TEN ROWAN

TEN

Rowan

DID she really just ask me that? Not like I’m going to answer her.

“Have you had sex with anyone?” I throw back at her, confident in what her answer will be. Either a non-answer or she’ll admit she’s a virgin because she has to be one. I’ve never seen her with anyone on this campus or heard even a whisper about her love life. And that’s because it’s non-existent. I’m sure of it.

“Yes.” She nods, not even hesitating with her response. “Though it was a long time ago, and it wasn’t that good.”

Arabella makes a little face, scrunching up her nose.

“Wait a second …” Surprise washes over me as I contemplate what she just said. “You’ve had sex, but it was a long time ago? It’s not like we’re old, Bells.”

“I know that.”

“So how long ago are you talking?”

“The summer after our freshman year.”

“Freshman year?” What the shit? I was still playing video games every night with my friends and jerking off to free porn videos on the internet while Arabella was actually getting laid?

“Yes.” She nods, her expression serious. “One of my biggest regrets.”

“Who did you have sex with?” I can’t help but ask.

“Bentley Saffron Jones.”

“What the fuck? Who the hell is that?”

“You don’t know Bentley Saffron Jones?” Her brows shoot up and I’m so damn grateful it’s lunchtime so we can keep having this odd conversation.

“To be totally honest, that name sounds completely made up.”

“Believe me, it’s not. He’s a real person and I gave him my virginity when I was oh … fifteen?” She grimaces. “That’s terribly young, isn’t it.”

“Terribly,” I echo, in absolute shock. “Where exactly did this happen anyway?”

“Why are you being so nosy?” She’s smiling. I’m sure she can tell that I’m curious and I want all the details but damn. I am being nosy. And she’s right, it’s none of my business, what happened between her and this Saffron Jones dude.

“Because it sounds like a made-up story,” I tell her. Hopefully she accepts that as a decent answer.

“I’m not a liar, Rowan. But if you really want to know, let me explain. Bentley and my parents are dear old friends. A couple of summers ago, we went over to Bentley’s parents’ house in the Hamptons and stayed with them for a few weeks. I was thrilled.

It felt like the first summer since I could remember that my parents actually wanted to spend time with me.” Her smile is full of sadness, and I get the sense that they ended up disappointing her that particular summer. I’d guess they disappoint her on a constant basis.

God, her parents sound like they’re the fucking worst.

“Bentley and I have known each other since we were in diapers. We’ve always been close, but we sort of hate each other too? It’s hard to explain, but that part doesn’t matter. One night we were sitting outside enjoying the salty air, getting drunk on his mom’s good pinot grigio and the topic turns to sex because of course it does. We’re teenagers, we’re horny.”

I’m frowning because I don’t want to hear about her being horny with some asshole I don’t know.

“Bentley admits to me that he’s a virgin. I confessed that I was one too, and feeling bold thanks to all of that wine, I suggested we get rid of the burden together so … we did.” She shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

“You’re telling me you had sex with this dude that night?”

“Oh no. We prepared for it. We got drunk again of course before we did it, and snuck out to the pool house after everyone else went to bed. We had sex on a broken lounge chair, and I’m pretty sure we broke it even more.” She wrinkles her nose, and it’s the most adorable thing, despite the words coming out of her mouth. “It was terrible.”

An irrational and completely unexpected wave of jealousy sweeps over me at the thought of Arabella having sex with another guy. Even someone with the most ridiculous name I’ve ever heard, like Bentley Saffron Jones. I think she might be playing me.

“What was so terrible about it?” I ask her, wanting more details even though I know they’re only going to make me angrier.

“You really want to know?” She peers up at me, caution alighting her eyes as she brushes her fingers against her pursed lips. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that story.”

I can see the regret written all over her face.

“Don’t worry, Bells. Your secret is safe with me.”

“It’s not really a secret. I would tell anyone who wanted to know who I lost my virginity to. I mean, sex is just … sex, right? There was no emotion involved and I wasn’t in love with him. Not even close.”

This girl blows my mind. I got the sense that she was a total romantic who believed in falling hopelessly in love, and instead she’s talking about casual sex and how she gave up her virginity to a family friend when she was only fifteen. I can’t even wrap my head around this revelation.

“We should go to lunch,” she suggests when I still haven’t said anything.

“Okay.”

