Page 5 of The Lessons

We paused in silence, the air thick with…something.

“I don’t think I got your name.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “Why do you want my name?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Relax, sweetheart. Just being polite. I’m not asking for your social security number.”

I paused. Maybe he was right.God, Natalie, why do you have to be so suspicious of everyone?Hot guy wants to know your name. Maybe guys on the West Coast wouldn’t be like the guys back East.Give him your fucking name.

I cleared my throat. “Natalie.”

“Natalie.” He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms.

I became acutely aware that my body was still stuck between him and the bookshelf behind me.

“And does Miss Natalie have a last name?” He offered a controlled smile and deep eye contact, which caused my kneecaps to evaporate. I ventured to guess very few women would be immune to this man, and that of course made me suspect. I may have been a smitten jumble of emotions, but I sure as hell wasn’t dumb.

I shook my head.

“No, you don’t have a last name, or no, you’re not going to tell me?”

I countered with a shrug. “You haven’t told me your name.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’re right. How rude of me.” He offered his hand. “Ryan.”

I shifted my stack of books so they balanced on my hip and carefully held out my hand. As our hands met, I felt another pulse of electricity rip through me. I knew I should have looked away, but there he was again, trapping me with his stare. Something in his eyes told me he knew exactly what effect he was having on me, and it made me nervous. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention.

Crap.

“So?” He looked at me expectantly.

“So?” I mirrored, thoroughly confused.

“Your last name.”

“I, uh,” I stammered, trying to buy time as a cascade of heat started to make its way down my neck.Dammit.I hated getting into situations like this, and I was absolutely positive no other woman would ever understand. See, to any onlooker, Natalie Reese was a fairly competent, unattached, thirty-year-old woman in a new city. If a hot guy was hitting on her, you’d think she’d do nothing to get in the way. However, I had a secret that was a deal-breaker. And I was ashamed.

I was still a virgin.

I can explain. But first, let me back up.

This wasn’t how I’d planned it. According toThe Plan, I was supposed to be married toSerious Boyfriend #2by now. In fact, we were supposed to be having our first child by this autumn. However, things clearly weren’tgoingaccording to my plan. I’d had some stumbling blocks, starting with Serious Boyfriend #1, and now the entire timeline was off course.

I was, however, taking steps to remedy this. The first step was moving to a new city. Because I couldn’t executePlan Banywhere I didn’t feel completely anonymous. I know, it sounds extreme, but I’d spent years ignoring my goals, and before I could entertain the idea ofanysuitor, I needed to take care of this…problem.

“Natalie?”

“Huh?”

“You seem…distracted.” His brows knit together in concern. Those thick, luscious brows.

“Sorry, no. Just have a lot on my mind. I recently moved here from New York. Lots to do, you know?”

He pressed his lips together in a flat line. “I see. Work or boyfriend?”

Wait. What did he just say? “Huh?”

“I said, work or boyfriend. People don’t generally just pack up and move across the country unless they have a good reason. I’m guessing you are?what?twenty-nine?”

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