Playboy's Virgin

by Tia Wylder

  Matthew had feelings for Claire, and quite obviously, she had feelings for him as well. It should have been enough for him to tuck tail and look for a place to lay low for a while. It was the same story whenever a woman came to develop feelings for him, and God there had been plenty. He lost their number, ignoring their desperate texts and calls and… he felt like a monster, considering doing that to his friend.

  Shaking off the thoughts as best as he could, Matthew tossed his cell phone on the coffee table before retreating upstairs for a shower. He needed to wash the stink of sex off him, the scent of betrayal. No matter how hot he turned the water, it didn’t feel like enough to scorch off his wrongdoings. He knew he was overreacting, or at least, he was reacting more than he ever would have, before. There was still a small chance he could fix this. He was a charming man, even if he had abandoned Claire, there was no doubt that he could exploit her developing feelings for him. It was what any alpha male worth his weight in gold would do.

  He couldn’t. As the steam from the shower settled heavy over the room, as his skin grew mildly inflamed from the heat of the water, he knew in the bottom of his heart that he could not exploit Claire’s feelings. If not for his own developing feelings, he would call her and apologize. Invite her over to talk things out over a cool drink. Maybe he’d invite her out to dinner, maybe he would cross those lines he had promised he never would. When he signed up for this charade, he had already crossed a line in the metaphorical sand. He had told himself he would never go out to help a woman unless it served him in some way. He hadn’t gone into this entire plot with the plan of catching Claire in the women’s locker room with her pants down. It had just happened. It had been wonderful, better than any sex he’d ever had, but he hadn’t planned for it. He supposed one never planned to…

  He was getting ahead of himself, trying to put a name to the feeling. He would take it one step at a time. The first step was to get out of the shower and call Claire, let her know how sorry he was. Exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a luxuriously plush towel to dry himself off. He examined his reflection in the mirror for a moment, surprised to see just how troubled he looked. He’d never been so stressed in his life, never so worked up over any woman. No matter. He would fix this. He threw open the bathroom door, wrapping the towel around his waist as he slinked downstairs. He could hear the distant beep of his phone, indicating that he had missed a call of some sort. Dread crept up in the pit of his stomach at the sound, but he tried to assure himself that it was nothing to worry about. Claire wouldn’t break things off now, not after everything they’d been through. It would be far too late to find a replacement for Matthew, especially considering that he’d already met her sister.

  Still, he found himself stealing his nerves as he gripped his cell phone, swiping it to reveal that he indeed had a missed call. The number was unfamiliar, and he quirked a brow before pressing the key to play the message. He held the phone to his ear, scarcely able to make out a voice through the background noise of the call. It was Claire, but she wasn’t calling from her own phone. She said she was at the Half Pint, and that she no longer needed his… services. His insides curdled at the way she phrased it, as if he had been little more than some hired whore. He glared at his phone as he drew it away from his ear, debating calling the woman back to tell her just what he thought of that situation. The warmth of his feelings for her fell away at the idea that she had indeed been using him, that he had allowed himself to get swept up in a way he never wanted. However, he had feelings to express that couldn’t be expressed over the phone. If she wanted to end this charade, she would have to do it to his face. Decision made, he stalked back upstairs to get dressed. He made certain to dress to the nines, silently appraising himself in the mirror as he adjusted his tie. He didn’t consider that it might seem somewhat strange to come to the rundown bar in attire fit for the ritziest restaurant in town. All he knew was that he didn’t like the glimmer of pain reflected in his own eyes.

  The trip to the Half Pint seemed to drag on for an eternity, but once he found himself outside the bar and grill, he found himself debating if he really wanted to cause a bigger rift between them than he already had. Though her insinuation that she had been using him had hurt, Matthew knew there was likely a deeper meaning to Claire’s actions. If she had no feelings for him, she certainly wouldn’t have sacrificed her virginity to him. He valued himself a rather attractive and charming man, but he knew it would have taken a lot more than that to catch Claire with her pants down. He breathed a sigh, leaning against his car and lighting a cigarette. He inhaled deeply, the smoke burning his lungs as he considered his options. His decision was seemingly made for him as he spotted Claire being escorted out of the bar, and he stomped out his cigarette before approaching her and the man who held her so roughly.

  “What’s going on, here?” He blurted angrily, meeting Claire’s gaze with some trepidation.

  “She’s so drunk off her ass, Matt. Never seen her get so wasted before. I was just gonna see her home,” the other man said with a sly wink. Matt’s eyes widened, and he glanced to Claire. For her part, she seemed scarcely able to keep her footing, swaying slightly from side to side. Realizing that the man intended to exploit her, he narrowed his eyes heatedly at the man.

  “That’s quite alright. I’ll see her home with her being my lady, and all,” Matthew gritted. The other man’s eyes widened, and Claire seemed to finally notice his presence. Her eyes were sad, initially, but grew fiery as she continued to take in his appearance. “Come on, love. Let’s get you home. You’re in no shape to drive,” Matthew offered gently, extending his arm for the drunken woman to take. She seemed surprised by the gesture, nearly stumbling into Matthew’s arms as the other man turned tail and fled.

