Page 35 of Hate to Love You

It’s almost comical the way Natalie’s brows snap together.

“Help how?” she asks skeptically.

I’m tempted to reach across the table and smooth out her furrowed forehead, but I don’t. She’s liable to take the fingers right off my hand.

“Well,” I shift on my seat. Tact is of the utmost importance here. This discussion is like walking through a minefield. I could be blown to bits when I least expect it. “I could, ah, assess the situation and give you some helpful pointers.”

If her eyes widen any more, they’ll fall right out of her head. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

I cock a brow. “If you think I’m suggesting that we make this relationship physical, then yes. That’s precisely what I’m suggesting.” She doesn’t move a muscle. Just continues staring at me like I’m crazy. “I told you this could be a beneficial arrangement for both of us. I have the necessary skill set you require, and you have the necessary knowledge I’m looking for. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that sounds very much like a symbiotic relationship to me.” I tap my finger against the side of my head.

Thank you very much, Biology 101. That’s probably the only thing I remember from that class.

“Oh my God, you’re not joking,” she mumbles. “I thought you were just trying to be an ass. Because honestly, who says something like that?” She shakes her head and pops a fry into her mouth and then mutters, “But no. You’re actually serious about this.”

“Once you’ve had some time to think it over, you’ll see the benefit to what I’m saying. Obviously, you have a few hang-ups where sex is concerned—”

She grips the edges of the table with her fingers until her knuckles turn bone white. “I do not have any hang-ups.”

“You sure about that, Davies? Because your reaction to my proposal suggests otherwise.” Striving for nonchalance, I fork off a huge hunk of meatloaf and shove it in my mouth as I watch her.

She drops her gaze to her plate and says with less force, “I don’t have hang-ups. There are absolutely no hang-ups to speak of.”

I sense there’s more coming. When she says nothing further, I ask, “But?”

Her hair slides forward like a curtain as she drops her chin to her chest. Finally, she lifts her eyes, skewering me with them. “I’m not a prude or some born-again virgin. I just don’t have a ton of experience. I’ve dated, but for the most part, I’ve been too busy with school to get wrapped up in guys. And I have zero interest in being a puck bunny.” A look of anger crosses her face, and she snaps, “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Of course not.”

Maybe.

Giving her explanation time to settle, I scoop up some mashed potatoes and lift the spoon to my mouth. Once I swallow them down, I say, “I’m not trying to embarrass you.”

“Are you sure about that?” Instead of holding my gaze, she focuses on dragging a fry back and forth through the puddle of ketchup on her plate. “Because I get the distinct feeling you’re enjoying this.”

She’s wrong about that. Making her feel like shit was never my intention. “Not being experienced isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed,” she bites out. “I could have sex every weekend if I wanted. It’s my choice, and I’ve chosen not to.”

“Fair enough. All I’m saying is that I can help remedy the situation. Obviously what Reed said bothered you.”

She shrugs and reaches for another fry. “It hurt because I never thought he’d throw that in my face in front of so many people.”

Disgust burns a hole in my gut. “Reed is an asshole.” And that’s putting it nicely. “The guy has a major problem keeping it in his pants.” People think I’m bad when it comes to whoring around, but Reed Collins is ten times worse. That guy is on some sort of quest to nail as much ass as he can. When I caught wind that he was going out with Natalie last year, I’d thought maybe he’d had enough and was ready to settle down and get serious about someone, but that didn’t turn out to be the case.

“Yes,” she replies dryly, “I know. That was part of the problem.”

“Right.” Growing serious again, I lean toward her. “Just think about what I’m saying, okay? You don’t have to give me an answer right now.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t sleep with you, Brody. It would be…weird.”

Weird isn’t the first word that comes to mind when I think about having sex with Natalie.

Hot.

Sexy.

Amazing.

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