Free Burn: A South Beach Bodyguards Book by Erin McCarthy

astonished. “These are your memories.”
    Ryan pursed his lips and flicked the signed photo of a former Miami Dolphins quarterback. Dan Marino. The quarterback with the perm. I had to admit, I wouldn’t mind taking that down.
    “I don’t know,” Ryan said. “Because this is your room now, not mine?”
    “If it bothered me, I would have picked a different room. I don’t like blank walls. I like clutter. History.”
    The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re a sweet girl, do you know that? I suspect that you are sometimes underappreciated by people.”
    That made me flustered. “I don’t know about that.” Unable to look at him, I just went back to my drawer, pulling out some panties and some yoga pants.
    “Did I leave condoms in that dresser?” he asked.
    Yes, he had. They were still there. “I found some and threw them away. They were expired.” I wasn’t sure why I lied. I just didn’t want him to think I was weird. Because I was feeling pretty weird.
    But I was also a terrible liar, as bad as Ryan was. The two of us could never go Bonnie and Clyde, clearly. Ryan came over and moved in beside me. His presence was overwhelming as usual and I started to shift away but he put his hand on my waist and lightly restrained me. It only took him a second of fishing around in the drawer to find a row of condoms, which he held up.
    “I can’t figure you out,” he said.
    “You don’t have to.” I smiled at him. A tight-lipped repressed virgin smile, which was what I was. It seemed fitting.
    “Why didn’t you just toss these or use them?”
    “Because I don’t need them.”
    “You can still get an STD even on the pill.”
    “Oh, my God, why are we having this conversation?” I asked, mortified. “You’re not my father. Don’t worry about it.”
    “But tell me you use condoms.” He was frowning at me. Hell, he was glaring. “Seriously. I just want to hear you tell me you’re being safe.”
    “I’m a virgin, Ryan. I don’t need condoms.”
    For a heartbeat, there was no reaction. His jaw worked, like he was seeking words, but couldn’t settle on any. His brows furrowed. Finally, he said, “What do you mean?”
    That actually made me laugh. “What do you think it means? It means I haven’t had intercourse. Hashtag no penis inside of me.”
    “But… you’re twenty-one years old.”
    Suddenly I felt on more even footing. His astonishment was amusing. I didn’t go around telling people I was a virgin, but those who knew usually reacted pretty similarly, but they hid it better. Ryan looked like he’d taken a two by four to the face.
    “I know how old I am.”
    “And you’re beautiful.”
    That gave me pause. “Thank you,” I said, touched. There was sincerity in his voice. I wasn’t beautiful. I never had been. My face was too round, my features just a little disproportionate. Like I’d told him, I had more of my father in me than my mother, and while my dad was a decent man, classically beautiful he was not. It worked on a man. On me? Not so much. I wasn’t ugly, just… unusual. “But you don’t have to be ugly to be a virgin.”
    “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I just don’t get it. But it’s not any of my business.”
    “It’s not,” I said. Yet I felt like I needed to explain. I wanted to explain because Ryan factored into my thoughts and feelings and life over the last eighteen months. He didn’t know that and maybe I needed to let him know that, just a little. “But the truth is, I just never met the right guy. I didn’t date in high school. In college there have been a few guys but no one that I wanted to be that… intimate with. Maybe that doesn’t make sense to you, but it does to me.”
    None of the guys I had dated had made me feel like Ryan did, and I knew that was ridiculous, but there it was.
    He ran his hand over his face. “Fuck, I feel like such a dirtbag.”
    That startled me. “Why?”
    “Because for the last eighteen hours all I’ve