  “Oomph,” she grunted unhappily, wobbling in Matthew’s grip. “What are you doing here, all dressed up? Planning to pick up another chick, one who…,” she paused, hiccuping loudly. “Here to pick up another chick who won’t give you any trouble? You’re lucky I don’t beat your ass, rich boy,” she slurred. He narrowed his eyes upon her, irritation brewing in his gut.

  “I’m only here to see you home, Claire. I don’t care what you think about me, I only care—,” he began, cut short by her poking him painfully in the chest.

  “You only care about yourself and getting your dick wet. I understand, Matt. I was stupid enough to fall for your charms the first time, but I’m not a girl to be made a fool of twice,” she bit out. He narrowed his eyes, tempted to draw away from her. He could tell, however, that she could barely support herself now. As much as he wanted to put her in her place, he also didn’t want her spirit broken. He had never felt so torn about a woman in his life.

  “I’m here because I care about you, you foolish woman. Now, come on. I’m taking you home before some other guy takes advantage of you,” he hissed. She stumbled forward as he began to guide her to his car, and he was relieved when she finally stopped struggling against his grip. When they made it to his car, he yanked the passenger side door open, allowing Claire to fall none-too-gracefully inside. She groaned weakly, and it was only then that he noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Claire…?” He inquired hesitantly, crouching to get closer to her level.

  “Stop acting like you care about me,” she ordered weakly. His eyes widened, but he knew it would do little good to argue with her in her present state. Swallowing the bitterness of her anger, he stepped around the car and got inside. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing began to even out; a welcome change from the desperate gasps and stuttering breaths. His emotions were muddled and confused as he watched her, but he simply swallowed a sigh, starting the ignition and driving toward his home.

  Chapter 8

  When Claire woke, it was with the startling realization that she was not in her own bed. She began to panic, fumbling around blindly until the light flipped on. Matthew offered her a weary smile fr
om the door, a bottle of water in one hand and a bottle of painkillers in the other. She hesitated for a moment before extending her hand to accept the bottle of water. He handed it over with no fuss, simply watching her with a vaguely sad smile. She opened the bottle taking a long swallow before realizing just how much she needed the pain meds. She snagged them from his hand, popping a few into her palm before swallowing them down. He hesitated as she handed both objects back to him, but she paid him little mind. Taking stock of herself, she realized she was still fully clothed, if entirely hungover. She had a dull ache between her thighs that reminded her of the day previous, and she looked up to meet the eyes of the man that so haunted her thoughts.

  “Why’d you bring me here?” She inquired softly, watching with some trepidation as he sat on the edge of the bed beside her. He exhaled a rather tired sounding sigh, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

  “I wanted to keep an eye on you,” he admitted, and she realized just how bloodshot his eyes were. It was obvious that he had not slept the night prior, though she had no guesses as to why. She reached out as if to gently caress his face, but drew away as she remembered the entire day previous.

  “It’s not like I’d go and off myself just because you ditched me in the locker room, Matthew. How desperate do you think I am?” She joked. He leveled her with a serious look, folding his hands in his lap.

  “I don’t think you’re desperate at all. You just called from the Half Pint last night, and said… well, that you didn’t want to carry on with this whole wedding plan any longer,” he began, pausing and seeming to consider his words.

  “I was worried.” he finally settled upon, watching her with pursed lips.

  She blinked blearily at him, not really remembering much of the night after she’d arrived at their usual hangout. She could vaguely remember a man offering to take her home, and her eyes narrowed in disgust at the thought.

  “Eugh. At least I didn’t end up at Stanley’s house,” she breathed, and he managed a chuckle.

  “You were leaving with him when I showed up. You were plastered, I know you wouldn’t give him the time of day, otherwise,” Matthew smiled. Claire hesitated, pressing her knees together in mild discomfort. “I can’t explain away the gym so easily, however…,” he continued, looking somewhat reproachful. She laughed bitterly, averting her eyes and allowing her hair to obscure her face.

  “Yeah, well… that makes two of us. I’d hardly consider you comparable to Stanley, though. Give yourself a bit of credit, rich kid,” she said, trying to tease the man a bit. It all felt too forced, nothing like the banter they had shared in the last week.

  “Claire, I didn’t mean,” he began, but she was swift to cut him off.

  “I know you wouldn’t have slept with me if you thought it was something meaningful,” she blurted. He looked surprised at her bluntness, but she simply offered him a crooked smile. “It was… dumb, on my part. I guess I was just so thrilled in this whole plot, and… that’s why I wanted to tell you it’s over. I’m gonna tell my sister we broke up, my mom can believe what she wants,” she said dismissively. His eyes narrowed, and he drew away as if burned.

  “I’m not going to treat you any differently because we slept together. What kind of monster do you think I am?” He demanded in a growl. She simply smirked, watching him with a quirk of her lips.

  “Not a monster. You just have a notorious habit of leaving women hanging after you get what you want, and I didn’t want to entertain the hope that you’d want anything to do with me after all of this is over,” she said coolly. He grew more flustered, hands forming into fists at his sides. She watched with a vaguely amused expression, though there were obvious hints of sadness to it as well.

