Page 48 of No Interest in Love

“The what now?” I say through a laugh. She ignores me. I tap her foot with another laugh. “So I’m your first…How oldareyou?” I ask, even though I know exactly how old she is.

“Ancient.”

“180. Got it. That’s a long time to never share a bed with a man.”

“Apparently not long enough.”

“Seriously, though, why haven’t you? Never been in a serious relationship or what?”

She sighs. “I’m regretting bringing this up. I thought you were too sick to carry on a conversation.”

“Your voodoo breathing method is working.” I quirk a grin at the ceiling and rest my head on my hands. “And this is distracting me. So please…do tell.”

“It’s not that interesting.”

“I’m interested,” I blurt, and that stomach wave—not the motion sickness but the other thing entirely—kicks up again, and I realize that I’m interested for more reasons than just the distraction. I want to know who’s been in her bed and why the jackass didn’t stick around.

I want to know what’s going on in her bed.

And I don’t know why I care.

“The short version…” Shay starts, reaching down and scratching her leg. Her knuckles hit my belly button, and I suck in because it somewhat tickles. “When I started NYU I lived with my sister, who is a big blabbermouth. My parents are pretty opinionated when it comes to who we’re involved with. Korean background—even though I’m a born and raised Texan—Mom and Dad want a handsome Korean fellow for their daughter. There’s a montage inMy Big Fat Greek Weddingthat could’ve been my life for a while with all the rotating suitors over for dinner and such.”

I laugh because, yeah, I’ve seen that one. It was part of my independent films course.

“Anyway, I was dating this guy—not Korean—and never let him spend the night because my sister, Rae, would spill the beans, and if I spent the night at his place,I’dhave to make something up, which I’ve never been good at.”

Huh. I wonder how long ago this was, because the Shay I’m well acquainted with wouldn’t give a shit and a half about what anyone thought. She’d back up her choices, flaunt ’em around, and even if she knew deep down they were wrong, she’d never admit to it.

“Hmm,” I murmur thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“No, it’s just…It doesn’t sound like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t do that sort of drama. You’re straightforward and shit.”

“And you’re so eloquent.”

I grin in the dark. “See?”

Her body bumps against mine as she laughs. I try to give her more room, but my ass is pressed flat against the window.

“I just don’t have the patience for your crap,” she says.

“What makes me different than your parents?”

“You aren’t…”

She drifts off, and I wait for the rest, but it doesn’t come until I settle my hand on her knee and squeeze. “I’m not…?”

“You aren’t disappointed in me.”

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