Chapter 1
Peighton
“No. No, Harrison—stop.”
I catch his wrist just as his hand tries sliding farther up my thigh. My pulse leaps, half panic, half... embarrassment. “I’m not ready for that.”
He freezes like I’ve spoken a foreign language.
“Not ready?” he repeats, incredulous.
The lights are low. The movie he picked is basically soft-core. The vibe is unmistakable. My cheeks burn because suddenly it’s very obvious he invited me here for one reason, and it wasn’t the store-bought pasta we just ate.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m saving myself. For my husband.”
He blinks. Once. Twice.
“Wait... you’re serious?”
“Yep.”
“Like no sex, or noanything?”
I force a polite smile. “We can kiss.”
He stares at me, confused, so I add gently, “On the lips.”
“Oh.” His mouth twists. “Right. Until marriage.”
“Exactly.” I lighten my tone. “Do you want to get married someday?”
Harrison shrugs. “Sure. When I’m thirty.”
A small, hopeful swell forms in my chest. “The best things are worth waiting for, right?”
He nods, but his expression says the opposite.
“Waiting years for,” he mutters, then shakes his head entirely, like he’s clearing a bad thought.
“Peighton... come on. This is our third date. We get along great, but people don’t marry without having sex first. You can’t know if you’re compatible.”
His bluntness stings, I’m trying not to wince.
“I understand your point,” I say quietly, “but I believe when I meet the man I’m meant to marry, everything will fall into place. The love. The connection. The intimacy. It’ll just... work.”
“Good gawd, Peighton. This isn’t the 1800s. And aren’t you, like, twenty-five?”
I look down at my hands to conceal my growing insecurity. His tone is so careless and dismissive. It hurts more than it should.
“I’m twenty,” I correct softly. “And lots of people are virgins in their twenties. Is that a problem for you — me saving myself for marriage?”
He hesitates.
And that’s the answer.
“No, it’s... fine,” he lies.
The sour look in his eyes says everything he won’t say aloud.
