First

by M. A. Grant

  Jake’s not a bad guy. But since our parents died back when I was still in high school, his role of protective brother has kind of taken over his life. He’s freaking out even more now. It’s the tail end of my finals week and he’s gone for captain’s training. He knows he’ll be back in time for commencement, but I think he’s less worried about missing the ceremony and more worried about my becoming a free adult.

  ‘For the record, I would never mention this plan to Jake,’ I tell Dally, munching some of the cereal.

  ‘So you’re not suicidal,’ Dally snarks.

  I stick out my tongue at him. He flips me off. We grin at each other across the island and both go back to eating. I’m always amazed at how simple it is to talk to Dally. He’s twenty-seven, five years older than me and the same age as Jake. He and my brother have been best friends since high school. Growing up, Dally was a fixture in our house. I never really thought about him not being part of our lives, even when he and Jake graduated.

  After receiving their diplomas, Dally moved to Arizona to work as a mechanic with his uncle while Jake went to Houston for his firefighting training. Then a major car accident claimed my parents a few weeks before Jake’s graduation and life kind of froze.

  I was at basketball practice when the police came to deliver the news. I still remember being too afraid to call Jake. Instead I punched in the first number I could think of. Dally answered on the second ring, listened to my sobs, and promised he’d take care of it. He was back from Arizona that same night and told me he and Jake had it figured out. He moved into the suddenly empty house with me and got a job at a local shop while Jake finished his training. When Jake came back and got hired on at the local fire department, Dally could have moved out, but he didn’t.

  That’s about to change.

  ‘You’re leaving soon,’ I remind him, pressing my advantage.

  ‘I know.’

  He is so freaking stubborn. ‘You’re moving back to Arizona,’ I say. ‘There’ll be time and space before we see each other again. No awkwardness and Jake would be none the wiser.’

  ‘I would still know. So I’m calling bullshit on that excuse. Good try.’

  ‘Okay, I’m asking you because you seemed like the obvious choice.’

  ‘Obvious, huh?’

  ‘You are the king of one night stands, Dally. And judging by how many times I’ve covered for you when they call you back for a second chance, you’re pretty good.’

  He grimaces. ‘Again, if you ever tell Jake about any of that—’

  I wave off his concerns. ‘Your dirty little secrets are safe with me.’ His shoulders relax and I move in for the kill. ‘If—’

  ‘Are you trying to blackmail me, brown eyes?’

  He doesn’t use it on me very much, but Dally has a very, very good poker face. I purse my lips and watch him for any tell. Damn, he’s pro … no clues.

  ‘Maybe?’ I say cautiously.

  He shakes his head. ‘No, you’re not. Because right now you’re going to take a second and remember all the things I’ve done for you.’ He ticks them off on his fingers as he speaks. ‘Midnight runs for tampons and chocolate. Picking your drunk ass up from that shitty graduation party. Teaching you to drive Old Blue. Taking you to that sucktastic sparkly vampire movie your friends teased you about not seeing. Oh, and let’s not forget the years and years’ worth of five minute showers because you always run behind in the morning.’

  I flush. When I was younger, I dreaded the embarrassment caused by our close calls in the bathroom. Now I’d pay money to catch a glimpse of him and see how much further that partially covered tattoo on his pelvis continues down below the band of his shorts …

  ‘You understand, Cat? No blackmail.’ He grabs his earbuds from the counter and bends down to tie his shoes. ‘And no sex.’

  ‘You’re not off the hook,’ I tell him.

  ‘Oh, I’m so scared,’ he mocks. ‘Don’t you have a final today?’

  ‘Unfortunately. Way to remind me you get to enjoy your day off.’ I drag myself off the stool and head back to my room, snagging my messenger bag.

  Dally’s still waiting in the kitchen when I get back. We walk out to the driveway together and he opens the door of my Camaro.

  ‘How’s she holding together?’ he asks, tapping the hood lightly with his knuckles.

  ‘Old Blue’s fine,’ I promise. ‘You took good care of her last time.’

