He stares at his glass and shakes his head. I can’t even begin to guess what he’s thinking. So I have to ask. “Is this a bad thing?” My heart crushes instantly at the thought. As much as Rose and I bicker and fight, I’d never want to ruin her relationship. Especially not with Connor, a guy who is pretty damn perfect for the girl.
He doesn’t say anything, and all my guilt suddenly morphs into anger.
“Hey, she’s a virgin, not a fucking leper.” I point a finger at him. “And if you dump her because of this then you’re a fucking prick. There are amillionguys who would gladly be with Rose. For whatever reason, you met her incredibly high standards, and if you hurt her because she’s not experienced, I swear to God, Connor, you are going to wish you never met me.” I finish my rant, surprising myself as much as Connor.
I’ve learned a lot about myself being sober.
I guess I’m kind of protective of Lily, Daisy, and even Rose.
“Lo,” he says my name like I’m five years old and just threw a tantrum. “I don’t care that she’s a virgin. I care that we’ve been dating for six months and she hasn’t told me. Obviously, I’ve overestimated the progress in our relationship.” His eyes flicker down to Rose as she sways tothe music beside Lily, and then he looks back to me. “And while I appreciate the sentiments behind that threat, it’s really unnecessary. I have no intention of hurting Rose.”
He pacifies me with a few sentences as if his words are liquid morphine, but I still feel obligated to defend Rose since I divulged her secret. “She likes you,” I say quickly. “She’s just...” She’s Rose. I don’t know how else to explain it.
“I know.”
Of course he does. He knows everything.
“When she was twenty, I had a suspicion that she lost her virginity to someone on her Academic Bowl team,” he opens up, sharing information that he usually keeps to himself. “She used to slide out of hugs, but she let him rest an arm around her shoulder. I even saw him kiss her in a hallway. She didn’t recoil.” He shakes his head, staring at Rose from faraway. “Turns out she was playing me.”
“What do you mean?”
“She knew I was watching. She knew that I could tell how inexperienced she was, so she stomached whatever revulsion she had towards male contact—just so I would form the idea that she was no longer a virgin.” He sips his wine. “I shouldn’t be surprised. She was never ashamed of it as a teenager, but whenever her virginity was brought up in front of me, she’d get defensive. I think she assumed I’d use it against her.”
He sounds more genuine than usual. I wonder if this is the real Connor Cobalt, a guy not saving face for investors or future contacts. Just him. “You knew Rose when she was a teenager?” I ask.
Connor sets down his empty wine glass. “Since she was fourteen. We both attended the circuit of academic conferences with our schools, Model UN, Beta Club, National Honor’s Society.” I feel like I hardly know him. We’ve been friends for months now. How could I not knowthis?“I’m a year older than her, by the way.”
“Wait, what?” I frown. “I thought you’re twenty-two.”
“Twenty-three.”
“Were you held back as a kid or something?”
“Fifth year senior,” he says. “I triple majored, so I had to stay an extra year at Penn to finish my courses.” He keeps his gaze on Rose.
“Why haven’t you told me this before?”
“You never asked. And really, is it that important?” I’m beginning to think that Connor Cobalt only lets people into his life halfway. Maybe he’s more like us than I believed.
We drop the subject as Ryke returns from the bathroom. Melissa rejoins the girls on the dance floor, which she wasn’t willing to do when we first arrived. She was clinging to Ryke pretty fiercely, so I assume Ryke went down on her in the toilet stall. She seems appeased at least.
I want to change the topic off of Rose’s sex life, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. “What kind of a name is Ryke?”
He sinks into the seat beside mine, a can of Fizz Life in his hand that I’m pretty positive doesn’t have any alcohol in it.
“It’s a middle name,” he says like I don’t know. But last year at the Christmas Charity Gala, when he admitted to being my brother, I made him show me his driver’s license.Jonathan Ryke Meadows.
“What kind of amiddlename is Ryke?” I clarify.
He lets out an aggravated noise. “What the fuck did Jonathan give you as a middle name?”
“I don’t have one. I think he realized sticking me with Loren was torture enough.” My name was the target for teasing in elementary school, despite the guy-version spelling.
“Ryke,” Connor muses. “From Middle English, a variant of the word would meanpowerorempire. Though, your spelling is a little off.”
“Yeah, my father is an egotistical douchebag,” he says roughly. “My name literally means Jonathan empire.”
I can’t help but laugh into my next sip of water. For the first time, mine doesn’t seem so bad.
