Biker's Virgin

“Hey! I didn't say I was an expert. I just know where a f-few constellations are.”

“Show me another one then.”

I moved a little closer to her and pointed again. “Well, there's the Big Dipper. See it?”

She followed my finger and smiled with delight as she caught sight of where I was aiming. “Yes! Right there. Awesome! What others do you know?” she asked eagerly.

“That one right there is Draco, the Dragon.”

“Ohhhhh, do you think Daenerys is up there riding him?”

“Back to our Game of Thrones references, are we?” I joked.

She smiled and turned her head toward me to say something at the exact same time I turned toward her to say something. For a few electrically-charged moments our lips were merely inches apart and our eyes met in an intense gaze. Every fiber of my being was screaming out for me to lean in just a little closer, and press my mouth against hers. But before I could, she stood abruptly, breaking the moment.

“I-I need to get back inside,” she stuttered, her tone flustered. “Thank you very much for the astronomy lesson. It was nice. Enjoy the stars. Have a good night, Emerson.”

With that, she folded her deck chair and turned to walk off. I watched her go, and, despite the missed opportunity, I smiled and looked back up at the starry sky. Friday had been a good day.

Chapter Seventeen

Brooke

Friday had been a really strange day. Who would have thought it would close looking at the stars with Emerson on the roof? It had been one rollercoaster ride for sure—riding on a motorcycle for the first time, running into Ben at dinner, having Emerson there to serve up some delicious revenge to Andrew, and then chatting with Emerson on the roof under a beautiful, starry sky in a moment that could have ended with…

A kiss.

Heat gushed through my body at the mere thought of how close I had come to Emerson's lips pressed to mine. They’d been inches away, and the look that passed between us had been indescribably intense.

But I couldn't… I just couldn't do it.

I mean, he was drunk for one thing. But even if he'd been sober, I don't think I could have done it.

Or… maybe I could have.

I climbed into bed with thoughts of Emerson’s warm mouth spilling over mine.

***

With a cup of hot coffee steaming on the desk next to me, I logged into my email to check if there was anything from my parents about the upcoming family barbecue in honor of my dad's fiftieth birthday.

There wasn't, but there was an email from the college’s activities director. It was about the RAG Society—an acronym for Remember And Give. They were a group involved in a number of fundraisers on campus that raised money for local charities. They were looking for new members to sign up. I'd wanted to join last semester, but my class schedule conflicted with their weekly meetings. However, it looked like I'd be able to make the meetings with my new schedule. I'd been involved with various charity work throughout my life, and last semester it was something I sorely missed. I was looking forward to the opportunity to get back into it.

I immediately sent off the email signing up.

I was surprised to get a reply just a few minutes later saying there'd be a get-together that afternoon for new members to get to know the leaders and current members. I responded that I'd be there and then I got out my chemistry notes to start a day of studying.

***

I left my first RAG meeting feeling fantastic. The society was operated by very efficient and motivated people, and I got a sense they really were in it to help those who were less fortunate rather than merely being involved for the sake of having something attractive to put on their CV. What was even better, we'd already been given our first project to raise money for a local children's charity. We’d sell potted plants donated by a local garden center so whatever we sold for would be all profit. Several of us had each been given a basket with ten small potted plants to sell. If we could get a couple of dollars for each plant, we'd easily be able to raise a few hundred, or even a thousand dollars for the children's charity.

The first thing I did, of course, was buy one for myself—a beautiful little daisy. I popped ten dollars into the donation box and put the daisy on the balcony with the rest of our plants as soon as I got home. I'd kind of counted on Leslie buying one, as well, but she wasn’t home. I figured I wouldn't actually have to venture very far from my apartment building to sell the plants.

Since Leslie wasn't around, I thought I might see if Emerson was up for buying a plant. I hadn't noticed any green in his apartment the one time I'd been there, so I figured it would be a nice addition to the place.

I headed out and knocked on the door--which was promptly opened by Chris, who leered at me before staring at my chest in my kind of low-cut top.

I instantly regretted that choice and sp