Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Turning toward him, I just come out and ask, “How many girls have you slept with?”
His lips edge into a powerful grin the same time his eyes go big in surprise. “That’s unexpected.”
“You’re leaving in two months. There’s no reason to be shy or wait around for the hard-hitting questions.” It’s not like I’ll ever be able to talk to him while he’s foraging in the woods. And maybe something good can come out of knowing he’s not sticking around. I don’t have to worry about pushing him away or being too nosy or not doing the right things.
“You really want to do hard-hitting questions tonight?” His eyes dance over mine.
I nod. “Yeah, I want that.” I want to know all about him. Everything. And I know it’ll be more painful when he vanishes from my life, but at least I got to say I knew him…and he knew me.
He shuts the laptop and sets it on the end table. When he twists to face me, he says, “Twelve. You?”
I can’t stop my eyes from bugging.
He reads me. “That surprises you?”
“Yeah, but not why you might think. Our numbers are the same. Mine’s twelve too.”
“Not including head,” he clarifies.
Flush burns my neck. “I didn’t include it. Did you?”
“No.” He’s not balking or wincing or grimacing. He’s nodding, thinking it over. “A lot of mine were just casual hookups at parties. Only a few were girls I dated briefly in high school.”
“Did you enjoy it?” I wonder, doing my best not to visualize him hot and heavy with someone else.
“The sex? Yeah,” he smiles. “But honestly, I never really had a meaningful connection with anyone I’ve slept with. I don’t think I let anyone get to know me enough to feel that.” He holds his bent knee. “It was very surface level. Tip of the iceberg.”
Feeling way more forward, I ask him, “What do you call this?” I motion between us.
“Not that,” he murmurs, as though what we share is a fragile thing he’s cradling. “We’re below the iceberg. In the water.”
“The hypothermic water?”
His smile rises. “I’ll keep you warm, Fisher.”
I bite my lip, feeling the start of my smile. “I think I’ll let you, Friend.”
His gaze clasps mine so tightly. “I’ve never been this open with someone who’s not family.”
It stirs so much emotion inside me, but I plow through it to ask, “Are you scared of the thirteenth girl? The thirteenth lay? It being the unluckiest number and all.”
Ben laughs. “Yeah, I don’t believe in that. Now, Tom, might freak out if he ever hits thirteen.”
“You don’t think he already has?”
“No.” His brows scrunch. “Tom doesn’t really sleep around. He used to talk about this one Russian-American guy he’d hook up with consistently. I think his name was like RJ or something, but I’m not even sure they’re a thing anymore. He hasn’t really brought anyone home that I’ve seen.” He knocks his knee into mine. “You scared of the thirteenth guy?”
I shake my head. “I’d be freaked out all the time if I was scared of the number thirteen.” I explain, “I was born on the thirteenth. October thirteenth, so I guess you’ll be here for my birthday, Cobalt boy.”
His smile grows. It almost beckons mine to surface again. “Looks like thirteen is lucky for us then.”
I knock my knee back into his. “Don’t jinx it.”
“But I thought you weren’t superstitious,” he teases.
“Not unless you give me a reason to be.”
“Fair.” His eyes skim me in a slow-burning caress. “How was your first time? Did you like it?”
“Physically, it hurt,” I say into a shrug. “A senior I had a crush on invited me over to his house, and we hooked up on the floor in his basement because he was nervous about getting cum on the couch. He let me spend the night afterward, and I slept on the comfiest La-Z-Boy chair, so I thought he was sweet.” I adjust my back on the pillows, and my foot slides against Ben’s calf. He leans closer to me while we talk, and the air thickens for a hot second. “What about your first time?”
“It was typical. I was fifteen, and we went back to her place after Homecoming. Her parents were out of town, and we had sex in her bedroom. On her bed.” He flashes me a smile that heats my core, and my lips threaten to match his. “I wasn’t invited to spend the night though. She was nervous about her parents coming home early and finding me in her room.”
“Did you date?” I wonder.
“Short stint, just casually in high school for four months. She broke up with me when I refused to bring her to a Wednesday Night Dinner.”
He’s told me about those. Though, I’d heard of them before. I mean, it’s a proper noun with its own Wiki page. Wednesday Night Dinner. All caps.