Page 291 of Small Town Firsts

“Cold though,” I mutter, rubbing my hands together for a little warmth.

“You’ll get used to it.” She links her arm with mine. “Where are we meeting Zach again?”

“He said at the wildcat statue.”

“Perfect.” She tilts her head to look at me. “You think any of his friends are single?”

I laugh under my breath. “You’re so boy crazy.”

Stella scoffs. “False. I’m only a little boy crazy. You would be too, if you were me. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get laid with an older brother as protective as mine? Orion is like a freaking pit-bull with Spidey senses. Impossible! Hence how I’m still a freaking virgin!”

“Deep breaths, girl. You’re not going to die with your V-card.”

“I just wanna know what it’s like, you know?”

I try to inhale, but it’s as if there’s an anvil on my chest. “No, not really. My only experience was torture than anything else.”

“Oh, shit. Babe.” Stella stops and pulls me into a crushing hug. “I am so thoughtless. I am so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I tell her, mostly meaning it.

It’s not that I’m against sex or anything.

I’m just petrified by the thought of actually doing it, by the thought of ever willingly being so vulnerable with a man.

It’s really a moot point though, because after Rob, what man would want me anyway? I’m the definition of used goods.

“Twinkies!” Zach’s booming voice cuts through my melancholy. “Well, no. What do you call three twins?”

“Triplets,” Stella deadpans, making us all laugh.

“Seriously, these shirts are gold.” Zach’s grin is so infectious, I find myself cheesing right alongside him.

“We need a pic!” Stella exclaims, and Zach grabs a random passerby to snap one.

The front of our jerseys all read“Ooh that 99, he’s so fine”with a wildcat silhouette. The back has Gabe’s name across the shoulders in glittery gold block letters.

“They are perfect,” I say as we scroll through the photos.

“Right?” Zach laughs. “Gabe’s going to die.”

“He doesn’t know?” Stella asks.

“Nope.”

“This is amazing!”

“C’mon, ladies.” Zach wraps an arm around each of us. “There is tailgating to be done.” He guides us over to where his friends are already partying hard.

“Ooh, cornhole!” Stella murmurs as we pass a group of fit-looking guys tossing beanbags. “You wanna play?”

“Eh.” I shrug. “Hand-eye coordination’s not really my thing.” You’d think as a former cheerleader it would be, but nope. It seems that was the only exception to the rule.

“Do you mind if I go?”

I nudge her with my hip. “Don’t let me stop you from having a good time!”

Stella studies me. “You sure?”

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