Page 51 of Promise Me

I love that he doesn’t want our date to end, but after getting so little sleep last night, I’m tired. I also know myself. I need some time alone to process everything. Sharing Mason with him has left me feeling a new kind of vulnerability.

“I’m actually pretty wiped. Another time?”

“Absolutely.”

We talk about less charged topics on the drive home—things I like about Los Angeles, things I miss about New York, and whether one is required to root for “da Bears” when one attends school in Illinois. We’re laughing at each other’s Chicaaaago accents by the time he parks in my aunt’s driveway. He’s out of the car and around to my door before I release my seatbelt. His bigger, stronger hand takes mine to help me out. Our fingers remain comfortably entwined on the short walk to the front door.

“Thank you for dinner,” I say. “I’m really glad we talked.” The words aren’t exactly the right ones given everything I’ve revealed. But specific, more meaningful words would be too much. They’d put too much pressure on both of us.

He releases my hand and, rather than step forward to give me a kiss good night like I think he will, he takes a step back. “Me, too.”

I refuse to read anything negative into the distance he’s putting between us. Tonight was intimate enough without adding anything physical, and I know he doesn’t want to pressure me on “the whole virginity thing.” Still, I can’t stop myself from leaning forward and going up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Good night.”

He lets out a long breath, the only indication I have that separating is equally hard for him. That he wants more, but he’s taking my another time to heart.

“Good night, angel.” He backs up another step. Then another and another, his eyes never leaving mine.

When he pauses, I think maybe he’s changed his mind about a more serious kiss, but he doesn’t retrace his steps. “You busy Saturday night?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Come to dinner at my house.”

“I thought you didn’t cook.”

“I have a few skills. Trust me to get it right.” One corner of his mouth curves up into a very wicked smile. “What have you got to lose?”

The question puts a tremble in my stomach. We both know exactly what I have to lose. “Okay.”

“Seven?” he asks, as if any woman could say no when he uses that grin.

“Seven.” I watch his retreat, waiting until I hear his car start before I slip my key in the lock and turn the handle. Once inside, I press my back against the thick wood and let out a long, uneven breath.

Hello, virginity? It’s me, Kendall. I know we’ve been through a lot together, but I think it’s time to give you up.

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