Page 31 of Studious
Nodding, I set my dishes in the sink, then go down the hall to change into my clothes from yesterday. When I pick up my phone, which Danny helpfully charged overnight, I see the text thread where he talked with my mom. Reading it, I get a swoopy feeling in my belly. He let her know I was okay without betraying what a fool I’d made of myself. I’m not sure whether his kindness makes me feel better or worse.
I sit quietly in his fancy car as he drives me back to the office. We don’t say anything the entire time until I need to tell him what level of the parking garage my car is on.
When we pull up next to my much more modest hatchback, I pause before opening the door, staring down at my knees. “I’m sorry I was such a lightweight and got drunk, and I’m grateful to you for taking care of me. I’m sorry I asked you for help with my love life—”
He holds up a hand to stop my chattering. “What if I have a proposition for you?”
“What kind of proposition?”
“What if I help you out, and in exchange, you let me talk about you on my socials. I tell your story. Like, I’m the love coach or sex tutor or whatever.”
What the hell? “I don’t want to be known on social media as a huge loser.”
“You won’t be. I wouldn’t even name you. I’d just talk about your progress. And I’d run the videos by you first, of course.” He gives me a mildly embarrassed look. “In a moment of… I don’t know what, I agreed to a bet with Charlie about going viral on Ad/VICE in six months. Documenting your progress from virgin to confident, accomplished stud could be something that people would want to watch. They’d be dying to know when you finally get dicked down.” He grins. “I mean, I know I would be.”
I tilt my head. Do I really want to have my story splashed all over the interwebs? Even if it’s anonymous?
I guess, if no one knows it’s me, I don’t really care. And, honestly, even if they found out my name, what’s the worst thing that could happen? It’s not like I have friends other than Mason. So… I’d be even more undateable? I’d get pity dates? I’d get roasted on the internet? I’d be embarrassed and publicly humiliated?
It can’t be worse than fumbling my first kiss and never having anyone go after me again.
“If I agree to let you tell my story, you’ll teach me how to be more confident? How to talk to guys… and do more than talk?”
He nods, and I shiver, because the burning look he’s giving me is making mefeel. I want him, and it will hurt that he’s going to be teaching me how to go after someone else.
But if that’s where I’m destined to go, then that’s that. And how bad could it be? If this is a way of helping him get what he needs, then it feels less like pity and more like an even trade. I’m helping him out while he’s helping me out.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll let you document me.”
“You will?” He gets this surprised, but kind of pleased and kind of concerned look on his face that makes the potential embarrassment worth it. In any case, I don’t really know that I can be more embarrassed with Danny. He’s already seen me at my worst and is still being nice to me. He hasn’t shunned me.
Danny feels safe.
I nod.
“Then I’ll help you with your love life. Be your wingman or whatever. Give you advice.” He gives me the sweetest grin. “I guess I didn’t think I had much to offer. But if you want my advice, it’s yours. And maybe it can help someone else, too. Maybe someone watching your story can get courage from it as well.”
A knot that had settled deep in my stomach loosens at his words. “You mean that? This could help other people, not just me?”
“I do. Let me have your phone number.”
I give it to him, and he immediately texts me a thumbs-up.
For some reason, that gives me a thrill. This uber-hot man has my number, which is something I always dreamed of. Of course, it’s an artificial situation, but with my love life, I need to take what I can get.
I enter his name as Danny, even though I really want to enter it as “the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen in real life.” But that would be fanboying a little too hard, so no.
“Is there something specific you want me to teach you?” he asks.
“Everything. I don’t know how to talk to guys that I like. I have no idea how to pick up a guy in a bar. I don’t know the first thing about kissing. Or anything else. I don’t know how to do anything sexual at all. I’m just… a loser.”
My stomach knots up again. I hate saying this stuff out loud. You’d think I’d be smoother, now that I’m well into my twenties, but nope.
“No.” Danny holds up a hand. “For starters, if I’m going to do this with you, I need positive self-talk. You do want to get an A in my Playboy 101 class, right?” The grin he gives me makes my insides weak.
Could Danny really help me? Flutters of excitement start to chip away at the heavy weight in my heart.
I smile back. “I always was a good student.”
