Scored (V-Card Diaries 1)

Jess slurps the last of her milkshake. “I’ll come with you. But I’m not giving up on this. There has to be a good beginner-flirtation practice venue somewhere in this city. Right, Ian?”

Ian looks up, blinking as if he’s been deep in thought. “Um, yeah. Totally. We’ll find a place.”

“Good.” Jess lifts her arm, wagging the small purse dangling from her wrist back and forth. “And are you sure you don’t want us to leave some money?”

He waves a hand. “Nah, it’s my treat. Consider it your consolation prize.”

Jess and Cam both thank Ian again for the food and slide out of the booth. “You coming, Evie?” Cam asks.

“Soon. I’m going to chat with Ian for a little bit,” I say, my stomach palpitating around the handful of fries I managed to force down while waiting for Harlow to confirm that she and Derrick were both alive. “I’ll catch you later.”

Jess waves and Cam starts toward the door, holding it open for Jess like the gentleman he is before they both start down the street.

When they’re gone, I turn back to Ian, not surprised to find him watching me with a more focused expression than I’ve seen since we arrived at the diner. But then, this is the first moment we’ve been alone since I asked him to take my virginity.

He pulls in a breath, but I jump in before he can speak, “Two weeks,” I say, holding up a hand. “Just until the preseason starts. Then we go back to being friends, you can concentrate on the game, and we both pretend nothing happened.” I flip my palm to face the ceiling. “How easy is that?”

He frowns. “Two weeks. You mean—”

“Two weeks of sex,” I say, ignoring the way my cheeks burn in response. I had this indecent proposal mapped out in my head hours ago.

But thinking something and actually saying it aloud to a man who’s watching you like you’re in the process of growing another head right in front of him are two very different things.

“And practice pretending to be part of a fun, functional couple,” I hurry on, figuring there’s no turning back now. “I realized something during your lesson tonight, Ian. Something important.”

“What’s that?” he asks, looking vaguely nauseated.

“That I don’t need lessons.” I lean in to add in a softer voice, “None of what you were saying came as news to me. I know how to flirt and communicate and set boundaries, I just need to work up the courage to actually do it. That’s what I need help with—testing my knowledge. Practice. But I need to start with training wheels on, so I don’t crash and burn. And that’s where you come in.”

“I’m the training wheels?” he asks, turning to murmur, “Thank you,” as our server drops the check on her way by.

“Yes!” I say, forcing what I hope is an easy smile. “A couple weeks of practice with someone I know I can trust—a friend who won’t make me self-conscious if I mess up or make fun of my beginner questions—is all I need. Then I’ll be ready to leave the nest and you’ll have your Whitney rebound out of the way and be ready to get back on the dating horse for real. It’s a win-win.”

His brow furrows. “Yeah, in theory, I guess, but things are always more complicated in the real world, Evie. And sex makes them even more complicated. Besides, your first time should be—”

“Special and beautiful and perfect, blah, blah,” I cut in with a roll of my eyes. “Yeah, I know. It should be all those things, I agree, but I haven’t met the man who’s up for helping me with all that yet, Ian, and it might be a good long while before I do. Most of the guys in this city aren’t looking for a long-term relationship and the few who are don’t want to start one with the world’s oldest virgin.”

His expression softens. “You’re not the world’s oldest virgin. Cam and Jess are right there with you.”

“Cam and Jess are both younger than I am by several months. And that’s not the point. The point is that I won’t feel comfortable having sex for the first time until I establish trust with my partner. But no one wants to stick around long enough to establish the amount of trust I, as an ancient virgin who’s built this virginity molehill into a mountain in her head, need to finally take the plunge. It’s a vicious circle, Ian, and there’s only one way out.”

“A professional matchmaker,” he says. “I hear they do good work. I could loan you the money for a consultation if you—”

“No, not a matchmaker. That would be another high-stress situation. I’d have to worry about meeting someone new and whether we like each other and how much money I was wasting on dating instead of concentrating on the part I’m still struggling with. I need a friend with benefits to help me learn the ropes. And you’re the only guy friend I have who’s super experienced and knows what he’s doing.” I motion vaguely over my shoulder. “You know. In the bedroom.”