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Excerpt:
Confessions
of a Virgin Sex Columnist! – Chapter One
“And
that's not even the best part—they want me, the virgin English major, to write
a column. A dating column. Okay, a sex column…"
My
throat is starting to close, and it's highly possible that hives are breaking
out along my neck. I can’t help but reach a few fingers up to rub at my skin as
I try to swallow, fighting the chalky feeling on my tongue.
"And,
I sort of said yes."
Well,
there it is. I said it. Now do you see?
I'm a
farce. A fake. In my utter desperation to land a job with a full-time salary
(and benefits!), I created the worst situation any hopeful journalist could
ever be in. I'm going to be a reporter who can't report the truth. A liar. A
sham. They'll run me out of the city before my first column is ever printed.
I'll never work in newsprint again. I'll be forced to return home a failure,
begging to oversee the editing of my high school gazette, surrounded by stories
about football games and science projects for my entire life, praying for a
student-teacher affair or drinking scandal to liven things up.
I'll—
"Um,
Skye?"
Did I
say any of that tirade out loud?
"Yeah?"
I call back, pulled from my paranoia.
But
then my heart stops.
I stop.
Time
stops.
Even my
brain stops…for a second anyway.
The
full sound of that voice carries to my ears and it's not Bridget's. It’s not
even a woman's. And I recognize it.
I'd
recognize it anywhere.
"Ollie?"
I squeak.
"Skye…"
he answers. Is it possible for someone's voice to be smiling?
But I
don't believe it—I don't want to believe it. I ask again, hoping for a
different answer. "Oliver McDonough?"
"Skylar
Quinn?" he asks, and I actually hear a snicker this time.
I stand
up and run to the kitchen, tripping over my own feet and throwing my arms
against the wall to keep from falling over as I soar through the opening.
And
there he is.
Six
foot two. Sinfully dark brown hair. Brilliantly turquoise eyes.
Oliver
McDonough.
Bridget's
older brother.
And the
last person I ever wanted to see in the world.
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