Page 29 of The Stud Next Door (Frisky Business 3)
What the hell, Connor? How much wine have I had?
Jessa’s already wine-tinted cheeks deepen with color, her blue eyes focused on my lower lip. Just when I think she might lean in, she bursts into laughter.
“You know what? Yes. Let’s go. Why not, right?” The look on her face is absolutely joyous and completely infectious.
I’m grinning back at her when I scoop her hand into mine and lead us down the road back toward Frisky Business. The walk is short and pleasant, the night breeze cool enough that Jessa tucks herself against my arm.
All is perfect until we step into the shop and walk smack dab into a garish display of dildos under a sign that reads:
COMPLIMENTARY. THANKS FOR JOINING US!
Whose fucking idea . . .
Caleb. It’s got to be. Fucking Caleb.
The look of pure shock on Jessa’s face has me swimming in a pool of regret. I’m such a fucking jackass. Way to ruin an otherwise perfect night. I’m about to spew some lame apology when the instructor emerges from the back and waves us inside.
“Y’all here for the sex-ed class? Come on in, folks. Welcome.”
Still cursing silently, I follow Jessa to the back of the store where a gathering of couples are mingling around the coffee machine situated just outside the meeting room. Jessa turns back to me, the expression on her face equal parts excitement and trepidation.
“No turning back now, huh?” she whispers, a familiar sparkle returning to her eyes.
I’d have to agree. I think we’re well past the point of no return now.
10
* * *
JESSA
This has officially become the most unique date I’ve ever been on.
We’re sitting in the back room at Frisky Business with six other couples. By “we,” I mean I’m sitting next to Connor, who’s looking so hot it’s unfair. His knee is so close to mine that I can almost feel the heat of his skin through the denim of his jeans. Between the closeness of his body and the fact that we’re literally sitting in the back of a sex-toy shop that he owns, it’s getting really, really hard to focus.
I’ll admit, when Connor first asked me out, I was hesitant. Scratch that. I didn’t even realize what he was asking. He’s my boss, after all, and our dating would be totally inappropriate. Plus, with every day that passes, I get closer to leaving, and that doesn’t feel fair to Connor or to baby Marley.
But then Connor looked at me, and I looked back at him, and the look in those dreamy green eyes was enough to make my heart ooze out of my chest.
I know what it’s like to feel rejection. Real rejection. The kind that pierces through you, pokes holes in your chest, makes you feel like you’re empty and hollow inside. And I knew I couldn’t do that to him. Not to Connor. Not to a man who’s so sweet, so sincere, he makes me wonder why I ever wanted to leave this city.
Because I’ve been with men who were the opposite of him. Men who were cruel and heartless and cold. Men who rejected me, even when they were with me. Men who looked for every opportunity to tear me down, to make me feel small and insignificant and unworthy of their precious attention. I’ve wasted years chasing after those kinds of men, waiting for them to change, waiting for them to love me the way I wanted them to.
But of course they never did. No amount of love I could give them could ever be enough. They were who they were, and I had to accept that. Or, in my case, have them push me away so many times I felt like I might break into a million tiny insignificant pieces until I decided to stop crawling back to them anymore.
Then finally, one day I started to put myself back together again. I took some time for myself, a year or two, to really figure out who I was and what I wanted. That’s how I’d decided on the trip to Central America.
It wasn’t just about getting away—it was about helping people, doing something that really mattered. Which is why it feels so terrible that any part of me is now thinking about staying in Chicago after all. Even if it is for Connor. Going on the trip is supposed to be for me. It’s supposed to be a part of my healing.
“Friends, lovers, people of all varieties, welcome to Spice Up Your Sex Life.” A twenty-something woman with lavender hair, a septum ring, and an artful half sleeve on her left arm stands at the front of the room with her hands clasped over her heart, and a warm, welcoming smile on her face. “I’m Neda, and I’ll be your guide this evening.”
Neda starts walking around the room, weaving through the rows of couples as she continues.
