Because I'm Disposable by Rosie Somers Page B

not to break an ankle. Or my neck.
    The doorbell rang at exactly 6:59 PM. Corrine leapt to her feet and scrambled for the door. She was out of the room and halfway down the stairs faster than I’d seen her move in weeks. By the time I made it out onto the landing, she was greeting Link and urging him in the front door.
    “Thanks, I’m okay,” he told her when she tried to tug his coat from his shoulders. “I’ll just hold on to …” His eyes locked onto me as I descended the stairs. The intensity of his stare had me once again brushing nervous fingertips over the hem of my skirt to make sure I wasn’t showing anything higher up than my thighs. He crossed the entryway and met me as I stepped off the last stair.
    His eyes lowered to my lips, and his head dipped. For one fleeting moment, I thought he was about to kiss me.
    Then Corrine cleared her throat. Link took a step back, but grabbed my hand in his. Corrine followed on our heels like an excited puppy, and produced a thick, black wrap-around sweater. Link helped me put the sweater on, then led me to the door and opened it for me. He almost shut her nose in the door once we were on the other side of it. Without a doubt, my sister would be waiting up for me when I got home, wanting to know all the sordid details—and even the boring ones.
    Link placed a steady hand at the small of my back and guided me to his truck. Before I could reach for the passenger door handle, he reached around me to open it.
    “Thanks,” I mumbled and took care not to flash him anything inappropriate as I climbed in. The door slammed shut. Was this guy for real? He stood when I entered a room, opened and closed doors for me. Looked at me like I was the most expensive treasure he’d ever seen.
    He grazed me with that reverent look when he got into the driver’s seat, then focused on starting the engine and pulling out onto the road. Wh y was he being so nice to me—did he want something? He could be trying to get into my pants. The thought sent disappointment plummeting through me. It would be my luck. The first male to ever—in my entire life—show me any kindness would be in it for the goods.
    I turned toward him on the bench seat. His hair was perfectly styled into short spikes , and his brown leather bomber jacket looked brand new. His lips were puckered and his brows drawn in concentration, but then his features relaxed as we pulled up to a stop light. He turned to me with a toothy grin, like he was about to say something cute.
    “I’m not going to have sex with you.” I cut him off before he could speak.
    His smile died a slow, confused death, and his eyes widened. Then, “Well, that’s good. They’d probably kick us out of the theater if you tried.”
    I snorted. The boy had jokes. “I meant in general. If you’re being nice to me because you think I’ll be an easy lay, you’re barking up the wrong virgin.” The light turned green.
    Link steered through the intersection and pulled into the parking lot of Mill’s Bakery, already closed for the night. He shifted into park and turned to face me, propping one jean-clad knee up on the seat between us. A blush so deep it was clear even in the moderate darkness crept across his face. I’d embarrassed him. “Callie, I don’t want to sleep with you.”
    No. I’d embarrassed myself. “Oh.” I tried to turn away from him, but he gripped my arm with gentle fingers.
    “No, wait! I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you’re sexy, yeah. But, I want more than an easy lay.” Those fingers slipped down to wrap around my own. His hand was warm and soft on mine, comforting. Loving. He was being too sweet; I was feeling too awkward.
    I had to break the spell. “You want a difficult lay?”
    Link chuckled and faced forward. Mission accomplished. He put the truck back into drive and pulled back out onto the main road. The rest of the drive to the movie theater was spent in awkward silence.
    * * * * *
    My entire body was on edge,