling.
Whose idea was it to make this so forking hot?
I stand, step out, grab a towel, and wrap the fluffy material around me.
I sneer at the cauldron.
Draining the tub, I head to the shower stall, turn the water to lukewarm, then take a shower.