Rosemary and Lenora share a conspiratorial look. Rosemary is the one who speaks up, but she keeps her voice low and hushed, as if she wasn’t just blurting to the entire salon about my sex life. “Listen, Pippa dear,” she whispers. I wonder if she can even hear herself over the sound of the dryers. “God will still love you if you test-drive a little.”
My eyes close as I realize this will be the moment I die from embarrassment. Right here at the Tame Mane because some old lady told me God will still love me if I don’t wait until marriage. I don’t tell her that I’m hardly a virgin. I might as well be one, however, because no one can give me as good of an orgasm as I can give myself.
“Noted,” I squeak. I’m totally mortified. There’s got to be twenty women in here between the hairstylists and customers. And all of them are here to bear witness to my sex life—or should I say lack thereof.
“Oh!” Rosemary cheers excitedly, slapping her magazine against her lap. “Have you met the man who just moved in right next door to you? He looks like he’d be the perfect sin!”
“I think I’d rather be celibate,” I mutter under my breath. The only person who hears it is Rhonda. She gives me a questioning look. I don’t blame her. Camden looks like the perfect option. I’m sure he’s not a two-pump-and-done kind of guy. His jerk of a personality is the problem.
“What’s that?” Lenora yells, sitting forward slightly. Her forehead bumps against the bowl of the dryer. She tries to swat it away, but it doesn’t work. “You said you and him have already boinked?”
“No!” I screech, sitting forward so quickly I almost fall out of my chair. “Definitely not. Never going to happen.”
“You had a hot encounter with the new art owner?” Rosemary asks, equally as loud as her friend.
I didn’t think it could get any worse, but it does. It totally does because I know this town, and I know even if I stood on my chair and addressed every single person in here to tell them Camden and I most definitely have never slept together, the rumors would still spread like wildfire, thanks to Rosemary’s outlandish question.
This can’t be happening. I begin to think of what alias I’ll live under when I move halfway across the country. I always wanted to be named after a princess when I was younger. Could I pass as an Ariel? Or maybe Aurora? What was Snow White’s name again? Was it just Snow White?
I’m spiraling over names of princesses when the tap on my shoulder by Rhonda brings me back to attention.
I look up to find all of the eyes in the salon pointed right at me. “Sorry, I was thinking about work,” I lie. “What’d I miss?”
“I was telling them that the new businessman definitely isn’t your type. And that I thought I saw you out at Slopes with Chase not too long ago.”
“Right,” I answer. I could hug her for rerouting the conversation. While I did enjoy a night out with Chase, the sex definitely wasn’t anything to gush over. The night was fun, and I enjoyed flirting after going through everything with losing my mom, but Chase had finished in under a minute. When he’d asked me if I came, I’d lied because at that point, I was over it.
The ladies here don’t have to know that, though. I’d much prefer them to think I was sleeping with just about anyone else in this town other than Camden.
“Are the two of you dating, then?”
“Never,” I scoff. “Camden is not my type.”
Rosemary smirks. “I meant you and Chase.”
Shit.
I bite my lip, trying to think of a way to cover my oops. “Obviously.” I nervously laugh, well aware that I’m not playing it cool in the slightest. “We’re, uh, just friends,” I answer, telling the truth. I don’t need to elaborate that Chase has called multiple times to go on a date, but I’m not interested. It’s not worth my time to get ready and leave my house if my vibrator can get the job done better than he can.
“What a shame,” Lenora announces sadly. Her forehead wrinkles, becoming even more pronounced. As if my dating life should matter to her.
“You should go after one of the Livingston boys.” This comment comes from Rhonda. Traitor. Everyone might’ve been ready to move on from my dating life as the topic of conversation until she brought it right back up.
The Livingstons own a majority of this town. They’re essentially a founding family of Sutten, and their real estate company, founded by some great-great-grandfather—or maybe there’s a few more greats—has helped them own so much of the land and properties here. There are four Livingston boys, but from my understanding, only two are single. I’m not interested in either. The family is slightly intimidating.