Valentine's Day Virgin

“I want to show you off too,” he grins. “I’d prefer it if we went to a show or something, but this will have to do.”

Eric takes my hand and helps me step into the limo. The inside is huge and luxurious and I can’t help but wonder what kind of things we could do in here with this much space. But my blush gives me away.

“This would be much more comfortable, if you wanted to have a reprise of last night’s adventure.”

I smirk at him. “Party first, then we’ll see where it goes.”

Eric sighs dramatically, but he’s still smiling. That doesn’t keep me from noticing that he’s not really telling the truth.

“So are you going to tell me about the party?”

“What about it?”

I shrug, curling my knees up on the seat and turning to face him. “Why your sister needed to ask me to be your date. Why you need to bring a date at all. Anything else that I can expect to find.”

Eric looks uncomfortable. “It’s a long story.”

“I think we’ve got some time.”

“My mother just wants me to be happy. Unfortunately, she wants it to be on her terms and her timeline. If I showed up alone it would just make things worse, and things haven’t really been good for a while. So Bianca was trying to make life a little easier for everyone.”

“Why?” I ask. “What happened?”

He goes silent, and the atmosphere in the car changes, goes a little colder, a little sadder. “Sally, going to this party on a day that I hate is already difficult for me. I don’t want to get into other things that are equally as difficult.”

Yeah, that makes sense. Even if everything feels close, I have to remember that we don’t actually know each other that well yet. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It was out of line.”

“No,” he takes my hand and squeezes. “It’s fine to ask. I just can’t today.”

“I’m guessing that this has something to do with why you hate Valentine’s Day and everything to do with it?”

“It does, yeah.”

“Okay.” I pull myself closer to him on the seat. “I bet I could convince you to like this holiday as much as I do.”

A reluctant smile is pulled from his lips and there’s some light in his eyes. “How to you plan to do that?”

“Feminine wiles.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to explain in greater detail,” he says, sexy smirk returning as I distract him. I don’t like seeing him in pain, and whatever it is that’s made him hate today is clearly still an open wound.

“I mean,” I say, “that I’ll let you take me somewhere that has a bed, strip me down and teach me the ways of love.” I over-emphasize the word to make him laugh, and it works.

“That sounds more like the party I want to go to.”

I kiss him this time, climbing into his lap. I should care that this is going to wrinkle my dress or ruin my make-up, but I don’t. Eric’s hands are on my hips, pulling me down against him so I can feel exactly how he’s affected by me, and what’s more, how we might be connected if there were a few less layers of cloth between us.

He groans. “If this is the way things are going to go, I think I could be convinced to hate Valentine’s Day a little less.”

“Unfortunately, I think that we’re already at this party.” I can see out the window behind him and we’re pulling up to one of the most beautiful houses that I’ve ever seen.

I slip off his lap and quickly re-apply my lipstick while he sighs, head back against the seat. “Okay. Let's do this.”

The limo pulls up to the front of the house and Eric exits first. I take his hand and he helps me out, and I straighten my skirt. When I look up, I’m speechless. I thought I saw the house through the window, but that must have been just a part of it because what I’m standing in front of is a mansion. A real-life mansion that could swallow three of my apartment building and that’s just the front façade.

“Is this where you grew up?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Eric sounds a little sheepish. “It’s a lot. I know.”

“We had very different childhoods,” I say, laughing. Because this is ridiculous. I’m in a fairy tale and I love it. There are guys in perfect suits waiting to take my wrap and clutch and they greet Eric by name. By name I mean ‘Mr. Marshall.’

I’m a little surprised that they don’t announce us with titles like something out of a regency novel. But it still feels that way, because walking through the door into the massive foyer is like walking into a movie. Everything is decorated, dripping with hearts and Cupids and garlands in shades of reds and pinks and whites.

There’s a crystal chandelier overhead that’s casting rainbows over the room and I stretch out my arms, watching the changing light play over my skin. This is everything I’ve ever wanted for Valentine’s Day. It’s over the top and beautiful and perfect.

I look back at Eric, and he’s looking at me. Only at me. Nothing else. I know he hates this even if I don’t know why. But he’s trying. For me. For his family.

I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him, look up into his eyes and smile. “I know you’re not having a good time, but I wanted to tell you that I’m so happy to be here with you. And I’m going to have a good enough time for the both of us. Thank you for bringing me.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. “I’m going to try to have a good time with you.”

I grin. “I’ll do my best to help.”

Suddenly, from behind. “Eric, man, it’s been a long time. Hoping I was going to see you here.”

I turn to find a tall man around Eric’s age, red hair and a solid build. He reaches out and shakes Eric’s hand. “Andrew. Good to see you.”

“It’s been forever since you guys had one of these parties. I have to say, I’m glad you chose to have it on V-Day. There’s going to be plenty of pussy to score. You gonna be my wing man?”

I feel my jaw drop because that’s really not where I was expecting that to go. Also, the fact that he completely ignored the fact that I’m standing right here.

Eric freeze, tilts his head like he’s sizing Andrew up. Their hands are still locked in a handshake, and I see Eric’s grip tighten on Andrew’s hand. “Andrew, this is Sally, my date.”

Andrew looks at me and startles, as if I just magically appeared out of nowhere. “Oh. Hi.” He doesn’t shake my hand or look at me again. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then.” He quickly winks and walks away, and I think my mouth is still open in shock.

“He’s not the only reason I hate parties like this,” Eric says, “but he’s certainly one of them. You’ll probably run into a few other guys like him, we all went to the same school and most of them turned out like him. Don’t worry, I have no intention of seeing him later.”

I shake my head. “It’s too bad you don’t have a bouncer.”

“I’m sure my mother has hired somebody who could pass. If I see anything out of place, I’ll take care of it.”

“Good.”

And so we go on the rounds. We’re honestly just trying to make it to the refreshment table because neither of us have eaten, but we keep getting stopped by what feels like every person. Most of them are nice, and I meet some of Eric’s old friends and schoolmates who aren’t nearly as gross. Older ladies who are friends of his mother who are very sweet and who compliment my dress. All in all, everyone seems lovely.

Finally, we break through the crowd and I devour some of the finger sandwiches—which, like everything else in the house, are amazing—and grab a glass of champagne. “I haven’t seen Bianca yet,” I say to Eric, also sipping on champagne.

“She’ll be here. My sister is always punctual except for at parties. There, she likes to make a fashionably late entrance so everyone can appreciate her glory.”

“Only appropriate,” I say.