Page 13 of Drive Me Wild (Owl Creek #2)

A ll night, I notice Caleb brushing off the women who keep flirting with him, and I’m reminded of what Buzz said last weekend about him spending his time with Cody.

Maybe he really has changed. But why?

Avery and I take a couple of guys up on a pool game. They’re cute in that boyish way, and I have fun flirting with one of them, but when I see Caleb stand up behind him and compare them side by side, I see a stark contrast.

Where these guys are all dimples, purposely messy hair, and ironic t-shirts, Caleb is broad shoulders, muscles built from hard work, and eyes that bore into my soul.

So when the one I’m flirting with asks me for my phone number, I lie and say I’m on the rebound and not ready to date. I tell myself it’s because I need my new band of babes to help me figure out how to be better in bed before I date someone, but deep in my gut, there’s a nagging feeling.

And it has Caleb written all over it.

When we finish our game, I order a round of shots and then slide into the booth next to Renée. I’ve had just enough to drink that I’m feeling bold enough to talk about my problem.

“Alright, ladies, bottoms up!”

We drink our shots, and then I lean forward to ask their advice.

“Can I ask you all a question?”

Renée puts her arm around me. “You can ask us anything you want, bestie.”

I run my finger through the condensation on the table from our last round of drinks.

“How do you…how did you…um…where did you learn to have sex?”

Avery cocks her head to the side. “You mean, like, did we learn it at school?”

“Not sex education. I mean, where did you learn to do stuff? In bed.”

Renée pipes up. “Remember that guy I dated during our senior year of high school?”

“Yeah.”

“I learned from him. He dated Gabby Parson’s older sister—”

“She’s ten years older than us!”

“Yeah. But she taught him what she likes, so he felt free to tell her what he likes, so he knew. You know…what to do and how to ask for what he wanted. I learned a bunch of stuff from him. And let’s just say that Cole is a very happy man.”

Serena was biting her bottom lip like she wanted to say something.

“What about you, Serena?”

“Do you guys promise not to say anything?”

“Of course!” We shouted together.

“Okay.” Her cheeks flush red, and she leans in close. “I took online lessons from a ‘sex-pert’ in New York. She’s like a therapist who helps people with their sex lives. It was super expensive, but I learned a ton.”

We all stare at her with our mouths hanging open. I finally pull it together to stop looking at her like a circus freak.

“Did it help?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t actually had sex since I took the class. I’m sort of waiting for the right guy.”

“What about you, Avery?”

“I don’t have any advice.” She picks at her nail polish.

“Why are you asking, Zoe?” Renée’s eyes are glassy from the alcohol, but I can tell she is super focused on me and my problem.

“I want to be better at sex. And I don’t know how to do that.”

“You have to find someone who you are comfortable with that can show you. Someone you feel safe enough to experiment with.”

Serena nods her head in agreement. Again, Avery says nothing.

“A teacher,” I say it more like a statement than a question.

“Yeah, like my ‘sex-pert.’ Only maybe not her because she’s so expensive, and it takes months to get an appointment. Those guys you played pool with are cute and still here. Try one of them,” Serena offers.

I glance over to where they are sitting, but my eyes catch sight of Caleb, and I let out a sigh. There’s no use thinking of anyone else when he’s around.

“Maybe this is really judgemental of me, but they don’t look like they know much.”

Renée nods. “No. You don’t need one of those boys. You need a man.”

There’s one hell of a man sitting twenty feet away. I’m sure he knows a thing or two .

Serena and Avery walk home together since they live a block apart. Renée and I took my car, but I didn’t feel sober enough to drive yet, so we decided to take a long walk through town. It’s a little chilly, but we huddle together under a blanket I keep in the back.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You haven’t dated anyone for a couple of years. Is that why you were asking about the sex stuff tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s like riding a horse.”

We both double over, laughing so hard we have to wipe the tears from our eyes, and I wonder if this walk is going to sober me up enough to drive.

“I mean a bike. It’s like riding a bike. Just gotta get back on.”

“It’s not because I’m out of practice. It’s because I’ve never been good at it. That’s why Jeremy cheated on me.”

The guy I lost my virginity to back in high school cheated on me after he repeatedly told me that I didn’t turn him on enough in bed.

He said I wasn’t good at it and constantly criticized the way I did everything.

I was embarrassed and didn’t tell anyone what he’d said—not even Renée.

Then I avoided messing around at all because I was paranoid that even after watching a few pornos for guidance, I still sucked at it.

After I found out he cheated, I dated his cousin. But I was so afraid he’d be disappointed too that I told him I was waiting until marriage to have sex.

Then the idiot proposed.

I turned him down and haven’t dated anyone since. That was two years ago, and the more time passes, the more afraid I am that I won’t satisfy my husband and he’ll cheat. Or worse, that I’ll never find a husband in the first place because I suck so bad in the sack.

“Hey.” She turns toward me. “He cheated on you because he’s a cheater. Not because of how you were in bed.”

“He told me I didn’t turn him on.”

“It’s just an excuse for his shitty choices.”

