Page 37 of Light My Fire

Jackson smiles at her. “It’s a pretty damned good reason, don’t you think?”

Brooke gives a happy little sigh and sits back on the couch cushion.

I exchange a glance with Luke. Luke rolls his eyes at me and shakes his head.

His expression reflects exactly how I’m feeling, a combination ofJesus Jacksonandfuck, he’s going to get puppiesandBrooke’s virginity.

I’m gonna have to step up my game.

“So can I ask you guys a question?” she says after a moment.

I run my hand from her foot up her calf and give it a little squeeze. “Anything,” I tell her.

“Well, I’m really glad that you guys showed up here, you’ve made this thing a lot easier.”

“This has turned out really well,” I agree.

“I kind of told you something big about myself last night,” she says, her gaze dropping to her lap instead of staying on mine.

Luke shifts in his chair and Jackson softly clears his throat. I wonder if our sweet little virgin has any idea how she’s affecting the three men in the room with her.

I reach over and tip her chin up with a finger, making her look at me. “You can tell us or ask us anything. No judgment.”

She’s chewing on her bottom lip and it takes everything in me to keep from running my thumb over that lip.

I can imagine how soft and silky it would feel. But I also know the minute I touch it with any part of my body, the rest of my body is going to want to be involved.

“You guys make me feel really safe,” she says.

I know my friends well enough to know that it affects them as strongly as it does me. Luke and I are natural protectors as firefighters. Making people feel safe is important to us. But I know Jackson feels that way too. He’s a great guy. Maybe a little lost at the moment as far as what to do with his life, but at his core, he is someone who wants the world to be a better place and the people around him, especially the ones he cares about, to be happy.

“That means a lot to us,” I tell her, my voice a little gruff.

“So, since we’re still stuck here for a little time together, and you know that I don’t have a lot of experience with men, I was hoping I could ask you something.”

My heart starts thundering in my chest. Oh, sweet Jesus. Is she going to ask one of us to take her virginity? Is she going to ask for some sexual experiences? Sex tutoring?

I will be giving to charity, lighting candles, and going to church twice a week for the rest of my life if the universe dumps this in my lap, I swear to God.

“Of course,” my voice even rougher now.

“Whatever you need,” Jackson assures her, reaching up and pulling her hair back and over her shoulder.

She takes a deep breath and then says, “So the last time I told a guy I was a virgin, he had a bad reaction too. And I am just wondering, how I should go about talking about this subject with future guys? I mean, is this something I should bring up way ahead of time? Like before we even kiss the first time? Or is this something I shouldn’t tell him at all? Just go through withit and he never has to know he’s my first?” She looks from me over to Luke and then to Jackson. “I would love to have a male perspective on this.”

Several things hit me all at once.

First, Brooke is talking about being a virgin in the future with other guys. That is definitely not a request for us to change that status this weekend.

Second, all of the options that she’s laid out suck. She definitely shouldn’t keep her mouth shut about it. That’s terrible. But she shouldn’t be discussing it on the first date.

Then I realize the reason I think those all suck is because I don’t want her to have a conversation about sex with any other guy at any other time. Or really sex at all. Ever.

And third, and maybe most disturbing of all, the fact that she’s asking us this means something horrible: she considers us friends.

We are people she can talk to about very vulnerable topics. People she can ask advice about things regardingothermen.

The woman I want to strip down, lay out on the coffee table right now and fuck until she’s hoarse from screaming my name, has just friend-zoned me.

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