Page 12 of Pucked Together

He shrugs but doesn't offer up anything else.

I let out a heavy sigh. "Seems like it might be a rite of passage into adulthood. I can't help but feel like it was my fault."

He cinches his brows together. "Why would you say that?"

"I don't know. I've never been the sleep-around type." I admit. "And I didn't want to until I knew for sure...so we just never..."

I can't seem to get the words out. But it dawns on him what I'm trying to say. And the moment I realize it, I feel the heat build around my neck. If I could take it back, I would.

"You're a virgin." He says it with a hint of fascination. "How old are you?" He cocks his head to the side, looking absolutely intrigued like I’m some goddamn exotic animal.

"Don't mock me, Balsy." I use the name my brother does with him.

"Far from it. I just find that hard to believe. I mean, have you seen you?" He keeps his head cocked to the side.

It's an endearing trait of his that I'm picking up on. And I believe the grumpy giant just gave me his version of a compliment.

"I'm a twenty-one-year-old virgin. Sue me." I cover my face with my hands and wish we never would've started this conversation.

"Good for you," he says.

"What?" I drop my hands to see him kind of smiling at me.

"Seriously. Most guys are assholes. They don't deserve your intimacy if they can't even earn your trust."

I was not expecting that.

"Yeah, that's kind of how I've always seen it."

He swallows hard. But doesn't move.

"W-will you be going out with the guys tomorrow?" I ask, trying to change the subject. Immediately.

"No," he scoffs. "Don't let them fool you with their family dinners and censorship. They're as wild as they come."

"The old sage too old for good times?" Now I cock my head to the side.

He smirks, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. And I'm starting to get irritated by how stunning this man is.

"I have plans," he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest again.

I really want to know what plans a guy like Ryker has for a Friday night. But I won't push for now.

I shrug. "Well, if your plans change, you know where to find us."

"Yeah, don't count on it," he turns to return to his room but stops.

"You shouldn't be on that trash." He points to my phone, which is thrown on the floor with the social app still open.

"Thanks, boomer. But I think I'll be ok."

"Live your life in real-time. It's a nicer view."

"Are you telling me you don't get on social media?"

"I don't," he admits.

Once again, I'm taken aback by him.

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