Biker's Virgin

“He’s a looker, huh?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” I said. “He’s got that careless handsome ruggedness about him. And even better… he’s actually fun to talk to. I mean he can actually hold a conversation. How rare is it to find a man who’s hot and smart?”

“Rare,” Marta agreed. “Trust me; I’m still looking.”

I finished my work a little earlier than usual, and so I decided to make a few calculations to see where I was at and how far I would need to go in order to make my future plans possible again. When Brent had agreed to let me stay with him, I had insisted that I would contribute to the rent once I found a job. He had told me that wasn’t necessary, but he hadn’t insisted too hard, and I felt obligated to make the offer and keep to it.

Now that I had landed a job, I was contributing four hundred dollars towards the rent, and I had to factor in another hundred dollars for other general expenses for the month. That meant I was left with about a hundred dollars to put in my savings account. My calculations only served to pull down my mood and make me feel sorry for myself again.

Instead of wallowing, I packed up and headed back to Brent’s apartment. It was a thirty-minute walk, but I needed to save money wherever I could. When I got home, Brent was lying in front of the television with his shirt off, slurping noodles from a bowl.

“Uh…you’ve got a couple of noodles on your chest,” I pointed out to him.

“Oh, nice.”

“Nice?” I said, unable to conceal my disgust. “You’re a pig.”

“And you’re a nag.”

I frowned. “When did you get home?”

“I’ve been home all day,” he replied, without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Don’t you have a job?”

“I’m using up my sick days,” Brent said. “Besides, I’ve started up a business recently, and it’s starting to pick up steam.”

“What business?” I asked curiously.

“Buying and selling,” he replied distractedly. “It’s complicated; you wouldn’t understand it.”

“I wouldn’t understand buying and selling?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah… Can we talk later? I’m watching something.”

I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t want to start a fight, so instead, I kept my tone even. “I’d be happy to leave you to your show, except that you’re kind of watching it in my bedroom.”

“Fuck, you’re right.” He nodded. “Use my room till I’m done.”

Wordlessly, I went into his room and shut the door to drown out the sound of the television. I was lying on Brent’s bed, dreaming of living in an apartment on my own, when my phone started to ring. I glanced down and saw Phil’s name on my screen. For the first time since I’d met him, I hesitated before answering. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him. It was just that I was frustrated with how things were between us.

There was so much chemistry there. There was a definite connection, and yet, for some reason, Phil seemed oblivious to it. Or maybe this was just all in my head, and the chemistry was one-sided. Given the state of my life, I needed something to be happy about, and I had hoped that Phil would give me that little spark of hope. The fact that he was handsome, accomplished, and brave only made my yearning greater—and that meant that I was perpetually disappointed.

“Hi,” I said, finally picking up.

“I was afraid you weren’t going to pick up,” he said.

“Why?” I asked, deciding to be a little flirty today to see how he’d react. “Did you miss me?”

“I like talking to you,” he replied. “You know that.”

It was a lukewarm answer and one that took pains to keep things clear and platonic. “How was your day?” I asked.

“Pulled a car off an old lady,” Phil replied proudly.

“Wow, really?”

“Well…me and seven other guys,” he laughed. “But it’s still worth mentioning, I think.”