Page 21 of The Girlfriend Card (Vegas Sin #4)

Safe to say, after how mad Leo seemed at first, I was surprised. “Wow. Uh. Why the change of heart?”

“It’s not a change of heart,” he said. “This is what we’ve always discussed: public relationship, but private love life. Just like I don’t want my dad to know what my love life is like behind closed doors? Your dad doesn’t need to know what your love life is like, either.”

“I’m … surprised you feel that way,” I mumbled. “I really thought you were mad.”

“I’m not mad at all. And the way I see it, you couldn’t pick a better side piece than a pro athlete.”

“Why’s that?”

“They’re tall, incredibly fit, and insatiably horny. They’re essentially human fuck machines who will pound your mind into oblivion.”

I snickered.

“The only downside,” he continued, “is the fact that you cannot possibly expect them to be faithful, because they’re unable to turn down the ass that is constantly being thrown at them from every angle.

But considering your situation, that’s not even a negative—if anything, it’s a plus.

That’s exactly what you should be looking for in a side piece. ”

That sounded so awful—stuck in a fake arranged marriage, with an unfaithful “lover” who could only fulfill sexual needs. That wasn’t what I wanted at all. Why did everyone have such a hard time grasping what I really wanted? Was it really so rare, so impossible?

I tried not to frown, but Leo could sense my dread.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I murmured. “Anyway, it’s pointless to even discuss, because Dakota’s done with me.”

“Already? How do you know?”

I waved my phone in the air. “I was texting him while you were out on the balcony. He basically told me he’s not interested, because he thinks I’m a lying, crazy, cheating bitch.”

“Why would he care if you’re cheating? Unless he’s in love with you or something.”

I clicked my tongue. “Definitely not that. We only just met today, really.”

“Then he shouldn’t care even if you are ‘cheating.’ Most guys wouldn’t care. They just want a warm, gooey, tight hole to stick their dick in, you know?”

“ All guys?”

He nodded in the affirmative. “And I can’t imagine a pro hockey player is any different. If anything, he’s even worse. Athletes are normal guys on steroids. Literally and figuratively.”

“Welp. That sucks …”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I don’t want that. I want more than just sex.”

“Tavi.” Leo chuckled uncomfortably. “You are aware Dakota was just trying to get between your legs, right?”

I felt stupid and shameful. Of course he was right.

“I guess I got caught up in the moment,” I said with a sigh.

“With a guy like him, it’s understandable.”

“Things were moving pretty fast. I didn’t even have time to think about it, really.”

Leo nodded. “That’s how it is with the really smooth ones. You get swept up in the moment, then he’s inside you, and then bam, he’s gone from your life. Never to be seen or heard from again.”

Disappointment stirred in the pit of my stomach.

“Wow, I can’t believe I almost did that with him,” I grumbled.

“I always thought I’d want to get to know the guy for a long time first, and take everything really slowly, you know?

But … with Dakota … well, he seemed so confident and knew exactly what to do, which was so sexy and attractive, that I kinda just decided in the spur of the moment that I wanted it.

But maybe it’s best to keep waiting? I don’t know. ”

“Hold up.” Leo stared at me, his eyes narrowing. “Keep waiting for what?”

I fidgeted with my hands. “Er. You know. My first time.”

At first, Leo showed no reaction—it took a few moments to sink in. Then his jaw dropped. “You’re still a virgin?”

“Well … yeah? ”

“Tavi! Still? ” He bubbled with laughter. “I thought for sure you’d be getting stuffed with cock at Stanford!”

“ Stuffed?! ” I squealed. “Gross! And no!”

“Hold on, didn’t you tell me the other day that you had a few flings?!”

“Yes, and I did,” I mumbled. “They just … didn’t lead to sex.”

“Then that’s not a fling.”

“So there has to be sex for it to be called a fling?”

He bobbed his head. “Absolutely, yes.”

“If it’s not a fling, then what should I call it?”

“A thing.”

“Fine. I had a few things at college. But no flings.”

“And now you’ve had a thing with Dakota.”

“Yeah, well, I think that’s over.”

Leo, growing silent, looked to be in deep thought.

“I’m sorry I never popped your cherry, Tavi,” he said out of nowhere.

I laughed. Hard. “God, are you kidding? If you had, I think I’d be even more messed up, knowing what we both know now.”

“But at least if you’d gotten it over with, you’d realize how much you’re not missing out on. You’d be content to spread your legs for guys like Dakota, let him paint your insides with his seed, and move on to the next horny idiot without any messy feelings getting in the way.”

I gasped, both shocked and amused by his perspective. “Leo!”

“No, really,” he insisted, chuckling along with me. “It’s true.”

Amidst our laughter, though, a tinge of reflection sliced through me. Leo’s words were convincing, amusing, and funny. I knew they likely held truth for many people. But deep down, I couldn’t ignore a nagging feeling.

That’s still not what I want out of my life.

And if being jaded, and accepting a life of superficial encounters, were prerequisites to being “happy” in an arranged marriage?

Then I still didn’t want it.

Leo and I continued to make each other laugh, having patched up our agreement. But deep down, I felt more alone than ever.