Teaching His Virgin

Chapter One

Britney

From my perch at Club Nova Rush where I can see everyone’s fashion choices, I’m playing my favorite guessing game about who people really are and how that is expressed in their clothing.

Yes, I am a fashion design major.

Clothing is my life.

As I glance around, I see my friend Melissa pressed up against the wall. She looks like a doe trying to escape a forest full of hunters. Unfortunately, she’s not dancing or visiting with any of the guys like our other friends are.

I can tell without even being in her head that she’s just counting the seconds until we leave. It’s sad. It’s her twenty-first birthday; she should be having fun.

I was hoping she would enjoy clubbing. As a fashion designer, I am always on the lookout for unique locations and unique events.

People dress differently at those kinds of things than they do anywhere else. They embody a new “self” when they go out like this, and I use that “new self” vibe to get new ideas for my work.

And I’m getting plenty right now.

I would be filling a whole design book full of them, but I didn’t bring one. So, I’m reduced to keeping some notes on my phone and taking some secret pictures of people, hoping that I’ve got enough to work with when I get back to the dorms at NYU.

I know that Melissa isn’t me, though. She isn’t the clubbing type of person, although five of us had dragged her out tonight to try to make sure she had some birthday fun. In particular, we’d dragged her into this club, even though she hadn’t wanted to come in.

Suddenly, a tall and ruggedly handsome man slides into the seat next to me. He flashes me a big smile before saying hello.

He’s hot and I feel my pulse race as I say hello back to him.

Suddenly, my throat feels dry.

I want to give him my attention, but Mel is on her way over. I’m pretty sure she wants to leave.

Maybe she could flirt with the guy who just sat next to me? That might cheer her up, maybe.

She stops about a foot from my seat and looks at me and the guy. A blush covers her cheeks, causing her to immediately look down at her feet.

“Britney.”

I can barely hear her over the music that’s blaring. Karen and Shay are there with her, presumably as backup.

“Um, Britney?”

She steps a little closer, deciding to grab the sleeve on my slinky dress.

“Britney, I’ve really got to get out of here. I can’t handle the noise.”

Letting out a breathy, amused laugh, I tell the guy that we’re all here for Mel’s twenty-first birthday. He smiles at her and offers to buy her a drink, but I already know she’s not going to bite.

“No. No, thank you,” she stammers, never looking up from the floor, and then pulls me out of my seat.

I shrug at the guy and let her hug me close.

“I really need to get out of here,” she continues. “I know you think this is a good time, but you know how I am!”

Pulling out my compact mirror, I sweep back my chestnut brown hair, making sure my lips are still cotton-candy pink, and sigh. I wave for our other friends to gather around us so that they can follow me out.

“I know,” I tell Mel as we leave.

What birthday girl wants, birthday girl gets. Even if it’s leaving a club that the rest of us were hoping would help her relax and celebrate and have a good time.

“Come on, girls.”

I’m quiet a moment as we find our way out of the bustle and then I say, “I do know, Mel. I was just…I was really hoping you might enjoy yourself in a place like this, even with how sensitive you are.”

We all keep walking out of the dance and lounge area, toward the main doors.

“But I don’t really know where else we can celebrate.”

“Yeah, especially when we did already drive a few hours to get here,” our friend Becky points out. “I mean, if you wanted to go somewhere quiet, we should have just stayed in our borough.”

I shoot Becky a warning glance, ready to create a fashion disaster for her.

Shay is the one who puts in the dirty work for me for now, though.

She elbows Becky, saying, “Don’t be mean, Becky. She really didn’t want to go in, but we made her. You, more than anyone else, actually, are the one who made her. So, you don’t get to complain when she does exactly what we all knew she would.”

Shay puts her arm around Mel.

“Don’t worry about it, girl. We will find something else to do. Somewhere else to go. I promise.”

“We’ll end up going home,” Becky says with a sigh after we have wandered down the street a bit and looked at the business signs.