“But what if it’s true?”

“Well, if it is true, and I’m not saying it is, the only way to get good at something is to practice.”

“But I’m afraid to date someone to find out it’s true.”

“What did Jason say when you dated him?”

“Ugh.” My hot breath made steam in the air.

“What?”

“I never had sex with him.”

“What? But he proposed!”

“He proposed because I told him I was waiting until I was married to have sex.”

“So you’ve only had sex with one guy, and he convinced you that you suck in bed.”

“That sums it up.”

“We need to find you a sex-pert.”

Monday morning is here, and I don’t want to go into town. I’ve been thinking about my sex problem all weekend, which has distracted me from making any plans for transitioning out of my business.

But I head to The Daily Dose to do work anyway and then drop by the bookstore to see Mabel.

“Good to see you again, Zoe.” She ushers me into the store and makes me a cup of coffee. “Been keeping busy settling in at the chief’s place?”

“That and trying to figure out what to do about my business.”

“What do you do?”

“I make digital downloads for teachers to use in the classroom. I also have ebooks and tutorials for parents to help with homework and things like that.”

“And you sell this all online?”

“Yup.”

“It’s a very different world than the one I grew up in.”

“That’s actually one reason why my business works. Because parents and teachers don’t know how to navigate the digital world in the same way their kids do. My products help them. Or, they did help.”

“What do you mean, did?”

“Things have taken a turn, Mabel. And to be honest, I don’t want to fix it. I’m putting together a proposal to approach my competitors with a sale offer. See if any of them bite.”

“What will you do once you sell?”

I look around me at all the shelves of books, their crisp bindings and pages of text begging to be cracked open and read.

“I love books. I love how they smell and the weight in my hand when I’m holding one. The promise of an adventure on every page. I was thinking maybe I’d go to college to become a librarian.”

“Why not buy a bookstore instead?”

Her eyes twinkle, and she has a devilish grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I don’t think—”

“You don’t even know how much I’m selling it for. Why don’t you take a look at my accounts and see what you think? You could always rent out some of the bedrooms upstairs for some extra pocket money.”

“I…um…” I stare at her with a dumb look on my face because I can’t think of a single reason why I couldn’t look at her accounts to see how much the place makes. Add that to the fact that my whole body is screaming ‘yes!’ and I nod in agreement.

“Great. I’ll print out the latest numbers for you. Would you like to pick it all up in a couple of days?”

“Sure, but one question first.”

“What’s that?”

“Will you tell me where you buy your coffee beans because this is the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

“It’s good coffee, but I think you have some living to do, my dear.”

We both crack up and she leads me around the store, giving me a tour of the whole building, including the upstairs rooms.

Despite its size, the house is in good condition and very tidy. There are a few things here and there I would change, like the wall color or drapes, but otherwise, I love this house and everything in it.

I thank her and leave, agreeing to stop by before she opens in a few days so she can give me her accounting books.

When I get to Caleb’s shop, he’s busy working, so I wave and slip upstairs. My mind is racing with ideas, even though I don’t know what her sales package will show.

What if she wants way more than I can afford? What if I can’t get a loan?

I spend the morning thinking about what my mother said—that I should just go for it. So I get lost in rabbit holes looking for information online about owning and promoting bookstores and generally neglect to do anything else.

I get up to pour myself a glass of water and notice that Caleb left his cell phone on the kitchen counter. I pick it up to take it down to him when it vibrates in my hand. A text message flashes on the screen.

“I’m in Port Stratton and want a cock-sicle. Interested?”

I freeze on the spot.

Cock-sicle? She must be talking about— my mind flashes to Caleb standing in his bedroom last week, flying half-staff. Only a fantasy emerges of him looking at me with sex in his eyes, and he’s rubbing himself.

He’s rubbing his cock-sicle.

I shake the thought out of my mind and ignore the pooling wetness in my lady parts as I walk down the stairs toward the shop. I find him there under the car with the teenager, explaining something about a chassis.

I stand at the bottom of the stairs, watching before I clear my throat. He turns my way, and a smile that could launch a thousand orgasms greets me.

“You uh…your phone. You forgot your phone upstairs.”

I watch as he wipes his thick hands on the red shop rag, and I swear I hear my vag call out to me in agony.

He grabs it and looks at the screen before shaking his head and tossing the phone on the workbench.

“Aren’t you going to text her back?”

“You saw it?”

“Well, yeah. It vibrated when I carried it down to you, so, you know, knee-jerk reaction and all.”

His eyes graze my skin as I stand in front of him, my nerves pinging and my mind spinning.

“Not interested.”

“But—”

“But what?”

My mind is racing. Why do I care? What do I want him to say?

“Um. Nothing. You know what, it’s your business.”

I turn tail and take the steps two at a time, relieved to shut myself against the heat of his eyes on my back as I retreat. I find my glass of water in the kitchen and down it, then fill it back up before collapsing on the couch.

I’m super turned on and mortified all at the same time, and I worry I’ll never get over my problem so I can meet someone and settle down.

And then a genius idea pops into my head.