Page 4 of The Bachelor

And I’d certainly done that—with the ladies and my professors, neither of whom would ever forget my name, although for entirely different reasons.

“I’m ready to come back,” I admitted, reaching for my vodka. “Ready to get a place of my own and take the bar and start work. Declan’s not going to hold the title of the top litigator for long.”

“Oh, yeah?” She laughed. “Well, you’re going to have to fight your sister on that. She’s after the same title, and she would like nothing more than to rip it away from that dick.”

That fucking word.

I wanted to hear her moan it.

“It’s been a while since we’ve caught up. Tell me about you, Oaklyn. How’s the marketing world? And your dating life? Seeing anyone serious?” I settled into the corner, fixing the pillow to give me a better angle to view her.

And what a view it was.

Oaklyn had this natural look about her—creamy skin and the most arresting sapphire eyes, puffy pink lips that she constantly licked, the wetness she left behind always making them glossy. There weren’t many women who could pull off a clean, makeup-free face and still look fucking breathtaking.

But that was her.

I’d seen her in the morning when she just crawled out of bed, after a full day of skiing when she was soaked in sweat, in a bikini following hours of being in the ocean. I’d also seen her in a gown at prom when her lids were painted and her cheeks were glowing and her lips were red.

Tonight was the way I preferred her.

Raw, unpainted.

Innocent.

She let out a huff of air, her cheeks beginning to flush.

Something told me it wasn’t from the wine.

“Marketing is going great. I just got promoted to senior account manager, and my book of business is triple from when I first started with the company. I’m working with the dreamiest brands, and within a year or two, I should have enough to buy my first condo.”

“Impressive.”

She drew in a deep breath. “My dating life … not so impressive.”

“Why is that?”

She held the glass near her chin, watching me, but not drinking. After several seconds passed, she tilted the opening, allowing some of the wine to trickle in between those invitingly plump lips. “Are you sure you want to hear this?” She let out a small giggle. “This is my second glass of wine. I don’t know what’s going to come out of my mouth at this point.”

Now, wasn’t that an interesting question?

And description.

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t,” I told her.

“My last boyfriend, Trevor, he recently ended things for the stupidest of reasons.” Her hand moved to her hair, running her fingers through a curl. When she reached the end, she started over, this time going much slower. “At least, I think it’s stupid.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“It’s because …” She looked away, her skin turning even more flushed, her teeth grinding across her lip before she continued, “I wouldn’t sleep with him.” She locked our stares. “Lame of him, right?”

“You mean, you didn’t want to do it every day? Or weekly? I … don’t understand. It’s not like you’re a virgin.”

The corner of the couch hugged her so tightly that she looked half-swallowed, and so did her face while she stayed completely silent. Blinking. Looking at me like a deer in fucking headlights.

“Wait, you’re a virgin? Oaklyn, how is that even possible?”

Her chest rose, staying high as she said, “Oh, it’s possible.”

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