I nod. Okay, I see the problem. But … “I don’t mean to be rude, Dee, but … why are you telling this tome?” I ask as gently as I can.
Her cheeks flush pink at this, and she takes another deep breath. “I’m telling you because … I thought maybe you’d—” she swallows, “—be willing to have sex with me so I’m not a virgin anymore and can write about it accurately.”
My mouth drops open, and I blink. Delilah … wants … me to …
And suddenly she’s standing again, rushing past me. “Of course you don’t—this was a terrible idea, and I’m sorry—”
“Delilah,” I murmur, reaching out to stop her again. This time, she doesn’t fight as hard. “Please sit down,” I beg.
She does as I ask, returning to her seat.
“You can’t be serious,” I start.
She widens her eyes at me. “You think I’d come all the way over here and humiliate myself like this if I wasn’t serious?”
I grimace. “Okay, maybe you are, but it’s not a good idea.”
I see the embarrassment wash over her as if it were a physical wave, and guilt knots my stomach.
“You don’t want to,” she says quietly, nodding in acceptance.
“No, I mean—” I stutter quickly. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that it’s not a good idea, like I said.”
She frowns slightly. “So youwouldwant to?”
Oh, fuck. “Uh, I mean …yeah, of course.”
“Then why won’t you?”
“Because, you’re …Delilah,” I stutter.
Something I can’t quite identify flashes in her eyes. “And I’m just a kid.”
My comment from last week flashes in my mind.You’re just a sweet kid. And suddenly her reaction starts to make sense. I’d called her a kid, not knowing this was obviously a sore spot, and now I’m making it worse.
I run a hand through my hair, flexing my jaw. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“It’s okay,” she says quietly. “Really. It was a crazy idea, and I shouldn’t have asked you.” She’s fiddling with a loose thread on her jeans, biting her lip. “I can find someone else—I mean, that’s what Tinder was made for, right?” She chuckles, but suddenly something strange and foreign twists in my gut.
“Someone else?” The words leave my lips before I can stop them, but Delilah is only half listening.
“Just, please promise that we can forget this whole conversation ever happened? How about I just came over, apologized for last week, and then went home? I didn’t even bring up my book, or sex, or—”
“You’re going to find some rando on Tinder to have sex with?” I say. “For the first time?”
She stops, blinks. “Well, yeah.”
I snort. “No. You’re not.”
Something akin to anger flares her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not getting on that creepy-as-fuck dating app to have sex witha stranger,” I clarify, my tone getting louder withevery word. Why this is hitting me so hard, I’m not totally sure, but I can’t exactly stop it.
“You’reon it. I’m sure you have sex with strangers all the time,” she snaps back.
“Yeah, but I—” I stop, just as Delilah widens her eyes. “How do you know I’m on it?”
She purses her lips then straightens. “I saw your profile.”
