Page 11 of Better Than the Beach
Bailey
Sup?
Me
Abridged version, my flight out of Denver is grounded for the next few days because of the Snowpocalypse and I’m at this B&B in Golden CO.
And there’s a guy here...
Ivy
Oooh, what’s he like?
Bailey
Is he hot?
Me
34. PhD candidate in psych. Freaking gorgeous. And he can sing. And he made me an omelet. And so so nice.
Ivy’s video chat request rings through first, followed by Bailey’s, and within seconds, my screen is filled with their smiling faces. Ivy looks curious, and Bailey looks...well, she looks like trouble.
“Bone him,” Bailey says by way of greeting, and Ivy and I both laugh. “You did plan to lose the cherry over winter break. He might not be a cabana boy, but I think this is a pretty sweet plot twist. Bone him.”
Instead of answering, I flick my eyes to Ivy, and her lips are dancing in a smirk.
“What do you think, V?”
“I’m with B,” she says with a shrug, finally letting her smile loose. “You wanted to have sex. Might as well do it in a mountain retreat B&B with a sexy scholar while snowed in.”
“Put thelayin layover, Cass,” Bailey says with a snort.
Ivy giggles, then adds, “You’re going to be safe and smart, so what’s the problem?”
“What if he doesn’t want to bone me?” I whisper as insecurities begin to creep in.
I’ve never been insecure with guys. I’m a virgin because I haven’t wanted to have sex. I wasn’t saving myself, and I’d had a few opportunities, but I just wasn’t interested. Until now. But even though I’ve never been shy, I’ve never tried to seduce anyone, either.
“Bullshit,” Bailey spits, and Ivy snorts.
“Is he giving the impression he’s not interested?” Ivy asks, ever the pragmatic voice of reason.
“Doubtful,” Bailey chimes in. “You’re gorgeous and most men are horndogs.” I bark out a laugh. She’s such a cynic. “Seriously. As long as he’s single, bone him.”
“Well, he’s here alone for the holidays, and he’s not wearing a wedding ring...” I muse. “I’ll find out if he’s single. And then maybe...”
“Bone him,” Bailey and Ivy say at the same time.
“Operation Seduce the Scholar,” Ivy croons, and when I hang up the phone, the butterflies in my stomach are back in full force, and I’m formulating a plan.
Later in the afternoon, I make my way back downstairs with every intention of finding Nolan and working my charm.
Or at least attempting to, since I’m not sure I even have charm let alone the know-how to effectively work it.
I made sure to put on some makeup, highlighting my eyes and lips with the help of cosmetics, and I gave my hair a bit of a curl. It’s too cold for a sundress, so I’m wearing more of the clothes Nan lent me: linen pants, a cable knit sweater, and wool socks. It’s not the most tempting of outfits, but I’m cozy and warm, and it reminds me of childhood Christmases. Rosy red cheeks from playing in the snow all day, warming fingers around a mug of hot chocolate with those little marshmallows. I have to admit, I wouldn’t get this kind of nostalgic, soul-deep feeling in a bikini and flip-flops.
Just as my feet hit the landing, the soft sound of Christmas music drifting from the sitting room is interrupted by a loud clatter and a grunt.
