Head On (Strength And Love)(23)

She kisses Isla on the cheek. Then click-clacks off into the night with her friends.

“What the fuck was that all about?” I glare down at Isla. I hate Selina being anywhere near her, it reminds me of what I do, and for the first time I hate that, too.

She hitches her shoulders up. “I don’t know, but I think she likes me.”

“Of course, she does,” Luka chimes in. “You’re eminently likeable. Nice to meet you, Isla. I’d kiss your cheek but I’m scared Mr. Neanderthal here will deck me.”

She giggles and Luka heads off down the road waving his hand at us as he goes. He shouts back to me. “I’ll get in touch when it’s done.”

I gave him Rick Smythe’s details while Isla was taking forever in the ladies, and the name of his company. I want to see what’s on the fucker’s phone badly, so I hope Luka can come through. I also hope Rick uses his phone for everything the same way I do. He’s in his fifties though, so maybe not.

We pull up at home, after a mostly silent journey with Isla seemingly deep in thought. I must admit that Luka’s right. She’s getting under my skin, which means I need him to do his stuff quick, so I can sort this out and get her back home. I don’t do relationships, I’m too messed up for that. And I certainly don’t do them with sweet, twenty-one year old virgins. Someone like Selina might work for me, if I ever decide I want to settle down, but never someone like Isla.

She’ll want gentle, boring sex, not just for her first time but forever. And I bet she wants kids, which I’m not sure about. Not with the state of this fucking world. We’re poles apart, and despite the fact I seem to have a permanent hard on for her, we’ve got nothing in common.

I park the car and we head into the house. She’s still quiet and introspective, and I think that’s one thing I like. We’re both quiet. Neither of us chats for the sake of it, unlike my sister. I bet Isla would be relaxing to come home to. I can imagine her curled up on the sofa reading a book, maybe asking how my day went, and then letting me decompress. Not the incessant need to talk like my previous girlfriend. Fucking hell, I’d come back from a literal war zone to three days of non-stop gossip about who was seeing who, who’d been dumped, and who was out of the group. No wonder it didn’t last. I can’t imagine Isla being like that.

Christ. I shake myself. I’ve no fucking business imagining Isla and me at all. None. I throw my keys onto the kitchen table and see a note from Ann.

Hey bro,

Katie has come down with sickness and diarrhoea. It’s supposedly a twenty-four-hour thing that is going around. I am hoping she’ll be okay tomorrow or the day after, but I didn’t want you guys getting it, so I’ve taken her home.

I’ll call you tomorrow.

Ann x

I sense Isla stood next to me and turn to see her reading the note, too. Shit. I don’t want her to feel unsafe.

“Look, I can take you to her house, if you want. So long as you avoid Katie, you should be fine. But if you want to stay here, I swear to you, you’re safe.”

“I want you to take my virginity.”

What the fuck? I stare at her, at a total loss for words. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She nibbles her lip, and her cheeks have two bright spots of colour spreading across them but she holds my gaze.

“No. No fucking way, Isla. What the fuck? I mean…Jesus.” I stalk to the kettle and fill it up, my movements quick and angry.

I need to keep my cool, but fuck me. Angry and confused, I turn to her. “Don’t you remember your words to me earlier. You remember how we met, Ethan.”

“Yes, and I remember your counter. How you spent ages on that woman’s…on her, you know?”

I laugh, but there’s no humour in it. “You can’t even say the word. Say it.”

She flushes more and shakes her head.

“You want me to fuck you? But you can’t say the word pussy?”

“I don’t like the word,” she snaps back.

“Okay then, cunt.”

“Fuck you. That’s a disgusting word.”

Well, at least she said fuck. First time I’ve heard her properly swear.

“How about vagina. Say the word vagina.” I don’t know why I’m still pushing her.

She purses her lips and shoots me daggers with narrowed eyes.

“You can’t say the name for your own sex, but you want to have sex? I say you’re not ready.”

“I am ready. I’m more than ready,” she argues. “I might be a bit shy when it comes to talking about it, or more specifically, I should say, using certain words, but I’m twenty-one years old, and sick of being a virgin.”

“Honey, you need some nice kid your own age to experiment with. The last thing you need is me.”

“Why?”

“Because…I’m not your speed.”

She laughs and glances up at the ceiling before looking back to me. “What do you think my speed is?”

I don’t know why I say the next words. Maybe because I want to push her away, because frankly, she scares me. Maybe because I’m in my kitchen, harder than I’ve ever been in my life from her suggestion. Maybe because I’m not a bastard, and I still have a decent bone in my body and know I need to end this now. “I think your speed is vanilla. Safe. I think your speed is slow, and probably delicate. I’m none of those things. We won’t match.”