Page 20 of The Love Playbook

“I’m not corrupting him, Ellie. For one thing, sex is good and healthy and normal. It’s not corrosive or poisonous, so it can’t cause corruption. And when did you become such a prude anyway? Or are you just jealous because you’re not getting it all the time anymore? Is sexting and video sex not the same?”

She glares at me. “No. It’s not the same at all, and I’m sure it doesn’t take much imagination to figure that out.”

I roll my lips between my teeth to hold back my laughter.

“Come on, El,” Piper says as she enters the living room, purse in hand. “Quit harassing Autumn. She’ll be good for Jackson. He needs to loosen up anyway. And who can blame him for wanting to get with this hot little piece of ass?”

She gestures at me, and I laugh, throwing my arms around her for a hug. “Thanks, Piper. At least someone is on my side.”

“I’m team Autumn too,” Dani announces, coming in behind Piper. “Jackson’s a sweetheart, but he’s far too sheltered if you ask me.”

“That’s saying a lot coming from you,” Ellie retorts, apparently feeling defensive.

“Whoa, there, Ellie.” I hold up my hands and turn to face her. “No need to go after Dani for disagreeing with you.”

Ellie sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “You’re right.” Dropping her hand, she looks at Dani. “I’m sorry, Dani.” Then she turns to me. “And I’m sorry about being bitchy to you, too. You’re probably right that it’s more about jealousy than anything else.” I hold back my snort at her admission, keeping my face bland. She shakes her head. “Have fun with Jackson, okay?”

I return her hug, glad that she’s starting to come around. Because if she were going to bitch about Jackson and me the whole time, that would really put a damper on my fun. And the whole point of getting together with a guy and having sex at all is to have fun.

Once they’re gone, I take a deep breath and head back to the kitchen to check on everything. As I do, my phone alerts with a text.

Jackson: On my way now

Me: Perfect timing. Dinner’s just about ready

Smiling to myself, I set the table with white plates on our burnt orange placemats. We have a variety of dishes, and I like to mix and match when there are more people, but for two, I like the unity and symmetry of having both place settings the same. I light the single red taper between our place settings. Red is for seduction and passion, which should help us out this evening.

I busy myself with cleaning up the remaining trash and dishes lingering on the counters from my dinner prep and my roommates’ last minute glasses of water while I wait for Jackson to arrive.

I’m unaccountably nervous for him to come over, feeling uncertain about what exactly will happen tonight. Normally I’m more confident of a date’s likely outcome, but with Jackson …

Maybe that’s why he’s so thrilling to me. I never know exactly how he’ll be or what I’ll get with him. Is he going to be the shy blushing Jackson who so often appears? Or will I get the more relaxed guy who opens up and talks to me when he feels comfortable?

There’s really no telling. He’s never been here before, so that alone could be enough to make him nervous. But even if he starts out nervous, that happened the other night, and he relaxed once dinner got underway.

I’m hoping that will happen again. Because relaxed Jackson has more confidence and is more okay with initiating conversation and touch.

I plan on leading things a little more tonight. I know that he won’t know what to do if I wait for him to move things beyond just kissing. At least not yet. We’ll get to that point, I’m sure.

The knock on the door stops me short. Taking a deep breath, I smooth my hands down my sleek red tank. It works nicely to dress up the short denim cutoffs I paired it with, a nod to the fact that this is a date, but that we’re at my house so it’s more casual than last time.

I greet Jackson with a big smile when I open the door. “Hey! You made it. Come on in.”

He gives me a smile, his eyes wandering down my body as he enters.

Yessss. Good job checking me out, Jackson.

He’s getting bolder, which I happen to like in a man. I return the favor, taking in his khaki shorts and polo shirt, which seems to strike the same balance of casual while still making an effort. The blue cotton hugs his shoulders and pecs, falling loosely down his torso. Swap his sneakers for boat shoes, and this guy could fit in at the local country club.

Perfect for mussing up after dinner.

“What’s that smile about?” he asks, a teasing note in his voice.

Shaking my head, I close the door behind him, stepping in close for a hug and pulling his face down for a kiss on the cheek. I want him comfortable, which includes being comfortable with me touching him. But I also don’t want to be too forward and scare him off.

“I’m just happy you’re here,” I tell him when I release him and move toward the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready. You hungry?”

He blinks after me as if in a daze, then seems to come to himself and gives me a shy smile. “Always.”

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