I raise an eyebrow. “Seal the deal?”
“Oh, do you prefer, bang you till you scream? Take your V-card?”
I laugh, but it’s rueful. “I have to admit you’re right, even if I don’t want to hear it. I’m scared of waking up in five years, alone and still afraid to go after what I want.” My face heats. “Still a virgin.”
“Heaven forbid,” Daisy says, making the sign of the cross. “Well then, what do you want?” She rests her head in her hand and watches me.
I stare at my now half-empty coffee as if it holds the answers to her question. “I want someone to love and to care about,” I say slowly. “I want someone I can watch movies with and cuddle, not just text reactions to each other. I want someone to hug when I wake up and make breakfast with, and someone who will hold my hand when we walk down the street.”
“You want a boyfriend, babe.”
I bite my lip and nod.
“And you aren’t going to find that with a guy who won’t even tell you his real name.” Daisy points accusingly at my phone.
I wince because I know she’s right.
“Drunk Olivia knew what she was doing. You may not be happy with the results, but at least you did something. Going after your dreams isn’t easy, and it can be messy.”
At seeing my expression, Daisy leans over and gives me a hug. “I’m sorry, hon. Is that too harsh? What do I know? Maybe he’s not texting because he’s going to fly to your side and surprise you.”
I side-eye her because, hello, reality.
She shrugs. “Or not. Regardless, Aunty Daisy will make it all better. What you need is a guy who’s real. You’re just hung up on this online dude because you’re afraid to take a chance on a real man, someone who could really hurt you.” She grins. “Someone who could fuck you.”
It isn’t the first time Daisy has told me this. And she’s probably right. Since Nanna first got sick all those years ago, when I wasn’t working at the bookshop or in class, I was home, caring for my grandmother and writing.
It was easier to have a guy friend who was on the other side of a screen. I never had to put on cute clothes, do my hair, feel self-conscious, or even leave the house to hang out with him. I was bullied and harassed when I developed early as a tween, so I’ve never felt completely comfortable around boys. With Remington, I never had to be vulnerable or go outside my comfort zone.
But I also never got a full-fledged relationship either. Or swoon-worthy kisses. Damn, I wanted those. So much.
In some ways, I’m old beyond my years. But in others, I have no experience. I feel like an awkward kid with a crush.
I’m still thinking about what Daisy said when I finish my shift in the afternoon. I wave goodbye to Audrey and step outside, breathing in the crisp June San Francisco air. Despite the bright blue sky and sun, I wrap a scarf around my neck against the wind.
I take out my phone to check my messages for the hundredth time today. Nothing from Remington. Fuck it. Drunk Olivia may have been a fool. But Sober Olivia will guard her heart better. And find a man I can kiss who wants to kiss me back.
With that vow, I step off the curb to cross the road. I turn and freeze as a bike messenger speeds around the corner, straight at me. Our shocked gazes meet for a split second before I register a screech of tires. My phone flies out of my hand as I brace for a crushing impact. The world switches to slow motion. Images of my life flash one after another. A high-pitched scream engulfs the air as I hit the pavement. Searing pain splits my skull. Something warm and wet seeps through my hair at the back of my head.
This can’t be the end. I haven’t even lived. Or had sex.
Shit. I can’t die a virgin. It’s my last desperate thought. And then there’s nothing.
CHAPTER 7
Olivia
My eyes open to a bright light. I immediately close them against the glare. Did I die? Was the light I saw the light? The one I’m supposed to walk toward at the end of my life?
Then my other senses kick in. The sounds of traffic, honking, someone yelling. The noises become clearer, like a camera coming into focus.
And that’s when I know. I won’t die a virgin. I’ll live another day to hopefully, someday, somehow, get laid.
“Olivia! Olivia! You can do it. Open your eyes, honey.”
Daisy?
I squint one eye open and a searing pain splits my skull, but I force myself to open the other eye. Everything floods through me in a rush of sensory overload. The sun overhead, two faces peering down at me, warm, rough…pavement? I groan.