Page 43 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice breaking.
His brow creased as he considered his offer, almost as he not only surprised himself, but me as well. He cleared his throat and stood up, putting distance between us, allowing himself to pace the length of my room in a few strides.
“Uh, never mind.” He shook his head as if what he was about to say was crazy. Unsure of what to do, he stumbled a bit and said, “I have to go, but make sure you say bye to me before your date tonight. I want to wish you good luck.”
With that, Henry left my room, leaving me completely and utterly confused. Did he just offer to show me everything, as in, have sex with me? It must have been a fleeting idea because not but a second after the words flew out of his mouth, it felt like he wanted to retract them immediately.
The thought of Henry being a cherry chaser kept running through my head.Thanks Delaney.There was no way he was a cherry chaser, and even if he were, he wouldn’t want to be with me just because I was a virgin. He wouldn’t want to ruin our friendship like that . . . it was impossible.
Right?
I shook the crazy notion from my head. There were still so many messages to comb through, but I felt setting up a date with Alejandro was enough for now. I went back to my bed where I pulled my Kindle off my nightstand and started reading about the magnificent pencil holder and her kinky man.
Chapter Eight
The North Star
“I’m telling you, I’m terrible at bowling.” I laughed as Lance and I both stared up at the TV that displayed our scores. I was bringing in a measly fifty-two while Lance was bowling a one eighty, which was impressive to me.
“At least you look adorable doing it.” Lance pinched my chin, making me melt in place.
I was nervous coming into this date because I honestly didn’t know what to expect. I had only met Lance once before and we’d barely talked, so to see this fun side of him was different and intriguing.
We met at the bowling alley, and I was instantly intimidated to see he was with four of his friends who were all dressed up for cosmic bowling, thankfully, since I wore my tight white shirt, jeans, and neon-green bra. I fit in with the crowd, perfectly actually, but outside of the bowling alley, I looked like a teenager who spent their spare time hanging out by the light post of the local gas station. Real classy, top notch.
Lance loved my outfit though, and I had to admit he looked beyond handsome in his dark jeans and white V-neck shirt. It was simple, yet classic.
“Want to take a break?” Lance asked as his hand found the small of my back.
“That might be a good idea. My thumb is starting to hurt.”
“Aw, you have bowler’s thumb.” Lance grabbed my thumb and brought it to his lips where he lightly kissed it.
Oh my.
At that moment, I felt like one of those cartoon characters that started floating in the air while their legs kicked about and hearts sprouted from their heads. A little kiss on the thumb from Lance had me wanting to dance around and fist-bump anyone with a hand.
I hated that I was so caught up in the little things that a small gesture from a man had me shaking and quaking in my shoes, but I’d never been romanced. I’d never really gone on dates or put myself out there, so it was gratifying to know I could attract male attention.Even hot men. Without needing to change who I am.I rather enjoyedthat.
Lance grabbed my hand, entwined our fingers, and led me to the bowling alley bar where he helped me onto the barstool. I wasn’t someone who frequented bowling alleys very often, but a bowling alley in the city was much different than one in a smaller town. It was fancy and kind of posh with white leather seating and exposed brick.
Luckily, Lance gave me a heads-up that usually the bowling alley had a strict dress code, but once a month they had cosmic bowling night and encouraged bowlers to wear fun colors and white shirts to add to the atmosphere, otherwise, there was a no athletic wear and white-shirt policy. When did bowling alleys become judgmental snobs of a white shirt? Hello, have they seen the classic bowling shirt? Uh, tacky.
“What can I get you?” he asked while calling the bartender over to us.
“Um, how about a margarita? Can they make one of those?”
“I’m sure they can.” When the bartender came over, Lance grabbed my hand and said, “Margarita on the rocks for this little lady and a Stella on tap for me, thanks.”
“Big beer drinker?” I asked, trying to make conversation.
“Love beer. Different craft beers are my favorite. I love traveling around and finding local breweries, little holes in the wall where they make their own brews. I’ve had some pretty stellar beers from local breweries”—he crinkled his nose and continued—“and I’ve had some donkey piss too.”
A genuine laugh escaped me from the look on his face. “Oh no, that bad?”
He nodded as the bartender set our drinks in front of us. Lance grabbed his beer and took a swig while turning in his seat to face me better.
“I was in Milwaukee for a sailing boat photo shoot during the summer—”
