At 23, Morgan is a little behind other women her age when it comes to dating and relationships. More specifically, she’s a virgin. Dating wasn’t a priority in high school and college, but now that Morgan has a job and her own apartment, she’s ready to jump back into the dating scene.
When Morgan’s friends at work inform her that most men expect sex on the third date, she panics. She’s convinced her lack of experience will be a total turn-off for guys and make for a really awkward third date. Her friends tell her to just do it with a random guy to get it over with, but Morgan isn’t sure that’s what she wants.
When she meets a guy she’s certain is her dream man, she’s ready to lose it on their third date. But doing so isn’t as easy as she thought. And then there’s the fact that she can’t get another guy out of her head.
Through a series of mishaps and misunderstandings, Morgan eventually finds herself at a place she wasn’t expecting, but the place she wanted to be all along.
When Morgan’s friends at work inform her that most men expect sex on the third date, she panics. She’s convinced her lack of experience will be a total turn-off for guys and make for a really awkward third date. Her friends tell her to just do it with a random guy to get it over with, but Morgan isn’t sure that’s what she wants.
When she meets a guy she’s certain is her dream man, she’s ready to lose it on their third date. But doing so isn’t as easy as she thought. And then there’s the fact that she can’t get another guy out of her head.
Through a series of mishaps and misunderstandings, Morgan eventually finds herself at a place she wasn’t expecting, but the place she wanted to be all along.
Excerpt #1
“Okay, here’s the deal. I’m ready to date but I’m kind of lacking in
experience.” I wait for their response but they say nothing, so I continue.
“What I mean is that I haven’t done the things that you’re claiming men expect
on a date.”
“Wait a minute.” Kayla sets her wine glass down. “Are you saying
you’re a virgin?”
“Yes.” I sit up straighter, the wine boosting my confidence. “I’m a
23-year-old virgin.”
“Hold on.” Kayla puts her hand up like she’s stopping traffic. “How is
that possible? I mean, I know you haven’t dated much but—”
“Don’t listen to her,” Paige says. “I think it’s sweet. And romantic.
You’re saving yourself for marriage. A lot of people do that. Good for you,
Morgan.” She raises her glass as if we should toast to my virginity.
I ignore her raised glass. “No, I’m not saving myself for anything. In
fact I really just want to get the whole sex thing over with, especially now
that I know men are expecting it by the third date.”
“That’s not true for all men,” Paige assures me.
“It’s all men.” Kayla pours herself another glass of wine. “So how
could this not happen in college?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t go to many parties and I didn’t live in the
dorms. I lived at home with my dad, so it just didn’t happen. Plus, I never
made it past the first couple dates with a guy. I wasn’t interested enough in
any of them to . . . you know.”
“If you can’t even say the word, you’re not going to be able to do
it.” Kayla jumps up and starts pacing the floor. “Okay, we can fix this. I can
find you a guy who would be more than happy to take care of this for you.”
“She’s not getting her car fixed here.” Paige shoots a dirty look at
Kayla, then turns back to me. “You need to find someone who cares about you.
Someone who will make this memorable for you.”
“I don’t know if I want it to be memorable. I think I might just want
to forget it after it happens and move on.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you should do,” Kayla says. “My first time
was prom night junior year with this guy I was dating. I made it into this huge
deal and then it was over in like a minute. And he dumped me the next week. So
trust me, the first time sucks. You just want to get it over with.
“You should really think about this some more.” Paige uses her
mom-tone, soft-spoken and concerned. “You’ve waited this long. What’s the
rush?”
“I’m not in a rush. And I’m not saying I need to race out and have
sex. I just need to start dating. But if this third-date rule is a real thing,
or even if it’s four or five dates, then I don’t know what to do. I’m
completely inexperienced.”
Kayla takes some cheese from the tray and plops down on the couch.
“Just have sex and get it over with. I’ve already got someone in mind for you.
I’ll see if he’s free Friday night.”
“Friday night? As in this Friday night? That’s so soon. I don’t
think I can do that.”
Kayla gets up, grabbing her purse. “You can do it. I’ve gotta go.”
“Morgan, don’t listen to her. You’re not going to have sex with a guy
just to get it over with. And you’re not doing it with some random guy.”
“Paige is right, Kayla. That’s just not me. I at least need to know
the guy.”
“That’s why you’ll go to dinner first.” Kayla’s at the door, but she
turns back and says, “Show me your underwear drawer.”
“What? Why?”
She races to my bedroom. I run to catch up with her, Paige following
behind.