  ‘You have your phone?’ he asks as he starts up his music, one earbud still hanging down over his collarbone. The hard beats of drums and aggressive guitar leak out.

  I roll my eyes. ‘I have my phone, oh paranoid one. Don’t forget, I’m having coffee with Maya after.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Do you have plans for dinner tonight?’

  He shrugs, corner of his mouth tilting up. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘God, you’re such a slut.’

  ‘You’re just jealous.’ He laughs when I open my mouth to rage at him. ‘I’ll see you later. And don’t drive like a frigging maniac, okay?’

  He plugs in his other ear bud. A few lazy stretches and he jogs away in the opposite direction I take to get to the campus. I watch him for as long as I dare before starting my Camaro and heading out.

  Class isn’t bad. Our final is to turn in a research paper, which I finished weeks ago. My professor wishes me well, releasing me early. I call Maya, my closest friend, as I walk toward our favourite coffee shop. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Wow, you’re out early. I’m about five minutes away. Get us a table?’

  ‘Sure.’

  It’s not as busy as normal, probably because it’s the middle of a finals hour. I order my drink first and claim a small table near the back. Maya joins me a few minutes later, all breezy apologies and sweetness. She rushes off to order her drink and brings back both to the table.

  ‘So did you ask him?’ she asks as she sits down. She knows about my plan. In fact, she’s tried to talk me out of it. It was only when she realised how serious I was that she gave in and agreed to help. She called it risk mitigation and I told her to stop trying to use big words she found in my business textbooks. Even if she used it correctly.

  I sip my iced coffee. ‘A big fat no. Technically a hell no.’

  Maya frowns. ‘What’s wrong with him? Can’t he see you’re freaking gorgeous?’

  ‘Says the woman scouted for modelling jobs,’ I retort.

  Maya and I are studies in contrast. I’m thin and small breasted, with nearly white-blonde hair and a swath of freckles over my nose. Maya’s nothing but curves, with rich bronze skin and the thickest, most luxurious tight curls I’ve ever seen. Seriously, when Maya walks into a room, heads turn. Add those killer looks to her sharp wit and free-spirited personality and any man is a goner. Too bad for the general population she seems to have found the one.

  Maybe I should try her methods …

  She must be thinking the same thing because she asks delicately, ‘How’d you ask him?’

  ‘We were having a normal conversation,’ I say. ‘We were joking around and I asked him if he wanted to help de-virginise me and—’

  Maya chokes on a sip of her latte. ‘De-virginise? That’s not even a real word!’

  ‘He understood it fine.’

  ‘And he said no?’

  I nod. She taps her finger on the side of her cup.

  ‘I didn’t expect that. I mean, he’s so …’

  ‘Yeah. Trust me, I know.’

  And I do, since I know exactly where her mind has drifted. Maya’s first meeting with Dally had occurred our freshmen year when he came to the mall to help us get Old Blue started. He’d come directly over from work, so when he hopped off his motorcycle, he was still in his dirty, greasy mechanic’s jumpsuit. The sun was high and the pavement hot and he swore and muttered under his breath the entire time he laboured over the engine. About an hour in, he’d given up on propriety and unzipped the jumpsuit partway, exposing his white tank top, and tie
d the sleeves into a makeshift belt around his waist.

  At that point, Maya made the excuse we were going to go buy him some water and dragged me away to grill me about whether or not Dally and I had done it. Thus, she learned about my virginity and my brother’s hot roommate in one fell swoop and was not at all surprised when a few days ago I brought up my plan.

  Maya is still thinking. ‘Did he say why?’

  I sigh and lean back in my chair. ‘Apparently he’s worried Jake will get upset.’

  ‘That’s the understatement of the century,’ she mutters as she takes another sip.

  I glare at her. ‘This isn’t about Jake, okay? This is about me and what I want.’

  ‘And what you want is …’

  Dally. I push that thought down quickly. ‘To lose it before commencement.’

  Maya sees through me in an instant. Her eyes go all gooey and sad. ‘Oh honey, I know how much you like Dallas—’

  ‘It’s fine. He said no. Whatever. I’ll find someone else.’

