She breaks away, her breathing shallow, and meets my eyes.

 “I’m hungry.”

 Yes.

 “Can we get pizza?” she asks, pointing to a sign about twenty yards away. “I think we should get pizza.” And then she starts walking.

 Wait. We’re getting pizza?

 What the fuck just happened?

 

 

Fifteen

 Chloe

 What the heck just happened? I think I just tried to dry-hump Boyd’s thigh in public. We were laughing and then we were kissing and then my slutty leg went rogue and now we’re having pizza. Pizza is good.

 “Blue Moose Pizza,” I read off the sign as we approach the restaurant. “What a funny name, don’t you think? Moose aren’t blue. Unless you’re high on pot, right?” I glance quickly at Boyd then away again. “I think. I mean, I’ve never actually been high. Does it work like that? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Pizza!” I grab the door and dash inside.

 Inside, we’re seated at a red-and-white checkered table and given menus. Boyd orders a beer and I order a Moosarita. For real, that’s what it’s called. Then I bury my face in the menu while Boyd stares at me from across the table.

 “What kind of pizza do you want?” I ask him.

 “Whatever you want,” he responds.

 “Buffalo wing pizza?” I ask, still not looking up.

 “Fine,” he agrees and places the order as the waitress drops off our drinks.

 With the orders placed and menus gone, I’ve run out of distractions so I look at him. He looks like he wants to devour me. Pizza was a stupid idea. I should have taken him straight back to our room. What is wrong with me? Freaking social anxiety.

 “So,” Boyd starts and I wet my lips with my tongue and run my eyes over him. He’s so… everything. He’s wearing a lightweight sweater and he’s pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. I love his arms. And his shoulders. And pretty much every bit of him that I’ve felt so far. I bet he’s hung like a horse. No, a moose! I bite my lip to keep from laughing at my own mental joke. Then I frown. What if he’s really huge? I’ve seen a total of three penises, not counting all the POD’s I’ve been sent and they were all sort of similar. You know, different but the same? Like the one curved a little more than the other two—

 “Chloe?” Boyd interrupts my thoughts and I suspect he might have been trying to get my attention for a while.

 “What?” I like his fingertips too, the way they rest against the beer bottle. His index finger rubbing at a corner of the label that’s pulling away from the bottle is turning me on. Big time. Big, big. I shake my head and laugh.

 I want to have sex with Boyd Gallagher.

 I have no idea how to make that happen. Not really. Was I supposed to say something after that kiss? It was just a kiss. A really hot panty-wetting kiss, but still. It’s not an invitation. It doesn’t mean he wants to have sex with me. Or does it? Guys are pretty transparent, right? But Boyd isn’t my high-school boyfriend, who I knew was just waiting for me to give the okay. Boyd isn’t one of the two lanky college boys I played awkward encounter with in semi-lit dorm rooms.

 Boyd is… Boyd. He all but admitted he could have brought a casual date with him to Vail, but it wasn’t worth the hassle of the woman thinking it meant something. So I don’t think Boyd is desperate to have sex with some random horny girl. He must have plenty of options. Easier options than me. Options with savvy sex skills.

 Should I bring it up now? ‘Hey, Boyd, would you like to have sex with me? Perhaps after dinner?’ I tap my fingers on my thigh and realize that my leg is bouncing under the table. Calm down, Chloe. He does seem to be into teaching me though. Maybe I should tell him I need the practice? That’s not even a lie. I do need the practice. My sex skills are not savvy. I wonder if that’s a weird request? I mean, obviously it’s totally weird. But I wonder if he would mind?

 “Chloe,” Boyd interrupt again. “What are you thinking about?”

 “The 420,” I say without missing a beat. Apparently my lying skills are on point. “Are you positive about the 420 thing? I really think the 420 is a highway.”

 “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” he asks quietly, leaning forward a little and pinning me with his eyes.

 “Yup. I’m gonna look it up. I love to look things up. Did you know that? Google is my jam.” I whip my phone out and start tapping. I think I hear Boyd grunt before he takes a sip of beer.

 Chloe: Random question. Did you ever have a sex teacher?

 Everly: Ohhh, like a dirty student-teacher situation?

 Chloe: No, not like that.

 Everly: Are you going to have sex with a teacher? I don’t know if that counts as teacher sex now that you’re no longer a student, but you should still go for it. You can always roleplay if that’s what does it for you.

 Chloe: Not what I meant!!!!

 Everly: No, I never fucked a teacher. Sad. I wonder if I can interest Sawyer in playing naughty schoolgirl with me?

 Chloe: I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing.

 Everly: …

 I stare at the little dots that tell me she’s typing but then they stop. I can almost guarantee she’s shopping for a schoolgirl getup and has forgotten about me.

 Chloe:: HELLO?

 Everly: Sorry. Do you know how many options there are for sexy schoolgirl on the internet? Do you think I’m tall enough to pull off knee-high socks without looking stupid? My legs are not that long.

 “Find anything?” Boyd asks and I almost jump in my seat.

 “Um…” I stall while I abandon my text message with Everly and do a quick search on Interstate 420. “According to Wikipedia, Interstate 420 refers to two highways that were never built. In Georgia and Louisiana. So almost a highway?” I offer with a quick glance in his direction and then back at my phone as I try a new search without the word ‘interstate.’ “Yeah, it means pot all right.” I shake my head. “You are correct.”

 Everly: So what did you think of Boyd?

 Oh, shit.

 Chloe: What are you talking about?