"I didn't hook up with anyone."
She stares at me. Blinks. And then—she laughs.
Not polite, not a little huff of disbelief — a full, head-thrown-back laugh that's so real it almost knocks me backward. It's warm and wild, the kind of laugh that makes the edges of my chest ache because I've missed it so much.
And hell, if it doesn't set off a riot in my stomach, butterflies going berserk like they just got called up for playoffs.
When she finally calms, she wipes at the corners of her eyes, still grinning. "You really expect me to believe you've been—what?—a saint? A monk? Celibate for the past three years?"
"No," I say, voice dropping to something rough, the corner of my mouth twitching into a grin as I rake a hand through my hair.
I guess this is how my legendary rep dies —the guy who never left a party without a girl in his arms, who could make a girl come better than her boyfriend ever could, and who never got a single complaint about his... performance.
Fine. Let it die. If it means she sees me differently, it's worth it.
I stop right in front of her, close enough that the door presses cold against her back, and brace one palm beside her head.
My grin kicks up slow, cocky, just this side of wicked.
"Three years?" I echo, a laugh rumbling low in my chest. "That's cute, babe. Try my whole damn life. I've basically been practicing celibacy since birth."
Her lips part, her breath catching, her eyes searching mine like she's not sure she heard me right.
Good. Let her wonder. Let her sit with it.
Because any moment now, she's going to knowexactlywhat I meant.
And right on cue, her eyes go wide — comically wide — like I just dropped the world's biggest plot twist.
"What? You... you're still..." she stammers, then blurts in a whisper-shout, "A virgin?"
My finger landing lightly on her lips like punctuation. "Careful, babe. You want the entire house to hear you, or should we keep my lack of a body count between us?"
Her nose scrunches, her gaze darting anywhere but me, teeth catching on her bottom lip. "Well... sorry. It's just... kinda shocking," she mutters.
God, she looks so damn cute like that — cheeks pink, nose scrunched.
My lips curl, fighting to keep my grin from stretching wider. But hell, I can't help it. Her baffled little face is priceless, and I can tell I've got her. Really got her.
She peeks at me through her lashes, eyes narrowing as if she's trying to call my bluff. "I still don't believe that you're still," she says, voice so quiet it's almost swallowed by the music outside. Her throat bobs as she swallows, then she clears it and mumbles, "...a virgin."
The word sounds almost scandalous in her mouth.
If I told her the rest — that the reason I'm still a virgin is because I've been holding out for her, because I always wanted her to be my first — hell, I wanted us to beeach other'sfirst — would that make me sound pathetic?
Yeah. Probably.
And she might think I'm assuming too much. So, I swallow it back and just let her squirm a little longer.
She chews on her lip like she's thinking hard, then tilts her head at me. "Okay, then what about all the rumors? The girls in high school? I saw you with them, Zach."
I can't help it — I smirk. The fact that she's asking, that she even cares, sends this weird rush through me. Feels almost... normal. Like we're back to late-night drives, trading secrets like we used to.
"Most of it was for show," I admit, leaning back just enough to watch her reaction.
"For show?"
"Yeah." I drag a hand through my hair, sighing. "Back in high school, the guys were starting to talk. Tyler wouldn't shut up about how I'd never had a girlfriend, never went out with anyone. He straight-up asked me if I was gay — and it turned into this running joke that wouldn't die. And you know how high school is — once something sticks, it spreads."
