Page 19 of The Virgin
“Deliriously.” Colby rolled his eyes. “If you were on fire, you’d say you were okay and not to bother putting you out if it would inconvenience anyone.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“You’re exactly that bad. You’re about as emotionally available as a turnip.”
“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel.” Jonah didn’t exactly love Colby at the moment.
“I worry about you, okay? I’m allowed to, aren’t I?”
The fight left Jonah, and he let out a sigh. “How about this—if I promise to let you put me out, should I ever catch fire, will you take my word that, in this moment, I’m perfectly okay? Maybe slightly more than okay, but it’s not anything I want to talk about.”
“That the best you can do?”
Jonah nodded.
“Okay. Fair enough.” Colby nodded his agreement. “You will tell me, though, right? Pinky promise?”
Warmth spread in Jonah’s chest, mixing with sadness. After their mom passed away, their father had struggled to keep the diner going and raise three boys on his own. Colby and Jonah often teamed up together to lighten his load. Taking care of Taylor when he couldn’t, or helping at the diner, or agreeing to stay out of trouble and look out for each other. A pinky promise was sacred between the two of them. Something that could never be broken, upon pain of death. He supposed that was a touch dramatic now, but he understood that this was important to Colby, so he hooked his pinky finger with Colby’s and shook on it.
CHAPTER 10
SPENCER
The bear was shapingup nicely. As it should, seeing as how Spencer spent the entire weekend in his garage, welding and grinding and cutting. He understood that Jonah needed to take things at his own pace but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to obsess over the memory of last weekend.
Jonah’s silence over the last two days had been expected, understandable even, but by Sunday night, Spencer found himself wondering if he’d somehow screwed up. Was Jonah pulling away from him? Had he started to regret allowing the dynamics of their friendship to change?
Spencer flipped his welding helmet up and took a look at his progress. He’d gotten far more done than he’d anticipated and his neck ached from the weight of the helmet, so now was a good time to stop. Besides, his concentration was starting to slip, and after spending hours in the creative zone, his brain was starting to turn into soup.
He was proud of what he’d accomplished over the weekend, but the reason he’d been so focused on his work was starting to bother him. After putting his tools away, he locked his shop and trudged into the house. Cold pizza was on the menu but not until after he showered. The problem with that was now that he’d showered with Jonah, he was all Spencer thought about whenever he stood in the spray and the steam of his shower. He remembered the way Jonah had blossomed under his touch. Hesitant but still willing to trust Spencer with things he hadn’t entrusted to anyone else.
Jonah might’ve seen his virginity as a burden but to Spencer it was a gift. Sure, Spencer had had sex before. More than his fair share, with people of varying experiences and genders. Jonah wouldn’t be the first virgin Spencer had been with, but there was something about Jonah that made what they did go beyond sex. It was intimate in ways Spencer had never experienced before. He found himself craving his friend and the way he looked when he was pinned under Spencer.
It was the reason he was in the shower with the water cranked to cold, not that it did much to curb his arousal. The only thing that made him go soft was when he let himself wonder whether Jonah was avoiding him.
That thought got Spencer moving, and before he second-guessed himself, he was out of the shower, hair still wet, struggling to get clothes onto his still-damp skin. He was halfway to Jonah’s place when he thought of turning around. He pressed the gas pedal, inching it closer to the floor. Not that he could afford a speeding ticket, but he also needed to get to Jonah’s before he questioned the sanity of what he was doing.
Was it normal to offer to be your best friend’s sexual tutor? What was supposed to happen after the proverbial cherry was popped? Spencer hadn’t let himself think that far ahead before and now the question was the blade of a guillotine, hovering hungrily over him. After was a thing that Spencer would deal with later. In this moment, he needed to make sure Jonah was okay.
He pulled up in front of Jonah’s townhouse and killed the engine. Dogs barked in the distance, but otherwise it was a quiet neighborhood. It wasn’t quite a place where you could leave bikes out unchained or where you’d become best friends with your neighbors, but for the most part, it was quiet and safe. Everyone there did their thing, tried to get by, and didn’t bother anyone else. It suited Jonah’s reclusive nature.
Spencer knocked on the door. Most of the time he wandered in, but usually Jonah knew he was coming. Hardly a minute had passed when the door swung open.
Jonah was wearing his glasses, something he only did when he was grading or had been doing lots of work at the computer. He reached to push them back up his face, and Spencer had to smile at the red ink on his fingers. He was also wearing the shirt he’d borrowed the night Spencer picked him up from the bar.
“Spencer.” Jonah’s brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you use your key? Get in here.” Jonah grabbed Spencer’s wrist and tugged him through the door. “Did you lose your key? I can get you a new one cut, but if you lost it, maybe I should change my locks.”
“I still have it.”
Jonah stopped and blinked at him. He looked like one of those fuzzy owlets, all wide-eyed and cute. “Oh.”
“I thought you might be avoiding me.” Spencer cut to the chase. “We talk every day, Jonah. At school. On the phone. You text me. I text you. It’s how we work. We’ve always stayed connected. But this weekend you dropped off the face of the earth. You haven’t texted me or talked to me since Friday after school.”
It was only Sunday night, and suddenly Spencer’s foolishness was a kick in the guts. He’d let his anxiety run away with him and convince him that they’d broken something in their friendship. It was the only possible explanation for Jonah’s sudden silence.
“I’m sorry. God, I’m fucking everything up.” Jonah’s cheeks were a violent shade of pink, and he clutched at the back of his neck like he was tempted to wring it himself.
“You’re not,” Spencer said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.
