Studly Period by Sarina Bowen

Author:Sarina Bowen [Bowen, Sarina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tuxbury Publishing LLC
Published: 2021-01-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

December

I wonder how many synonyms my thesaurus knows for embarrassed?

I'll bet there are plenty. I can think of several off the top of my head. But abashed, chagrined and sheepish aren't really strong enough for the way I feel right now, as Pepe waits for me to confirm or deny my lust-filled post on Yipstack.

Mortified. Yeah, that sounds about right.

“Maybe the author does not want to say,” he whispers. “But a pretty girl told me once that writing was easier for her than speaking. I hope if she has anything to tell me at least I would get a text to me directly.”

“But that sounds excruciating,” I blurt out, finding yet another word for this moment. “Texts can be ignored. Or laughed at.”

He sits back a couple of inches. As if offended. “I’m not the kind to laugh, chaton. Don’t you know that already? Just like you don’t laugh at all those things I do wrong in English. That is not how it is with us.”

Oh. I really like the use of “us” in that sentence.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I believe I’ve actually offended him. And I don’t know how to untangle myself from this tricky place. I’m stuck in awkwardville, but I finally understand something important. Those girls who take the guy home with them? They don’t have any special magic, or a secret playbook. It’s just that they’re willing to crash and burn.

And I don’t think I am. Not with Pepe, anyway. That would hurt too much.

“I should go,” I say suddenly.

“Ah.” Pepe sighs. “Yes, okay.” He stands up, too.

I retrieve my jacket from its hook in the other room. And then Pepe takes it out of my hands and holds it up so that I can more easily slip it on.

He is so polite that I can hardly stand it.

Then Pepe takes my hand in his. The slide of his thumb against my palm is the most distracting thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Is it weird that he’s holding my hand? Do friends do that?

Sure they do, the wine in my bloodstream assures me. We walk silently out of Capri’s, and down Wall Street until it joins College Street.

We turn left and walk another block. This is it. The bitter end of the semester. And I don’t even know if Pepe is taking any English classes next term. If it’s all math, I might never see him.

Reluctantly, I take my hand back when I’m standing outside the gate to Fresh Court. “Have a great holiday,” I say in a shaky voice.

“You too, chaton.” He smiles at me. “I will let you go. It is late.”

“Right,” I say slowly, my heart beating wildly inside my chest. It’s now or never. If I crash and burn, I’ll have three weeks to recover. So I walk to the edge of this cliff and I step off it. “Is it too late, though? For me? And you?”

His thick eyebrows lift in surprise. “Never.”

Okay. Wow. “Walk me home?” My voice breaks on the last word, but I got the sentence out.

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