“I understand that, my dear, but do you want to risk not following through? Not seeing where things might go with Harrison? He’s a great man.”
“I know he is… but what about the man you matched me with? This isn’t fair to him, is it?”
Rita tsks. “You let me worry about that.”
I’m not sure that I feel any better after my talk with Rita. The one thing I do know she’s right about is that Harrison is worth it. Even if it ends with me broken-hearted. No risk, no gain.
Right?
I look up from my computer when there’s a quick knock at my door. I don’t bother getting up because a few seconds later, Zoe lets herself in.
“Hey, babe!” she says, making herself at home by pouring herself a glass of wine.
“Hey yourself.”
“How’s it going?” she asks, indicating the open laptop in front of me.
“Really good. The words are flowing again.”
“Awesome! So glad you’re out of that slump. I was worried you were going to turn into a sad sack on me.”
I shove her arm at her teasing. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“You were. But enough about that… tell me does Mr. Hottie have anything to do with your newfound inspiration?”
I give her a hard look, not wanting to admit to anything, but of course, she’s my best friend and knows me better than I know myself more often than not.
“It is because of Harrison. Tell me everything,” she demands.
Part of me balks at the idea of telling anyone about our relationship—if that’s what it even is. It feels too new and unstable. Maybe I’d feel better if I knew exactly where we stood, but that’s not the case, and I’m not sure it ever will be with a man like him.
“We went out to dinner, and then last night he cooked for me,” I tell her, starting with the easy stuff.
“You were at his house?” she asks, shocked.
“Yes. He lives in an absolutely amazing penthouse. You should see it.”
“Fuck the penthouse. I want to know what happened in the penthouse.”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. I debate on how much I want to tell her, then decide to go for broke. Maybe she’ll have some insight into things. She’s way more experienced with men than I am.
“Well, after dinner, we watched a movie… at least part of a movie. We sort of made out…” I giggle, embarrassed. “That led to… more.”
Zoe’s eyes widen, and she grins like a mad woman. “Did you have sex?!”
I shake my head, reaching for my glass of wine and taking a fortifying gulp. “No, but there were definitely orgasms involved.”
“But no sex? Why not?”
I shrug. “I was ready to… we were going to, but then I told him I’m a virgin, and he changed his mind. He said I deserve better…”
Zoe winces. “Oh girl…”
“What?”
“Either he doesn’t want to take your virginity because he’s noble or because he doesn’t want to risk you getting attached. I can only take a guess that any man who doles out orgasms on a second date is anything less than noble.”
I don’t correct her that last night wasn’t the first night he gave me an orgasm… that, in fact, he gave me one in a very public elevator before we even exchanged more than a few words between us. That definitely doesn’t scream nobility. Not at all.
