He pulls me off the counter while Rain snickers, and he starts calling out goodbyes to the group.
“You’re leaving?” Maverick asks in shock. “It’s not even halftime yet!”
“I’ve got it recording. I’ll watch it later.”
I duck my head when catcalls emerge, and Wren flips them off even as he smiles. His arm comes around my shoulders, and I lean against him. I doubt I’ll ever get enough of him. But I really hope he doesn’t get bored with me. He might not have gotten jealous over Erica, but he did spend years with her for a reason.
There’s only one reason I can think of.
Chapter 29
ALLIE
“Where’s Wren?” Bella asks as I nervously meet her in the kitchen.
I’ve been trying to ask her a question for two days, but I can’t seem to bring myself to do it. Ever since the Super Bowl, I’ve been working hard to summon up the courage.
“He and Dane took Carrie and Angel to the batting cages after school today. They won’t be back for another hour.”
Her eyes find mine as she puts down her smoothie, and she studies me.
“Uh-oh,” she says, eyeing me curiously. “What’s wrong?”
Now or never.
“Wren spent years with Erica, right? I mean, this thing between us is still really new. What if he gets bored?”
Maybe that’s enough for her to take the hint. She waves me off as though I’m overanalyzing things, though, clearly not picking up on my subtlety.
“Wren’s crazy about you. Stop worrying and enjoy it. Or send him to me. I swear that guy gets hotter every time he comes over. I almost hate him every time he takes off his shirt. I mean, seriously, can’t you make him keep his shirt on?”
That’s to taunt me into telling Angel about us. He keeps trying to tempt me into losing control and touching him. He wants us to be able to cuddle on the sofa with her in our laps, as opposed to me working hard—very hard—to stay far away.
“Bella,” I groan, feeling my face turn red, “I mean… bored. You know?”
She studies me, and finally recognition sparks. “Ohh. Oh. I get it. So you want to spice things up already? Bondage or something?”
My eyes widen, and my dream pops into my head. Quickly, I shake my head. “No. I just… there are things I don’t really know how to do. Christ, I sound like a virgin on prom night. I’m talking about… Well, you know how my dating life is. I date a guy for a few weeks, and if I find a sexual spark, we eventually sleep together—well, we have sex. Wren is sadly the first guy I’ve actually slept with.”
She nods, already knowing that, so I continue, choking the words out.
“The longest I’ve dated anyone was Ted. It was a seven month relationship. And… I never really wanted to do that thing for him. I’d see him when I could, and he’d travel a lot. We said we were monogamous, but I didn’t know if he was really keeping it in his pants when he was out of town, so I couldn’t do that. I worried where that thing had been, and I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do it with a condom on. That sounds gross.”
Her eyebrows go up, confusion on her face. But then a slow smile spreads. “That thing? You mean a blowjob? No, condoms aren’t used in blowjobs. I agree it would taste gross.”
I almost feel relieved that I don’t have to say it aloud. No, that does not make me immature, dammit. Just… awkward. Very awkward.
“Yes. That. I only had sex when there was an itch to scratch with the few others I dated. It’s not like there was a whole lot of scratching going on other than those seven months. And obviously I didn’t want to do that with any of the rest if I wouldn’t do it with Ted. So… I don’t know what the hell to do, and I don’t want to look like an idiot.”
She laughs, and I glare at her. She smothers it quickly while apologizing insincerely. My gaze turns expectant, and she gulps a sip of her smoothie down harshly.
“What? You want me to teach you or something?” she asks incredulously.
“I can’t ask anyone else, Bella. You’re just like the sister I should have had. Of course I’m asking you to teach me. You have more experience than I do.”
She laughs again while putting her smoothie down.
“I think that’s the nicest way anyone has ever called me a slut.”
A grin breaks across my face. “I didn’t call you a slut. You know that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a slut. No slut bashing in this house,” she playfully adds.
She grabs two bananas from the bar, and tosses me one. My eyebrows go up when I realize this is going to be a visual demonstration instead of a verbal how-to.