  One of Maya’s greatest gifts is her expressive face, part of the reason she’s an acting major. However, in moments like this when her disapproval radiates over me, I really wish she wasn’t so good. ‘Catherine, you only get one chance for this—’

  I snort into my drink.

  Maya’s frown deepens. ‘Ha ha. My point is this isn’t something you want to rush.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ I gripe. ‘I have no religious objections or a strong guilt complex. And I don’t have some strong emotional attachment to my hymen—’

  ‘Ugh. That is such an ugly word.’ Maya shakes her head. ‘Hy-men. Seriously, who came up with that? Some drunken gynaecologist?’

  ‘Actually, it’s Latin, stolen from the Greek. And how did we get off topic?’ She tries to explain, but I ignore her commentary and forge ahead. ‘I want the experience, Maya. Why can’t that just be enough?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s the only reason. Are you still thinking about what Robin said freshmen year?’

  Robin Traviss. My nemesis. The girl who somehow figured out I was the person who asked the ‘anonymous’ question about the best position for losing your virginity in the Human Sexuality course we were both taking. To my knowledge, she’s never blabbed that information freely, but there’s always been a suspicious correlation between me talking to cute guys at a party she’s at and their strange inability to ever call me back, despite earlier promises.

  ‘Robin has absolutely nothing to do with my decision to finally dust off my vagina.’

  Maya rolls her eyes and holds up her hands in surrender. We’ve had this argument before and it never goes anywhere. ‘Okay. So you’re planning on losing your virginity in what … six days or less? And your prime candidate turned out to be a gentleman and refused.’

  ‘The bastard,’ I grumble.

  ‘You’ll need a new plan,’ she informs me. ‘Are there any other guys you could go out with? You know, see how the night develops? Like a normal person instead of some control freak?’

  I wrack my memory. Eventually a name comes up. ‘Tom. From last semester’s econ class. He was always saying we should go out for drinks sometime.’

  ‘Wow … he sounds as exciting as a pap smear. Does anyone under forty even invite other people out for drinks?’

  I give her the eye and she bites down the rest of her complaints, forcing herself to smile at me instead. ‘Fine. You can call Tom. Just don’t bring up the virginity thing. It kind of makes this sound like a bad porno.’ She reaches out and puts a hand over mine. ‘But, Catherine, maybe you should try talking to Dallas one more time. Now that I’ve found him, I wish my first time had been with the right guy … I don’t want you to have the same regrets.’

  I’m torn between teasing her about her newfound love wisdom and genuine happiness. Happiness wins out. ‘I’m glad you two are doing so well, Maya. Even if I still haven’t met the guy.’

  She fiddles with the lid of her cup. ‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. We should all go out. I think you’ll be surprised—’

  ‘Sure. Let me know when.’ She lights up, but I’m determined to get back on track. ‘I’ll talk to Dally again. But if he doesn’t want it, I’m going with Tom. I’ve already figured out everything I’ll need.’

  Maya makes a face. ‘You’re such a romantic.’

  ‘Losing it isn’t a matter of romance,’ I assure her. ‘It’s a matter of planning.’

  ‘I think I’m beginning to see why Dallas told you no,’ she says.

  But I’m already lost in thought. Maya’s right. I don’t want to have any regrets, but I’m on a bit of a timeline. There’s got to be a way to convince Dally to reconsider. Now I’ve got to discover it before it’s too late.

  Day 1 — Evening

  I’ve managed to avoid Cat for most of the day, trying to figure out what I’m going to do. Over the years, I’ve come to accept a few things about how my life’s turned out. Jake’s like my brother. I’ve helped him beat the shit out of guys who’ve hurt Cat and know that in Jake’s mind, no guy will ever be good enough for her.

  Even me.

  Not that I’d ever bring up the possibility with him. Fuck, I like breathing. And his parents were there for me when my life went to hell, so there’s no way I’d take advantage of their baby girl.

