Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
But it feels a little like excitement.
Or food poisoning.
Or a tumor about to explode in my upper intestine.
I’m not entirely sure.
But it’s okay that my insides are in knots. Normal, even! Until tonight, the spiciest event in my personal history was the time Sully, Elaina, and I went to a male strip club during our senior trip to Atlantic City. I spent the entire show giggling my head off, until the sexy firefighter knelt down to waggle his “hose” inches from my face, and I blushed so hard I almost passed out.
Sully had to haul me out to the lobby for a breath of fresh air. There, Elaina put my head between my knees and rubbed my back until I stopped hyperventilating and insisted they go back inside and enjoy themselves.
I spent the rest of the show in the lobby with the cranky-looking bouncer, leaning against the wall, listening to the happy shrieks and music from inside, torn between feeling sad that I was missing out and relieved that there were no thinly-covered penises in my vicinity.
At eighteen, I was not ready for sex or anything sex adjacent. I was way too shy, and I’d seen firsthand how badly teenage romances could go awry. My cousin’s long-term boyfriend dumped her at seventeen, just in time for her to give birth to their child alone, and my older sister Mallory had dated every abusive loser in a seventy-mile radius.
Only they didn’t seem like losers at first…
Watching Mallory’s boyfriends go from sweet and attentive to screaming at her in the driveway at midnight taught me a healthy respect for the changeable nature of men. And with a course load chocked full of AP classes designed to ensure I graduated with both my high school diploma and my associate’s degree in business management by the end of my senior year, I didn’t have time for stressful or unpredictable things. I was happy to stick to hanging out with my girlfriends and binge-watching episodes of House Hunters on nights when Sully and Elaina were out with their men of the moment.
I didn’t start thinking seriously about kissing until I was twenty, and for the first year of my “awakening,” I was content to read steamy romance novels and enjoy quality alone time with my vibrator.
I was twenty-one by the time I finally started flirting with men at the pub. I was twenty-one and a half when I realized no one in Sea Breeze wanted anything to do with sweet little Maya Swallows in that way. Boys my age want to be my friend, and older guys want to protect me like a sister. Even the tourists seemed to find it easy to steer clear of more than a kiss or two on the beach after the Friday night lobster boil.
In three years of dedicated effort, I’ve barely made it to third base.
Which is why I’m here. I’m twenty-four years old, for goodness sakes. I’m tired of waiting for Fate to throw me a bone. It’s high time I took matters into my own hands and tracked down the bone myself.
The thought makes me think of boners, which makes me snort with nervous laughter, which makes me cough, ensuring I’m red-faced and wiping tears from the corners of my eyes when the hostess materializes from the velvet curtains like a supermodel genie emerging from a lamp.
“Are you all right?” she asks, her big brown eyes soft with concern.
I nod and press a hand to my chest, fighting to regain control. “Yes. Thank you, I just—” I cough again before sucking in a breath and holding it for a beat. When I’m certain the storm has passed, I exhale and offer a sheepish, “Sorry about that.”
The insanely beautiful woman smiles warmly, her teeth as bright as the shimmery fabric of her gauzy white dress. “No need to apologize. I’ll get you a glass of water when we get to Ms. Kincaid’s office.” She motions toward the deep V in the curtains to our right, where another beautifully carved door is tucked into the shadows. “Shall we?”
“Oh. Yes. Thank you. Sure.” I gulp and stand, my hands fluttering nervously at my sides, two virginal birds certain they’re headed to the slaughter.
The hostess rests a slim hand on my shoulder, her touch cool through the black spandex of my borrowed gown. “Don’t worry,” she assures me softly. “We’ll be going through the bar to the back stairs. There’s a mandatory orientation before guests visit the garden level. We’ll make sure you’re comfortable and prepared before you join the fun.” She bobs an easy shoulder. “And if you’d prefer to spend the night in the bar or in the library with a good book, that’s fine, too. We have an incredible collection of novels and a fantastic little fireplace. It’s especially nice this time of year, with all the evergreen boughs hung around the mantle. I’m Raven, by the way.”