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“I am a virgin.”

Quentin’s movements froze, and a second passed before he withdrew from her completely to sit back on his haunches.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed, her eyes wide with panic.

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

Phoebe closed her legs and sat up. “What reason would I have to lie to you? I don’t understand, what’s the problem?”

Quentin covered his mouth with his hand briefly then dropped his hand as his probing gaze dug into her. “You came here knowing we would possibly have sex, but you’re a virgin.”

Exasperated, Phoebe nodded and shrugged as annoyance crept in. “Yeah, so, what’s your point?”

Quentin was quiet again, trying to find his words but incredibly taken aback by her revelation.

“What is it? You don’t like virgins?” Phoebe folded her arms, seconds from getting out of pocket.

“What?” he balked. “No, I mean yes, I mean…” he sighed and slipped his arms back around her waist, sinking his face into her chest.

Phoebe draped her arms over his shoulders and hugged him, embracing his strong back as he breathed into the center of her breasts. Neither of them moved, for long seconds, they just held one another in a warm blanket of heat. Quentin’s hands trailed up her back then down her spine to her bare buttocks.

Phoebe didn’t know what to think. To say she was confused was putting it mildly. But she waited for him to say something. Anything that would explain why they weren’t having sex.

Quentin turned his face up to speak when a heavy knock ricocheted against the screen door.

“Aye yo, Q!” Jonathon yelled inside. “I hope you don’t have company, man, because I’m coming in.”

Quentin and Phoebe both cursed at the same time.

“Where are you, man, we’re all going down to the beach to have a last night celebration before brunch tomorrow.”

Jonathon’s voice was getting closer, and quickly, Quentin removed himself from Phoebe’s grasp and stepped back into his shorts. Phoebe had never seen a man move that fast. Only lightning could beat his speed. Within seconds Quentin was standing at his bedroom door just in time to stop Jonathon from coming any further.

“You know,” Quentin said, “it’s rude to just enter a man’s quarters and traipse all through his space without permission.”

Jonathon cracked a smile. “Then you shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked and opened. I could’ve been anyone coming in to leave you for dead.”

At the mention of death, Quentin eased out of the room and shut the door behind him, just as Jonathon peeped a pair of bikini bottoms on the floor. Jonathon smirked.

“Oh, you got company. I should’ve known,” he said. “Who is it, the girl from the hotel bar?”

“No,” Quentin said, peeking over his shoulder.

Jonathon shut his jaw. “My bad,” he whispered. “Why don’t you bring her down, and you guys can get back to your thing afterward.”

“I think you and the fellas can have fun without us,” Quentin retorted.

“You’re right,” Jonathon said, “we could, but it’s our only night. Besides,” he slapped a hand on Quentin’s shoulder and whispered, “The one with the shortcut bob that was eye-fucking you from the karaoke machine is down there. I know you want to get at her. She’s your type.”

A thump sounded against the bedroom door, and Quentin knew Phoebe was listening to their conversation.

“I’ll tell you what, if that will get you the hell out of here, let’s go,” Quentin said.

“Wait, you’re not going to get ya girl?” Jonathon frowned.

“Na’ll, she’ll be waiting when I get back.”

Jonathon chuckled. “Aight, let’s go.”

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