I walk with her toward the dining hall, tuning out her incessant chatter while I try to absorb the fact that she’s had sex and I want to know what this guy looks like. I want to know how much he might mean to her. Girls don’t just casually hand over their virginity like it’s an old sweater they want to get rid of. The ones I know treat their virgin status like a prize, and only the guy they’re madly in love with gets to win it.

That’s how I’ve always viewed it at least. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Arabella is as casual as anyone else, and I’m the one with a stick up my ass.

Just before we enter the dining hall she touches my arm, stopping me. “You don’t think less of me after what I just told you?”

“Think less of you?” I don’t know what to think, if I’m being honest. I hate the swirl of emotions inside me that make my chest hurt. It has nothing to do with her not being a virgin, but the fact that she had sex with another guy instead of … who?

Me?

I’m being ridiculous.

“Yes. I don’t want you thinking I’m a … whore or whatever.” She sinks her teeth into her lower lip and fuck, that’s cute. Why is everything she’s doing right now so fucking adorable? “I’ve only ever had sex with Bentley. There’s been no one else.”

The relief I feel at that admission is way too strong.

“Though we did have sex five times,” she adds.

“Five times?” Five??

She nods. “We were trying to … figure everything out.”

“And did you?”

“Not really.” Her soft sigh is tinged with sadness. “He wasn’t very good at it. Not a great kisser either.”

“Bells.”

“Yes, Rowan?”

“I don’t like hearing about you kissing another guy. I really don’t like hearing about you having sex with this guy either.” I bite the words out, my chest aching with the confession.

“You don’t?” Her surprise is obvious.

I shake my head.

“Why?” She seems truly confused. “Does it bother you?”

“Yes,” I bite out.

“I don’t understand.” She drops her hand from my arm, and I immediately miss her touching me which is fucked up. This entire situation is fucked up. I shouldn’t have told her that. I should’ve dealt with my feelings on my own versus admitting that her confessions bother me. “Why does it matter who I’ve had sex with?”

Here is my chance to be real with her and admit that I sometimes think about having sex with her. Not that her past experience has any sway on how I feel about her currently, it’s just …

I don’t know. I can’t explain it.

“Look, there’s this stigma wrapped around the sexual act and it’s just … it’s silly. It’s human nature to have sex. We’re all built to procreate. Boys can have sex with all kinds of girls and no one judges them but I have sex with Bentley, and now you’re thinking I’m some sort of slut who sleeps with any guy she meets.”

There is pain in her voice, and I wonder if she called herself a slut so she’d beat me to the punch?

“That’s not true. You don’t know how I feel. And I definitely don’t think you’re a—slut.” It’s not even a word I use as a part of my everyday vocabulary.

The relief on her face is evident. “Okay good. You still seem mad though.”

“I’m not mad.” I grab hold of her arm, yanking her close to me. Our bodies collide and mine reacts, just like that. Just like usual. Her sweet floral scent swirls around us, and her curvy softness seems to melt into me. Like we’re two pieces of a puzzle locking together.

Which is absolute bullshit. I know it is. We’re not like that, Bells and me. I need to be a realist.

“Then tell me how you really feel, Rowan,” she murmurs, her voice lulling me into submission. “Why does it bother you that I’ve had sex?”

The truth hangs on the tip of my tongue and I part my lips, ready to confess my sins, when Callahan approaches us with a giant smile on his face.

“Rowan! Arabella! There you guys are.” He slaps me on the back before yanking Arabella in for the briefest hug. “We were missing you guys at the table so they sent me looking for you.”

Irritation floods me at my best friend’s appearance. “We were having an important discussion,” I tell him, my voice serious.

“About what?” Cal asks.

“My wild sex life,” Bells says, making Cal laugh. She laughs along with him, her gaze cutting to mine, and all I can do is scowl.

I’m fighting my emotions that threaten to bubble up and unleash all over … Cal and Bells and whoever else is in my path. Damn, her admission is just so unexpected.

She’s had sex. Some asshole has touched her naked body and … fuck, did he make her come? Did she give him a blowjob? Did he go down on her? Finger her? Kiss her so deeply that she cried out because it felt so good?

Five times gives them ample opportunity to do all kinds of stuff.

I cup the side of my head with my right hand, threading my fingers in my hair and tugging on the strands until it hurts. I cannot fucking stand the images that are now appearing in my brain.

Arabella and Callahan are still talking—about what, I don’t know, and I can’t take it anymore.

“I’ve gotta go,” I say, completely interrupting their conversation, just before I leave them where they stand.

And I never look back.