Page 36 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“I don’t think so. He’s just protective.”
“Shall we show him he has nothing to worry about?” Atticus asked while wiggling his eyebrows.
“I think we shall,” I said just as Atticus pushed me out and then pulled me back in to only push me back out on the other side. I felt my feet fly across the ground as the music picked up and we switched from East Coast swing to the classic Lindy hop, my favorite.
With every step I tried to rub my legs together, to relieve the itch that kept building and building, but nothing was soothing the tickling; it was almost torturous, because even though I was having such a fantastic time with Atticus, I felt like I couldn’t truly enjoy it.
I was twisting low with my arm out to my side right when someone else grabbed my hand and pulled me into their chest and leading me up and down the dance floor.
“Henry,” I said breathlessly as he picked me up and tossed me over his back in one smooth motion, as if we hadn’t missed a beat. “What are you doing?”
“Having a little fun with my good-time gal.”
“I’m on a date,” I said as I passed him and then flew right into Atticus’s grasp.
He twirled me a couple of times and then started bouncing his feet and twirling around with me in circles while shifting our feet back and forth. He pushed me out and Henry grabbed my hand again.
I looked over at Atticus who was actually smiling, enjoying the back and forth.
“Hold on, love,” Henry said as he picked me up and tossed me in the air in a twist. I luckily landed on my feet and kicked my leg up to the beat. The minute my leg moved up, the itch that was eating away at me was slightly relieved from the friction of my leg against my panties.
Sweet Jesus, it was a little relief, but relief at that.
“Come here,” Atticus said as he pulled me away and picked me up, drove me to the ground so I slid under his legs, turned around quickly and picked me back up. At this point, the crowd had formed a circle and was hooting and hollering with every move the boys made. I was just the pawn in their little game, and to say I was getting dizzy was an understatement. I flung my arms and legs about as I kept up with the fast pace music, trying to concentrate on what was happening next.
“Time for the grand finale, love,” Henry said as he pulled me into his grasp and swung me around. He grabbed me by the waist, pulled me into him so my legs wrapped around his hips, and then he lifted me over his head. I flipped down his back, landing behind him so he could pull me between his legs and shoot me back up in front of him. The crowd around us cheered, and Henry spun me in circles while releasing my hand. I kicked my legs forward, not really paying attention to where I was going, relishing in the relief the movement provided for me . . . until my leg connected directly with something soft.
I looked up to find Atticus lying on the ground, holding his crotch and grimacing in pain. Oh sweet heavens . . . I realized what I did, not from the poor man in front of me, crouching in a fetal position, but because of the crowd’s collective “oof” as they watched me kick my date dead on in the nuts.
At that moment, I was pretty sure I would have taken the cocaine-looking mishap over the fallen man in front of me.
“Should have twisted instead of kicked,” Henry said next to me as he stood with his hands on his hips while we both looked down at Atticus.
“You think?” I asked sarcastically, hating myself.
June 5, 2018
Note to self: excessive amounts of baby powder can lead to a smoking vaginator if not applied properly. Also, one swift kick to the balls can end a date in point two seconds. Next time, keep all extremities to self and avoid the family jewels at all times. Also, possibly invest in multiple sizes of cups to hand out to dates just in case runaway legs get away from you again. Better safe than sorry and boy, was I sorry.
Chapter Seven
The Magnificent Pencil Holder
Embarrassment from last night kept me from rising early and working out like I normally did, instead, I rested in my bed, stared at my ceiling as Delaney’s kitchen singing floated under my door. It was waffle Saturday, and I could smell her homemade treats filter in to my bedroom, tempting me . . . but not enough for me to drag my sorry carcass out of bed.
Last night was so perfect. Atticus was a brilliant dance partner and a real joy to be with. He was cute, sweet, and had some really good moves. He didn’t mind dancing, which was always a turn-on, and the guy could smile to the point that I felt myself melting every time he sent it my direction.
I really thought we had something going for us until my leg spasmed and connected directly with his unsuspecting crotch. I watched in distress as Drew helped Atticus off the ground and escorted him out of the club while the poor guy crouched in a fetal position. I found out later that night from Jenny that Atticus lost his cookies outside of the club from the pain and was too embarrassed to come back in the club . . . and that was the end to my date.
A soft knock played at my door as Henry’s smooth voice flowed through.
“Rosie, come have breakfast, love.”
“I’m not moving from this bed,” I called out as I placed my pillow over my head.
Henry let himself in my bedroom and sat next to me. He pulled my pillow away and looked at me with soft eyes. He was shirtless, like usual on Saturday mornings, and was wearing a thin pair of grey sweatpants that sat low on his hips. His hair was messed and pushed to the side while there was a light five o’clock shadow gracing his jaw.
It was unfair to have such a hot roommate.
