Who ever thought being a virgin would hinder one’s professional responsibilities? Certainly not me.
I get up, earning a disgruntled squeak from Pickles, so I can pace the room. I take a swig of coffee before heading back to my bedroom to find a slightly warmer lounge set to wear for the day.
“It’s just a sex scene, Delilah,” I mutter to myself. “Maybe two. Or three.” I’ve read smutty books before. They’re fun. I know what’s expected. But somehowwritingthem feels like a whole new ballgame. Foreign and strange and somehow, even,lying?
I grab an oversized sweatshirt from my drawer, then some leggings.
But wait a minute, it’s not like I’ve ever battled fantasy creatures, solved a crime, or experienced life in 1920’s Paris. And writing aboutthosethings weren’t lies.
Fear spikes through me, and I crinkle my nose, shedding my pajamas before donning underwear and my outfit for the day. Maybe I should just email Jessica back and decline. Tell her it’s not for me. It’s not like there would be hard feelings; I’ve turned down projects in the past before.
But I think of the last few weeks, the follow-up emails I’ve made, the rearranging of my website, my email signature, my desk. At the looming rent payment due next week …
Yeah, it’s not like I have the luxury of passing up a project right now.
“You’re an adult, Delilah,” I tell myself, striding back out into the living space and taking a seat at my desk.
I may be an adult who has never had sex, but I’m an adult nonetheless. One who has bills to pay, a job to do, and who can just suck it up. Yeah, it’ll be a weird job. Sometimes jobs are weird.
I take another deep breath before hitting reply on Jessica’s email.
Looks great!I write.Send over the contract and timeline details. Excited to get started.
Before I can overthink it, I hit send.
Chapter two
Graham
“Don’t look so smug,” Madeline says from across the bedroom, shooting me a smirk as she refastens the hooks of her bra behind her.
I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “I’m not smug.”
She levels me with a look, her blue eyes narrowing.
“Hey, if you hadn’t been making those noises, I might not be looking like this,” I defend myself, sitting up in bed. “I personally don’t mind my roommate knowing how good I make you feel.”
She flings a pillow at me, and I chuckle, deflecting it. “I doubt he heard,” she mutters.
“Oh, heheard.” I smirk at her horrified expression while getting up to retrieve my boxers and sweatpants from the floor.
“Well, we’ll just have to go to my place next time, then,” she says, sauntering over to press a quick kiss to my lips before turning back to find her jeans and t-shirt.
Next time. I’m not normally anext timeguy. But, this is the third time I’ve seen Madeline. Not that I’mseeingMadeline.She’s fun. We met at a bar a few weeks ago and went home together. She gave me her number and told me to call if I ever wanted another fun night. So, I did. And then I did it again. I’ve never had an official friends with benefits relationship, but this kind of feels like the start to one.
I just don’t want her getting attached.
“This was fun,” Madeline says, pulling me from my thoughts as she grabs her purse off my nightstand. “See you around?” she asks.
I put on a smile. “See you around.”
I follow her out of my bedroom and into the living space of my apartment. I see her to the door, and it isn’t until I turn around that I realize my roommate is still up, standing in the dim light of the kitchen. He’s leaning against the counter, facing me, munching on some sort of midnight snack.
“Sounded fun,” Harrison mumbles through a smirk.
“Itwasfun,” I say with a shrug. I join him in the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to see what’s inside. A midnight snack isn’t a bad idea.
“God, I hope you get tested regularly,” Harrison comments.
