“A favor?” Her cheeks turn a violent shade of red and she pokes me in the chest. “Taking away a woman’s agency isnotdoing her a favor. If I want to sleep with every fuckboy on campus, that’s my prerogative.”
Sonofabitch.
She’s right.
And if I’d just minded my own damn business, I’d be balls deep inside a woman who appreciates my finer qualities instead of arguing with one who clearly thinks I’m a complete jackass.
“You’re right.” I throw up my hands, hoping to defuse the situation before she bursts a blood vessel. “Your body. Your choice. The thing is, I couldn’t look your brother in the face if I let you hook up with Zac. The guy’s a walking STD.”
“Oh. My. God.” She wheels around and stalks toward the house, boots sinking into the grass. “I’m going to die a virgin because of freaking bro code. How is this even my life?”
Holy. Shit.
I’ve heard a lot of wild stuff in the locker room and on the field, but this? Not gonna lie. I’m intrigued.
I’m across the lawn and at her side in three quick strides. “Please tell me you weren’t seriously going to give that douche your v-card. At a frat party.”
She freezes, and I angle my body in front of her, cutting off her path.
“No judgment,” I add, flashing my trademark smile.Hasn’t failed me yet. “I lost my virginity at a house party when I was fifteen.”
“Your point?”
I shrug, searching for the right words. Or at least ones that won’t earn me another tongue lashing. “I’m just surprised.”
“That I’m a virgin?” Her eyes narrow to slits. I’ve said the wrong thing.Again. “I realize a nineteen-year-old virgin may seem like an oddity to you, but I assure you, we aren’t exactly unicorns. Not all of us can be sexual savants like—”
“I just meant...” Warmth creeps up the back of my neck, and I know without a doubt that my ears are now the color of Quinn’s hair. Which is ridiculous because since when do I get flustered? I’m the king of casual sex. You want dirty talk? I’m your guy. A threesome? I’m in. Orgasms for days? No one does it better. “I mean, don’t most girls want it to be special?”
My mouth snaps shut the instant the words are out.
Maybe I had more whiskey than I thought becausewhat the actual fuck am I saying?
“I just want to get it over with.” Quinn sighs and sweeps her hair over her shoulder, revealing a swath of creamy skin that’s damn near iridescent in the moonlight. “Preferably before I die.”
“Dramatic much?” I quirk a brow and give her a blatant once over. She’s not old enough to buy her own beer, let alone worry about dying a virgin.
Plus, she’s hot.
Not that I’m looking, because... rule number two. It’s just that she’s got these striking green eyes—like old Coke bottles—and that fiery red-orange hair spilling over her shoulder in soft waves.
If I didn’t know she was related to Noah, I’d never believe it. Noah Mowery is your basic frat bro with collared shirts, too much product in his hair, and totally average features.
The only average thing about Quinn is her height.
“I prefer the term realist,” she shoots back. “Seriously. I’m the girl who should’ve come with a warning label and a lifetime supply of bubble wrap.”
“Bubble wrap?” What the hell does bubble wrap have to do with getting laid?
“It’s just...” She lifts her chin and looks me dead in the eye. “I have terrible luck. Like, if it can go wrong, it will. Epically.”
Oh-kay.
“Yeah.” I hook my thumbs in my pockets and shake my head. “Still not following.”
She shoots me a look that hasshockerwritten all over it, because like everyone else, she thinks I’m a dumb jock.
Joke’s on her. I’ve got a 3.8 GPA.
