“Can take care of themselves.”
“What you said earlier?—”
“I can change my mind. We have the rest of the year.”
“You think I’ll watch you with other girls, then accept being yours after you’ve hooked up with them?” Unbelievable. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. Other girls might, but I won’t.”
“You’re asking for a lot.”
“I’m asking for what I deserve.” It’s not too much. I know it isn’t. I’ve met Malice’s and Seven’s parents. They’re still madly in love with their spouses. I want the same. “Don’t set me up to fail, Trace,” I implore. “Teach me, then let me fly.”
“Big cities are dangerous.”
I laugh without humor. “And you aren’t, toying with girls’ hearts?”
“I make it clear the sex is casual.”
“It doesn’t make it hurt any less when they fall for you.” I hold the shield over my heart with all my strength. It’s the only way I’ll stop myself from falling for Trace.
I want to prove him wrong. I want him to stop it with the hookups. I want to be the girl who wins over his heart, for good. But I don’t have the kind of experience the other girls have. I can hardly talk to a boy without being scared or nervous. Now, here I am with one of the most sought-after guys in our school.
He sighs. “A guy will snap up a beautiful girl like you before you have the chance to get to know other guys and what you like and don’t like. Don’t settle for the first guy who shows you attention, Sorrow.”
I don’t hear anything past beautiful.
“I’m beautiful?”
“Hell yeah you are,” he grumbles.
“Don’t be so unhappy about telling me,” I tease. “And thanks for your vote of confidence.” No one, including my parents, has ever said I was beautiful. I grab his cap and put it on, pulling the bill low. I’m tired of the tension between us with all this talk of boyfriend-girlfriend, commitment, and options.
He grabs it back and plants it on his head.
“Hey, my head’s cold. Give it back.”
He does, and I’m lost to the warmth in my chest when he edges me away from him and gives me a crooked smile that has my heart pitter-pattering. “What?” My hand shoots to my head. “Do I look weird with it on?”
“Nah. You look good wearing my ball cap. Keep it.”
Flicking his finger on the bill, he brings the edges of the blanket together until the flannel softness cocoons us. “How far should we go with the physical part of the experiment?”
“You decide,” I say.
“Uh-uh. This is your experiment.”
“Our experiment,” I clarify again.
“Not with the physical part. You tell me what I can and can’t do, and how far you’re willing to go. This is about you.”
“I’m not sure what I want,” I admit. “Other than we can’t go all the way. I am keeping my V-card,” I declare.
“I can go along with that. With everything else, how about we do what feels right to you? I would never pressure you to do something you’re uncomfortable doing.”
That’s the problem. “But if I don’t, you’ll find a girl who will.” My stupid insecurities return. I’m cold one minute and hot the next. Trace’s head must be spinning in confusion.
“Why do you care so much?” He grasps my chin and pulls me closer until his eyes are all I see.
With the darkness behind him, Trace looks menacing with his glare. He’s gone from speaking to me as if I’m the most important person in his life to acting like I’m a nobody begging for his attention.
