“Word got out that we left the bar together last night, and now the whole town thinks we hooked up—including your sister.” I stay perfectly still, holding my breath for his reply.
He runs a hand over his stubbled jawline, contemplating the information before giving a small shrug. “And?”
I let out an exasperated exhale, set my fork down, and turn to face him. “This is serious. I woke up to a bunch of messages in the group chat asking if we slept together, and I’m not sure how to respond.”
“Let’s get one thing straight.” His eyes lock on mine. “If we’d actually done what everyone thinks, sleep would have been the last thing on our minds.” I gulp, my heart hammering in my chest, unable to stop myself from picturing all the possibilities he’s hinting at.
I shake my head, forcing those thoughts aside. “Your sister thinks we hooked up, and I doubt she’ll believe me if I tell her otherwise when she finds out you spent the night.”
I’m certain she or Charlie has already called Earl and confirmed he didn’t bring me home. Plus, Mrs. Bixby will absolutely investigate when she spots the extra truck in my driveway. She doesn’t miss the chance to stir up gossip, and soon everyone will know Walker was here.
Walker blows out a breath, raking a hand through his hair. “How much of what happened at the bar do you remember?”
I wish he’d tell me where he was going with this question so I could plan my response better. I’m tempted to claim it’s all still a blur and hope he never brings it up again, but I can’t bring myself to lie about this.
“I think most everything, why?”
He nods slowly. “Good. Do you recall asking me to teach you?”
I recall fragments of that conversation, including the part I assume he’s referring to, but I’d rather not confirm it.
“Teach me what?” I ask, feigning innocence.
He scoots his chair closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “You asked me to take your virginity. To be your first, and to teach you how to flirt.”
“I might recall,” I say, my voice coming out hoarse.
“What would you think if I were to suggest we make that a reality?”
I blink rapidly. “Are you saying we should have sex?”
He clears his throat. “I’m proposing we give you what you want in a safe and controlled setting.”
I instinctively lean forward, the draw to him magnetic. “And what is it you think I want, Walker?”
The question hangs in the air as he mirrors my posture, until our knees are touching and our faces are only inches apart. His warm breath grazes my cheek, and my pulse kicks into overdrive, heat pooling low in my stomach.
“To learn how to flirt and fuck. At least that’s what you told me last night,” he states bluntly. “If we pretend we’re a couple, I don’t see why we can’t do both.”
I stare at him, holding my hand up. “Wait… are you suggesting a fake relationship?” The words feel foreign on my tongue.
He gently grips my knee, sending a shiver down my spine. “Yes, I am. If you let me teach you, we’ll be spending a lot of time together, so why not use the perfect alibi and pretend we’re a couple? Seems like everyone already assumes we’re heading in that direction anyway. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
I’m too shell-shocked to scold him for using a metaphor that promotes poultry violence.
It’s official—my brain has short-circuited because there’s no chance Walker Halstead just suggested we pretend to dateandsleep together. His type is women who are bold, sexy, and confident—everything I’m not.
“Two birds, one stone,” I repeat softly, letting the concept sink in. “I thought you didn’t date,” I blurt out after a few seconds.
“There’s a first time for everything. Makes it more believable that I’m so smitten you’re the first woman to tie me down. You can even stage a big breakup when it’s all over and publicly hurl insults at me.”
As scandalized as I want to be by his proposal, it’s no more reckless than walking into a bar prepared to go home with the first guy who showed me any interest. At least with Walker, I know he’d respect my boundaries and treat me right.
Truth be told, there’s no one more qualified to teach me how to flirt and to practice being intimate. I’m both terrified and intrigued, unsure how I would survive his lessons without blushing myself into oblivion.
I straighten in my seat, meeting his gaze. “If I’m going to consider your offer, I have conditions.”
“I love a woman who takes charge.” He smirks. “Lay them on me.”
