Page 72 of The Man Next Door
Relief washed over him, and a whisper of a smile traced his lips.
“I want you to be my first,” I told him. “Wouldn’t that be better than one of these park boys? They’re all jerks. All they care about is having sex, and bragging about it. Paul told everyone about Izzie after they did it,” I went on, eager to sell my point. “He told them that he popped her cherry. Izzie cried for two days straight.”
He nodded slowly, considering my words.
“I won’t be with any of them,” I promised. “If it’s not you, then I won’t be having sex until college. Or maybe I’ll go to the convent and become a nun.”
He laughed. “You better work on that potty mouth of yours if you want to go to the convent, kid.”
I smile. “What? I barely curse, just the occasional F word.”
“Well, you’re too pretty to utter those ugly words.”
“I get it from my dad and brothers,” I pointed out. “You hear something over and over, and it becomes part of your vocabulary.”
He sighed. “I know.” He knew that I didn’t belong there, in that trailer with three men who couldn’t have cared less about me.
“You should go,” he said quietly. “Happy Birthday.”
My heart sank.
He took my hand in his, like a caring father might. “I need to think about all this, Abigail. You and me… maybe we could be something. I just need to wrap my head around it, that’s all.”
My heart rose again. My pulse sped. He was giving us a chance.
Maybe we could be something.
He pulled me off the sofa and walked me to the door. He grabbed the box of donuts and handed it to me. I knew I’d have to hide it in my room. The last thing I wanted was to answer my dad’s probing questions. I slid the blue velvet box in my jacket pocket and said goodbye with a heavy heart.
I stepped out, and walked home feeling hopeful.
