Chapter 2 #2
Suddenly, I stumbled sideways. I looked over to find Juliette with her pointer finger hooked through my belt loop the same way my dad moved our bull by the ring in his nose.
“If you don’t mind,” she said smoothly, staring into my eyes, lashes fluttering.
“My runway partner and I are going to head back to my place and get to know each other better.” Her eyebrows bobbed, and her tone left no doubt as to what she meant by that.
As much as it was a compliment, my chest collapsed in on itself. No, no, no. Juliette wasn’t supposed to be a one-night stand. She was a flowers-at-the-door, nerves-in-my-chest, picking-her-up-properly kind of woman. The kind you took home to meet your parents. Not this.
Nessa bared her teeth, her hackles fully raised.
If Juliette noticed, I couldn’t tell.
She turned back to her table of friends. “Looks like it’s going to be a good night after all. See you in the morning, ladies. Declan, no worries. I’ll make sure he’s nice and refreshed for tomorrow.”
I stood there, mortified, feeling like a painting being auctioned to the highest bidder.
They broke into a cheer. Not Nessa, though.
She looked murderous. My whole head was on fire, but I wouldn’t embarrass Juliette in front of her friends.
I at least owed her that. So I obediently followed her out of the restaurant.
As soon as we were in the hall, I stopped walking. She nearly tripped, her finger still tangled in my belt loop.
She turned to face me. “What’s going on?” She smiled, amused but confused.
“Uh…” I scrubbed the top of my head. “I don’t do one-night stands, sorry.” My hotshot buddies would tell me I was out of my mind. But I knew who I was and who I wanted to be tomorrow morning.
I thought she’d look rejected, but instead she unhooked her finger from my belt loop and collapsed against me, laughing. Dang. She smelled amazing—like honey and orange blossoms.
“Oh, good,” she breathed. “I’m way too tired for a wild fling tonight.”
Wait.
Was she just saving me from Nessa?
“Thanks.” I patted her on the back.
“Of course.” She stepped back, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she smiled. It nearly paralyzed me again. But then the smile faded. “What kind of hookups do you do?” Something in her tone sounded like she was testing me.
“Uh, what do you mean?” I asked.
“You just said you don’t do one-night stands. So what kind of hookups do you do?” She wagged a finger at me. “And tell the truth. I can sniff out a liar.”
It felt like a trick question, and there were approximately a thousand things I’d rather have been doing than discussing my lack of a sex life with her. But there was only one right answer. So I took a deep breath and said, “I only do eternal hookups.”
Her eyes widened, and she studied me for a second, like either she didn’t believe me or she didn’t know what to say next. “Like marriage?”
“Yup. Marriage. As in ‘I do’, and babies, a mortgage, and a lifelong commitment.” I shoved my shaking hands into my pockets, waiting for her to tease me. That’s always what happened next.
But she didn’t. She didn’t say anything, and her expression was agonizingly neutral. Maybe she didn’t believe in the institution of marriage. Thinking back on her reels and interviews, I’d never heard her talk about wanting marriage or kids.
When the silence stretched, I gave her a nod. “It was nice meeting you. Have a nice night, Juliette. I’ll see you tomorrow on the runway.”
She placed her hand on my forearm. “Hold up. We’re not done here. So you’re saying you’re a virgin?” She waved a hand over my body, like she thought I was lying. “You? Like, you actually want me to believe you’ve never had sex?”
Embarrassment punched through my chest. Here was the teasing. I could handle it from anyone… but not her.
I crossed my arms and forced a chuckle. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like to crawl back to my room right now and eat the emergency Snickers I packed.”
But she didn’t laugh, and the groove between her brows deepened. “As soon as you answer my question.”
I dragged a hand over my face, dying inside. “Yes, I’m a virgin.” I’d learned to own it a long time ago, regardless of how uncomfortable it made me.
She gaped as if I’d just told her I moonlight as Captain America. “There’s no way.”
“Way.” The tips of my ears were on fire. “I’m surprised your friend Nessa didn’t tell you that.”
Her head gave a little shake, as if trying to clear it, before her expression turned fierce. “We’re not friends. We just work for the same brand.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why would she know that about you?”
I clamped my mouth shut, letting her fill in the gaps.
I didn’t care what story she made up in her head.
It couldn’t be worse than Nessa’s constant attempts to seduce me—waiting in my car topless.
Breaking into my hotel room in the dead of night.
Sending texts that would’ve had my mom plotting murder.
Always hoping she’d find the right angle to crack my resolve.
All it had done was make me never want to see her again.
“Fine,” Juliette said. “Forget I asked. Will you answer one more question for me?”
I blew out my breath. “Sure.”
“Why?” she asked. “I mean, is it a religious thing? Are you training to be a monk?”
Even though I felt ridiculously vulnerable, I could tell she was legitimately trying to understand.
I looked her right in the eye. Because if there was anything I wasn’t ashamed of, it was this. “I’m saving myself for my wife.”
Her eyes widened, the surprise unmistakable. Her hands pressed to her cheeks as she searched my face. And searched and searched. Finally, after the longest pause of my life, she said, “Oh. Okay. Well.” She nodded, no smile, and gave me a little wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I turned and walked away, doom spiraling, not sure if she was impressed or repulsed. I couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d almost taken me back to her apartment—and, not gonna lie—what we might’ve done there.
So when I got to the lobby, I walked straight past the elevators and opted for the stairs instead. All twenty-four flights. And when I got to my room, I did one hundred push-ups, two hundred sit-ups, and took one very long, very cold shower.