Page 5 of The Virgin
“Spence—” Jonah sniffled.
The hair on the back of Spencer’s neck stood on end. Something was wrong with Jonah—he heard it in his voice, broken and soft, and so devoid of anything that resembled the person he usually sounded like.
“Jonah, what’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I’m at—” Jonah must have covered the phone because everything went muffled for a moment before he returned. “I’m at Mystic. I’m stranded. Can you come get me?”
Spencer was halfway to the door, shoving his feet in his shoes before Jonah had finished asking. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. What happened?”
“I’d rather not—at least not right now. Okay? Please, Spence.”
“Okay, I’m on my way.” Spencer climbed in his truck.
“Thanks.”
Before Spencer could tell Jonah to stay on the line, he hung up.
“Fuck.” Spencer tossed his phone down on the seat and buckled up. His truck roared to life and he backed out of the driveway, wondering what the hell had happened to strand Jonah at a place like Mystic. There were definitely better places to go than that. Like The Anchor. Spencer had been to Mystic a time or two, usually because that’s where you went when you had an itch that needed to be scratched.
Ice flowed through Spencer’s veins at that thought, and it was quickly followed by molten hot fury. If someone hurt Jonah, they were dead meat. He’d worry about that later, though. First, he had to get his friend.
CHAPTER 3
JONAH
The night hadn’t startedout as an absolute disaster, but it had quickly ended up that way, and Jonah had no one to blame but himself. What made him think that he could pick some random torso off an app and hook up with him in a bathroom stall that smelled vaguely of cum, piss, and god knows what else? Certainly not cleaner. The last time the bathroom had been scrubbed was probably sometime before the pandemic, and it showed.
To be fair, Jonah had thought they’d drink and dance, and maybe that would loosen him up a bit. But soon enough, his date—for lack of a better word—had followed him into the bathroom.
Jonah had tried to go along with it, but the minute the guy latched onto his throat and started sucking up a bruise, he’d grabbed Jonah’s very not interested dick. Jonah froze, horrified beyond measure and he worried that his date… Brett? Brent? Brant? Whoever… might be turned off. If anything, Jonah’s date took his lack of interest as a challenge.
“I can get you there. Don’t worry, baby.”
That’s when Jonah got the full-body ick. He shuddered from head to toe and shoved his handsy date off of him. A flicker of rage crossed the guy's face, and Jonah thought for sure he was going to get his face smashed in.
“Whatever. Fucking psycho.” His date spewed the words with as much venom as Jonah deserved and stormed out of the bathroom.
The whole encounter only lasted long enough to give Jonah what turned out to be the world's fastest, ugliest hickey known to man and a terrible case of the shakes. He might have made it home unscathed, relatively speaking, but he’d taken his credit card out last night to purchase some school supplies online and had forgotten to put it back in his wallet. The pittance of cash he had in his wallet wouldn’t get him around the block, let alone across town to where he lived.
All of this because he’d wanted to get it over with. It hardly seemed worth it.
His virginity had become an albatross around his neck, and he wanted it gone. Maybe he should pay someone. He counted his available cash and grimaced. He never kept much on him and that was his downfall. No credit card. No cash. No dignity.
He made it out of the bar and sucked in a lungful of air that didn’t stink like sweat and stale booze. Jonah pulled his phone out and called Spencer.
He managed not to cry, but it was a near thing. He was not sober enough to hold his shit entirely together and asking Spencer for help had fractured what was left of his decorum. The silver lining that he held onto was the fact that he had Spencer in his life. Spencer was his rock. His anchor point.
Jonah would rather walk home than ask either Taylor or Colby to come get him. And hell would freeze over before he’d get his dad to come get him. He hadn’t had to call his dad for a ride since he got his license when he was sixteen. Well, maybe a time or two after that, but Jonah always did his best not to bother his dad. He’d had enough on his plate being a single dad to three boys and a business owner.
Spencer’s familiar truck pulled up to the curb after an eternity of Jonah standing outside the bar collecting looks that ranged from amusement to pity. Jonah climbed in the passenger seat and tugged his buckle on as Spencer pulled away from the curb.
“Thanks,” Jonah said after a few blocks. He appreciated the lack of questions, even though he knew Spencer must be exerting legendary restraint.
“Jo–”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” The lie was a boulder in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t unlike that feeling he got when he had the flu and knew he had to get sick. It was inevitable. And once he was, he would feel better. All Jonah had to do was open his mouth and tell Spencer, but he didn’t want to admit how pathetic he was.
“Did you want to see the progress I made on my new piece?” Spencer asked instead of prying.