Kayla opens my top drawer and pulls out one of my bras. She holds it
up. “What is this? Polyester? Beige? It doesn’t even have wires in the cups. No
wonder you always look so saggy. Where do you even buy something like this?”
“They come in a two-pack,” I mumble. “You can get them anywhere.”
Paige stares at my beige bra, dangling in the air. “Um, maybe you
could get one or two new ones. I could go shopping with you if you want.”
I snatch my bra from Kayla. “But these are really comfortable. And I
don’t need that much support. I’m not exactly large-chested.”
Kayla takes it back and checks the size. “34C? That’s not small. You
need new bras. Just throw this one out.” She tosses it on the floor and reaches
in my drawer again. “Paige, look at this. It gets worse.” Kayla holds up a pair
of my underwear. Pink cotton high-cut briefs.
“What’s wrong with those?” I try to grab them but she holds them high
in the air. “They’re cut high up on the hip. They’re sexy.”
“You tell her.” Kayla says to Paige. “You’re better at saying things
nicely.”
Paige looks at the underwear, then back at me. “Well, I kind of wore
ones like that back in middle school. Not that you can’t wear them. I mean, you
could work out in them, I guess. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt if you got
something a little more, um, appealing to the opposite sex. Maybe something
that doesn’t come in a pack of six.”
“What do you wear?” I ask her. “You’re married. You shouldn’t
care what your underwear looks like.”
“I’m married, but I still want to look sexy.” She unzips the side of
her skirt to reveal her silky black bikinis. “These are my weekday ones. I have
better ones for the weekend.”
Kayla keeps snooping in my drawer. “That’s all you have in here? You
don’t even have one decent pair of underwear? There isn’t even any variety.
They’re all the same style.”
“I stock up every year during the back-to-school sales.” My voice
trails off as I realize how pathetic that sounds. I’ve been buying
back-to-school underwear! The kind meant for tweens! The kind that’s sold in
six packs! “All right. Maybe I could use some new ones.”
Kayla tosses my underwear back in the drawer and closes it up. “I’ve
gotta go. But we’ve got some work to do.”
Excerpt #2
I head down to the gift shop, hoping and praying it’s not full of
people. Luckily, it’s empty because the lunch session is still going on in the
main ballroom.
I search the shop for condoms but can’t find them anywhere. They have
everything else; toothbrushes, combs, aspirin, shower caps, tampons,
toothpaste.
The young woman working the cash register sees me searching the store
like I’m on some type of scavenger hunt.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
The woman is in her twenties and has reddish-blond hair that hangs in
loose waves several inches past her shoulders. She has huge breasts and is
wearing a short black dress that shows off her long legs. I’m just guessing
here, but I would say she’s probably not a virgin. Which means she’s likely
found herself in need of condoms before and wouldn’t judge me for buying them
at a hotel.
I go up to her and speak softly. “Do you sell condoms here?”
She looks surprised. I’m suddenly offended. Do I look like someone who
would never need condoms? I’m no beauty queen but I’m not exactly ugly.
“We keep them back here.” She reaches under the register and opens a
drawer. “How many do you need?”
How many do I need? How many does she think I need?
“Um, just one.”
She gives me a strange look. “They come in packs of three or more.”
“Oh, okay. Three is good.”
“Do you want ribbed, flavored, sensitive, extra sensitive, for her
pleasure, glow in the dark?”
I had no idea there were so many different types of condoms. I’ve
never actually shopped for condoms.
She continues. “For flavored we have cherry, citrus, grape—”
“No. Just plain. No flavors. No glow in the dark. No ribbing.”
“So do you want sensitive? Extra sensitive? For her—”
I hear people starting to leave the ballroom, coming out into the
lobby.
“I don’t know. Just give me whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
“For her pleasure.” She holds the package up and smiles. “Why should
guys have all the fun, right?” She punches something in the register. “Should I
charge it to your room?”
I imagine myself giving the accounting department at work a copy of my
hotel receipt with a charge for condoms on it. I’m sure it would just say ‘gift
shop’ but with my luck, you never know.
“I’ll just pay with cash. How much is it?”
“With tax, it’s $10.59.”
“For three condoms?”
She shrugs. “The hotel jacks up the price. When people are desperate,
they’ll pay anything.”
I search my wallet, which is full of ones for some reason. She notices
and looks away. Great. Now she probably thinks I work at a strip club.
