Page 12 of Rescuing Erin

“That’s right, I forgot, there is a nice little dossier on me. A neat and tidy record of my life for anyone to peruse. I mean, why bother asking me anything? Just read the White House file on Erin Anderson and you’ll know everything you need to know.”

“Not everything, Erin. The file may list the facts and highlight your accomplishments but it says nothing about the woman you are.”

“Accomplishments? I haven’t accomplished anything.”

I didn’t like that she thought so little of herself. I’d studied her life inside and out and was impressed at what I’d found out about her. She was extremely giving of herself and her time. She was on the board of several charities and volunteered countless hours. I had to admit I’d judged her harshly before I knew her. I still thought she had issues with people telling her no, but maybe there was more to her rebellion than simple overindulgence.

“Who was the man in the guesthouse?”

“Willy?”

“Yes. William Shradder.”

“If you already knew his name, why are you asking me who he is?”

“I want to know who he is to you.”

“He’s a friend.”

“You get naked in front of all your friends?”

Simply thinking about that night infuriated me.

“No!”

“So? He gets special perks?”

“Don’t be an asshole, Colin. Why do you care anyway?”

There was the million-dollar question. Why did I have a personal interest in who Erin got naked in front of? Why had I thought about William Shradder more than I cared to admit?

“I just do.”

“Not good enough. If you want to be friends and you want me to answer your questions, I expect honest answers from you, too.”

Well, damn, Erin had no problem calling me out on my lack of sharing. I’d have to reevaluate why I proposed a friendship.

“I care because you kissed me. Then you dropped the virgin bomb. Then I found you naked in a room with a man. I’m curious how that happened.”

That was all the honesty she was getting from me. I wasn’t about to tell her that feeling her lips on mine was an experience I wished I could repeat. Or that I’d liked how her body felt pressed up against mine. Or that the visual of her perky tits and toned body were forever seared into my memory. And there was no chance in hell I’d ever admit my dick hardened at the mere recollection. Lastly, I’d certainly never acknowledge there was something about her as a person that called to me so deeply, I did shit on purpose to push her away.

“I’ve known Willy for a long time. He’s an artist and has his first gallery show coming up soon and needed to finish one last pencil sketch he’s displaying. It wasn’t the best timing, but I figured we only needed about fifteen minutes and no one would notice I was gone. So, we used the guesthouse.”

“I’m not tracking. What does that have to do with you taking your clothes off?”

“He sketches nudes.”

“Come again?”

“Nudes. You know, he draws men and women without clothes. Nudes.”

“What in the actual fuck, Erin? You cannot have someone draw you naked.”

“And why the fuck not, Colin? I’m an adult, in case you’ve forgotten. I can consent to anything I want.”

Was she insane? There were plenty of reasons I could give her. None of which would matter, but the biggest one was I didn’t want anyone seeing Erin naked, let alone a gallery full of people. What if someone purchased the drawing and displayed her fully exposed in their home? Hell no!

“Your father for starters. You have a responsibility—”