  Which is why I’ve learned to keep myself locked down. To ignore Cat’s cute little pyjamas and act like it doesn’t kill me when she’s crying over another idiot and pretend I don’t notice when she’s checking me out—which has been happening more and more frequently the past few months. But it’s been harder and harder to keep that up.

  See, the problem is I want Cat, in every sense of the word. Knowing I’m moving back to take over my uncle’s mechanic’s shop, finally getting the chance to move on is the only way I’ve been clinging to my sanity the past few weeks.

  But this morning has blown all my control to hell.

  Cat and I always eat breakfast together; it’s a ritual we started back when I first moved in. Breakfast was the meal that made her miss her parents the most. I’d never experienced a breakfast that didn’t involve trying to sober up my old man the morning after he beat the hell out of me. With those factors in play, creating new memories to fight off the old was positive for both of us.

  Normally our breakfast conversations are about stupid crap. I mock her new nail polish and she complains about my music. We joke around and go our separate ways, Jake flitting in and out because of his work schedule, and life goes on.

  Except this morning she walked in as I was finishing up, scrunched up that adorable nose of hers, and told me, ‘I’ve been thinking about it and I’ve decided you’re the perfect guy to de-virginise me.’

  The good news? I was a gentleman. I told her no. She doesn’t need to know there’s nothing more I’d like than to take her to bed and never let her leave. Oh, the other positive was I didn’t choke on my apple. The bad news? Now that she’s brought up her scheme, I know she’s not going to leave it alone. That’s not how Cat works.

  Which is why I’m more than a little nervous when she knocks on the door leading out here to the attached garage and calls, ‘Dally? You out here?’ even though it’s obvious I am.

  She comes out without invitation and my gut clenches when her eyes drift hungrily over me. I wipe my hands off on a rag and go to the radio, turning down the rock music I’ve been blasting to keep my mind busy. ‘Whatcha need, brown eyes?’

  It takes her a moment to look away from my hands. ‘You said you didn’t know if you’d be around for dinner.’

  ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ I say, checking my hands one more time. Did I miss some grease or something?

  She can’t hide her feelings worth a damn. A song’s notes pop into my mind—Hey, jealousy—

  Her eyes narrow. ‘How lovely. None of your friends called?’

  I could be cruel right now. I could tell her I haven’t hooked up with anyone in three months and let
her squirm. But then she’d ask why not. I’d have to explain I woke up out of the blue one night and was on my way to the kitchen for water when I’d passed her room. That I’d heard her breathy moans and had cracked the door, ready to yell to Jake upstairs before busting in and killing someone. That the sound of my name on her lips when she climaxed and my realisation of what she was doing had left me abandoning her door and running toward the bathroom for the coldest shower I could stand.

  But bringing that up would only deter her initially. Eventually her brilliant, analytical mind would figure out that I’d just admitted I was more than a little interested and she’d double her efforts. Or show up naked in my bed or some other equally ridiculous scheme that would probably work.

  Yeah. Definitely better to lie.

  ‘Catty much? No, none of them called. So, what’s the plan?’

  She shrugs and steps further into my sanctuary, inspecting the work I’m doing on my bike. ‘I ordered pizza if you want some.’

  I don’t trust her. She’s being too complacent. ‘Sure.’

  I start to head inside, but as I pass her she steps in my way, forcing me to draw up before we collide. Her fingers reach out and trace down the words inked into my arm. She’s never touched me like this. That simple, slow slide is like having a live wire dragged over my skin.

  ‘Invictus … Why’d you chose this poem?’

  I can’t pull away, can’t show weakness. But unless she moves and I get past the scent of the flowery shampoo and warm sugar body scrub she loves to use, a cold shower won’t be enough this time. I’m going to have to ice my balls.

  ‘I like it.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘Yep.’

  She makes a huff of irritation, but finally pulls her hand back and heads back into the house. ‘I ordered you the meat lover’s.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  I order my dick to stand down and take a few deep breaths. Cat’s clearly upping the stakes. I need divine intervention or I’m not going to survive till Arizona.