People from the conference are starting to linger and talk outside the
gift shop. I count my money and find that I only have nine ones. That’s it. I
hand her my credit card but she doesn’t take it.
“Sorry, but our machine is down. It’s cash only or I can charge it to
your room.”
“I only have $9. I have to run to the ATM. I’ll be right back.” As I’m
closing my wallet, my change spills out and goes all over the floor. I bend
down to pick up the scattered pennies, nickels, and dimes.
“Let me help you with that.” I look up and see Brad picking up the
change.
Shit! What is he doing here? Where did he come from?
“Thanks, but you don’t need to help,” I say, urging him to leave.
He picks up the last penny. “I think we got it all.”
We both stand up and he gives me the change.
“Are we still meeting for drinks tonight?” he asks.
Cashier girl is observing the scene and I feel her staring. I glance
over and see her checking Brad out. I’m sure she can tell from my blushing face
that he’s the reason I need the condoms. She smiles at me, as if reassuring me
that Brad is worth the ridiculous price they charge for them.
“Yeah. I’ll see you then. I’ve gotta go.” I race out of the gift
shop.
As I’m leaving, cashier girl calls after me. “What about your stuff?
Are you coming back with your money?’
I ignore her and hurry back to my room. The whole scene was fate
telling me not to do this. I’m not ready. Or Brad’s the wrong guy. Something’s
wrong. Buying condoms should not be that hard!
Excerpt #3
“Serena?” A deep voice wakes me from my thoughts.
I look up and see a man standing next to my table, holding his hand
out. He has jet black hair and deep brown eyes and he’s smiling at me. But
since my name isn’t Serena, I’m guessing he’s meeting a blind date here and
thinks I’m her.
I take a moment to consider my options. What if I just pretended to be
this Serena girl? Doing so would certainly qualify as being adventurous. But
then Serena wouldn’t have a date. But I’m sure she could find another one. With
a name like Serena, I bet she gets tons of dates. Serena sounds exotic. The
name alone would draw a man in. Morgan, on the other hand, sounds like a last
name. Or the name of a company. It’s dull, practical, and not the least bit
exotic.
“Excuse me. Are you Serena?” He asks it again.
“Um, yes. Have a seat.” The words come out of my mouth before I can
stop them.
“I’m Luke.” He smiles and sits in the chair next to me. “It’s nice to
meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
“Can I get you a drink?” He’s still smiling, his teeth sparkling
white.
“No, thank you. Water’s fine.”
“So Jackie said you work at the agency?”
Agency? What agency? I stare at him, not sure how to answer. And then
I come to my senses.
What the hell I am doing? This is crazy! I can’t pretend to be someone
else. Steal someone’s date. I really need to get a life. And a date. A real
date, not someone else’s.
“I’m sorry. I’m not Serena.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I’m not Serena. I’m not your date.”
“I don’t understand.” He sits back in his chair, trying to get some
distance from me now that he knows I’m insane.
“I was just pretending to be. Sorry. You just surprised me when you
came up to my table and—”
“Yeah, okay.” He stands up and shoves his chair back in place. He
almost seems mad or maybe he’s afraid of me. “Good luck with everything.”
He takes off to the hostess stand.
Good luck with everything? What does that
mean? Good luck ever finding a date? A man? A life?
I watch as a tall brunette approaches him. She’s wearing a red dress
and three-inch heels. She’s gorgeous. And exotic-looking, just as I
thought.
The waiter comes back to my table. “Are you ready to order?”
“Yes, I’ll have a vodka tonic.”
“Um, okay.” He seems surprised, given that I turned down the wine
earlier. Now I’ve skipped straight to the hard liquor. “Would you like anything
to eat?”
My eyes are still on Luke and Serena. They even sound like a couple.
Like one of those couples on a soap opera who are rich and always look perfect
and have sex all the time.
Luke escorts her to the bar, his hand on her lower back as he whispers
something in her ear.
“Ma’am?” The waiter’s still standing there. “Are you going to order?”
I sigh and look back at my menu. “Do you have burgers here?”
“We have a prime rib burger with a portobello mushroom sauce.”
“I’ll have that.” As he turns to leave, I say, “And bring TWO
vodka tonics.”
“So someone IS joining you?”
I scowl at him.
“Oh. Sorry.” He scurries off to the kitchen.
This is the last time I eat alone at a restaurant. Okay, maybe it’s
not the last time, but I’m never going to a date restaurant again.
I should’ve stayed home and eaten one of the meals in my freezer in
front of the TV.
Maybe I’m not ready to be adventurous.
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