  “How do you know what I want, Claire!? You’re my friend,” he hissed. She seemed almost defeated, not rising to the bait of his increasing volume.

  “I was your friend. I went and ruined all that. Honestly, I can’t blame you for any of it. I don’t blame you for fucking me sideways in the locker room, as much as I’d like to. I’ve been using you this whole time and… really, I’m not going to do it anymore,” she stepped back slightly.

  “Using me…? How… I did this because I wanted to help you. I didn’t sleep with you for the best reasons, but you’re one of the most attractive women I’ve ever met. I hardly felt used. Was that all this was for you? Some game? You’d be happy with never seeing me again, once all this is over?” He step forward and raised his voice. She shrank away, drawing her lip between her teeth and staring at him with wide eyes. “Well, at the very least I’m glad you got your jollies. Get off at the expense of some rich idiot, and you can tell all the girls that you got one over on the top dog,” he continued to rant. Her eyes narrowed critically, and she couldn’t help growing angry at the accusations. Her reasons for wanting to break of the charade were nothing so nefarious, but it was becoming increasingly evident what this man truly thought of her.

  “You think you know everything, don’t you? Big alpha male Matthew, has every woman pegged as some useless bimbo. You think you even have me pegged, but you don’t. You’re fucking wrong,” she shouted, lurching upright in the bed. He laughed, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down his nose at her.

  “I’m wrong, huh? Then tell me, Claire. Why do you want to end this now?” Matthew demanded.

  “Because I love you, you idiot! I don’t want to date you as some farce anymore. I don’t want any of this to be… I don’t want this entire relationship to be founded on a lie,” she said, her voice starting strong but ebbing off into a soft whimper. Matthew’s eyes widened in disbelief, but she didn’t wait for a response before throwing the blankets off herself. She jolted out of the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she threw her hands up in exasperation. “Stupid Claire, getting thrilled in some fake relationship. Giving her virginity to a guy who would never… who would never feel the same way. I didn’t expect anything different, Matthew. I just can’t take the pain of it anymore,” she chuckled bitterly, wiping her tears away. He parted his lips, obviously looking as if there was something he wanted to say. Something to add to the conversation. However, she gave him little time to offer a response, grabbing her shoes and stalking out of the room. Matthew gawked at her, trailing after her before she could get too far away.

  “And where are you going? I drove you here, it’s not like you can just-,” he began, cut short by a derisive laugh.

  “I’ll walk, Matt! I don’t need your false platitudes anymore. I don’t need you to pretend to care about me. I know all I need to know, and I’m going home so I can figure out how to tell my family that I don’t actually have a boyfriend,” she shouted, storming through the front door. Matthew darted after her, abandoning his sports car to follow her on foot. She seemed determined to outrun him, but he kept a steady pace as he trailed behind her. “Stop following me,” she called out, coming to a stop to turn and face him.

  “Let me talk, first,” he barked. She stiffened, looking entirely prepared to lay into him with a series of punches. “I… I don’t know how I feel about you, Claire. All I know is that I feel something, something I’ve never felt before. I’m not ready to give you up, but I’m not ready to confess my undying love either,” he spoke more gently. She hesitated, watching him with a tight-lipped smile. “Give me a chance to think. We’ll go to the wedding, we can pretend everything is okay. Then, we can talk about this. Don’t give up on me without even giving me a chance. I’m begging you,” he continued, taking a step towards her. She considered him uncertainly, hands twitching at her sides. It wasn’t clear if she wanted to punch him, kiss him, or kill him.

  “You seriously expect me to believe you have feelings for me? After leaving me for nothing at the gym?” She asked softly. His expression was pained as he looked at her, taking another step to close the distance between them. She made no effort to step back nor out of the way, matching his step with one of her own. They closed the distance, and
he cupped her cheeks in his hands as they stood face to face. It was obvious that she had no idea what to believe, no idea what to do. He quirked his lips in a hesitant smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  “I’m not the best at feelings. Give me until the wedding. You’ll have an answer then. Please, Claire. Give me time,” he pleaded. She exhaled a sigh, reaching up to gently touch his cheek. Their eyes met, and it was obvious that she was searching for some sort of obvious hint that he was deceiving her. When she found nothing, she breathed a sad sigh before drawing away.

  “I’ll see you at the wedding, then,” she said with an air of finality. He looked so grateful he could kiss her, but she clearly wasn’t ready for that leap. She hesitated for a moment longer before turning back towards the city, making her way towards her apartment. Feelings of the like she had never experienced washed over her in full force, and it was all she could do to keep from bursting into tears again. She wiped her eyes of the one stray tear that managed to leak out, the walk to her apartment seeming to go on for eternity. She couldn’t know if it was a mistake to allow Matthew another chance, but at any rate, it seemed a mistake she was willing to risk. Despite everything, their fights and their anger, she couldn’t deny her love for the man. If there was any chance he could feel the same, she was willing to find out. She wouldn’t wait forever, but…