Tate shakes his head slowly, and now I feel bad, because he’s clearly trying to look anywhere else but at me.
“Not even a little bit?”
“No,” he whispers.
“Jeez, Tate,” I joke, not wanting him to feel awkward. “Consider yourself lucky. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
His smile is soft, his cheeks dimpling even, but I can tell from the etch between his brows that he’s starting to feel uneasy about the topic, so I move on.
Eyeing him pointedly, I say, “Never have I ever…had an alcoholic drink.”
Lifting the tiny wine bottle to my mouth, I drink the rest of the pinot grigio as I peek over my hand to see him cracking open the tequila. I half expect his face to construe a bit when he takes a sip, but it’s as smooth as ever.
“Never have I ever…had a friend with benefits.”
I’m not even looking at him as I open the mini vodka bottle, because of course I expect him to be drinking. The man has never been in love, so what else was there? But when my head falls back down from taking my sip, I see him blinking nervously at me through his glasses, and the amount in the tequila bottle hasn’t diminished even a fraction.
“Tate, if you’ve never been in love, then you’ve had to have had…” I trail off, the realization sinking in and sucking all the air from my lungs.
That’s so presumptuous of me. What the hell am I saying?
I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up monumentally.
Oh my God.
He’s never hadsex?
The last thing I ever want to do is make him feel uncomfortable, and judging by the red of his cheeks and the way he’s squirming like he doesn’t want to be here right now, I’ve failed. I feel like the biggest ass on the planet. He’s never going to look at me again after this.
I need to give him some space. I don’t want to put too much on him at once. I’m saying all the wrong things.
Patting my thighs, I push up from the floor as I wrap my arms around myself, glancing down at him as I scramble for words. “Hey, you know, some snacks would be really good with this. I think I’m gonna go down and grab some from the vending machines. Want anything?”
He shakes his head, not fully looking at me. “No, I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
Oh, fucking kill me now. Of course he’s sure.
His head nods once.
I’m scrambling out of the room as fast as my legs can take me because… Oh myGod. That must’ve been the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to him. He’s already a shy guy, and I just outed hisvirginitystill being intact during a fuckingdrinkinggame. Oh, God, and then I just left, like it was the most repulsive information I’ve ever received. I want to give him space, but as I’m barreling down the hallway, I know this has to look like anything but that.
Good job, Mae.
My brain can’t compute how it’s possible for someone as good-looking as he is to have never had sex before. He’s shy, yes, but he reaches like unfathomable levels of attractive.
I’m immediately shaking that thought from my head as I ran my clammy hands down my face, hurrying into the elevator as it glides open.
At twenty-two, maybe it’s a personal choice. That’s a completely reasonable explanation, one I’m not owed at all, but I could definitely see that being an option. It’s not even so much shocking as it is… Well, honestly, I’m jealous of him. This weird presumptuous judgement is stimming from jealousy, I know it is. He’s so lucky because he’s not tainted by the chaos that love and sex bring. He’s pure and innocent. Blind to it all.
Not that I even know how he feels about it, given I just up and ran away without talking to him…but still.
I’d give anything to feel like that.
CHAPTER EIGHT
TATUM
