Page 50 of His Reckless Freshman

She nods, like she’s soaking in my words, then swallows, her eyes trained back on the glass. “I think I just need to find someone who can show me what to do, you know? Someone I can trust. Someone who makes me feel relaxed enough to give them that piece of myself. Someone who’s kind and patient and…” Her voice trails off, her fingers going still before her eyes dart to mine.

I gaze back at her, my forehead wrinkling.

What is she thinking right now?

Why is she⁠—

“Would you do it?” she whispers, looking like she’s just come up with the best idea but is also kind of freaked out that she just asked that.

My eyebrows dip together. “What do you mean?”

“Would you… show me? Like…” She leans in close and whispers, “Show me how to figure this all out?”

“Show you?” I’m starting to get what she’s saying, but my brain’s not willing to compute it fully yet.

This is weird.

Is she seriously asking me to… sleep with her?

Her expression crumples, and she tucks her hair behind both ears. It’s like a twitchy little habit, and she does it again just to prove my point. “It’s probably a dumb idea. I mean, it just popped into my head right now, and I shouldn’t have said it.” Her voice picks up, her nervous energy palpable as the words quickly tumble out of her. “I’m not trying to force you to sleep with me or anything, but you just seem to know a lot about this stuff and you’re very pro orgasms, which means you’ve no doubt had many of them, and I’m guessing you’ve given girls them as well. You’re nice, you know? You’re kind. It’s so obvious that you’re kind. And if I’m ever going to attempt this with anyone, I want to be more prepared next time. Maybe if you showed me… tutored me?… on what to do and how it all feels, then I’ll be more prepared next time. You know?”

She finally stops talking, and now her expectant gaze is on me. Two laser beams of hope that make me want to squirm in my seat.

“I…” Running a hand through my hair, I look across the diner for a second. It’s safer somehow. “Um… I⁠—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jolie cuts me off, then slumps back in her seat with a soft sigh. “You’ve probably got a girlfriend already, right? A guy like you is way too nice not to have one, and why would you want to show me how it all works? Why would you want to sleep with me?”

“I wouldn’t have to sleep with you to give you an orgasm.” The words pop out before I can stop them. “And I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“You don’t?” Her surprise is kind of endearing, especially when she clarifies, “You don’t have to actually… you know… to make me feel… well, you know?” Her cheeks flood with color, and I can’t help a soft laugh.

She’s kind of cute when she gets all flustered and embarrassed this way.

She’s not cute, and would you shut this shit down already? You do realize what she’s asking you to do, right?

Despite those warnings, I rest my arms on the table and lean in a little closer. “People can give each other highs just through touch. I mean, for what you’re wanting, a guy wouldn’t even have to take his clothes off. Or your clothes really, unless you wanted him to.” I suddenly cringe, wondering why the hell I’m continuing this conversation.

So end it, then!

Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat. “I’m sure you can find a guy to help you do that.”

“But not you.” Her lips dip into a frown.

And I’m forced to shake my head. I did say no girls this year, didn’t I?

But this isn’t you falling for a girl. This is you tutoring her so she can go out into the world with a little confidence.

I blink, wondering why my brain has suddenly switched to the other side of the argument. Didn’t I just tell myself to shut this shit down?

What the hell!

“That’s okay. I understand.” Jolie puffs out her cheeks, then blows out her breath. “I’ll just… I mean, I can probably… Someone might come along who can help me. Or just… I shouldn’t be doing this anyway.” Slumping back in her seat, she lets out this awkward laugh. “I shouldn’t be doing this. Sex isn’t something you experiment with, right? I shouldn’t even want to experience an orgasm. It’s not right. It’s⁠—”

“Jolie, stop.” I raise my hand and quiet her with a gentle smile. “You have every right to want this, and you shouldn’t feel bad. I just…”

And words suddenly fail me, because I don’t want to tell her that I’ve written off women because they keep hurting me.

It sounds so pathetic.