She hadn’tmeantto say that. She really, really hadn’t.
Except . . . she had been feeling this frustration. Desperation. A need to make him . . . see her differently.
Yeah, and him knowing you’re a latter-day virgin is really going to lift that veil. Really going to make you seem cool and edgy and sexy . . .
She focused on her burger. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to throw that at you. I . . . things just come out of my mouth sometimes and . . .” She took another bite of her burger. “This is great,” she said, talking around the mouthful.
He was just looking at her and not saying anything.
“Are you . . . do you have someone in mind?” he asked, finally, sounding as if he had a piece of hamburger lodged in his throat.
You.
She didn’t say that. “Not . . . no.” She finished her hamburger faster than any other human had ever finished one and slid out of her chair. “I need to go. I just realized it’s late and I have an early start tomorrow. Well, every day because animals don’t sleep in just because you want them to!”
She smiled and pushed her chair in.
He looked a little confused but didn’t stop her. “Okay. See you later.”
“Yeah. See you.”
When she got out to her car, she sat in the driver’s seat and pressed her forehead to the steering wheel for two solid minutes, replaying the stupidity of what she’d just said.
But by the time she got home, she’d started rationalizing, and when she tucked herself into bed she was almost calm.
Because she’d known Remington Lane for most of her life, and one cringeworthy moment wasn’t going to expose her entirely to him. That confession was something she could almost tell her brother (she wouldn’t, but she could see a scenario where it could have come up and she might have) and Remy was . . . like a brother.
In his mind.
He didn’t know she thought of him the way she did.
And he never had to.
She hadn’t exposed herself. She hadn’t changed anything at all.
Remy was focused on Hank. As he should be.
She repeated that mantra in her head until she fell asleep.
Chapter 7
The trouble was, Remy couldn’t get what she’d said out of his head.
But it mingled with the images of her, wet and in his arms, in the shower. What a foolish, idiotic, stupid move he’d made, pulling her in and . . .
She was a virgin.
He’d seen her bra.
He’d felt her shape pressed all up against him when he’d . . .
God Almighty.
He was trying. He had plenty to do. Animals to feed, and he was working on a new game, which gave him a packed schedule for pretty much every hour of the day that he was awake.
But he kept replaying it, over and over again.
I need to lose my virginity.
