I smirk to myself. This is just not working out for me. I am twenty-three. I am a virgin. I am a twenty-three year old virgin. Not that there's anything wrong with being a twenty-three year old virgin but there's really only so much you can do yourself. And around certain times of the month you just need more than...

I slide off the leopard print covered stool, pace up and down the room three times and return to my previous position. Taylor, completely oblivious to my pacing, fidgeting and general discomfort, continues tuning his guitar.

The furthest I have ever gone is just a bit of light petting with a guy I really liked in freshman year named Jackson. Everyone called him Jude because of his slight Jude Law-equeness. I guess it did help that he was from England too and referred to diapers as nappies and to cookies as biscuits. I went on a few dates with him, until I found out he had a girlfriend. It doesn't do much for your sex drive when you're making out and suddenly a guy you really like groans, "Kelly, ohhh, Kelly," into your ear. Especially when your name is not Kelly.

So, returning to the thought at hand, the furthest I've ever gone is some guy who had a girlfriend slipping his hand up my shirt. I lead such a sad life. Now don't get me wrong, I don't like the thought of randomly going out and randomly getting with some random guy and I don't think not having done that is sad. Basically my point is: I'm in dire need of some action here.

"Gia, you okay?" Taylor's eyes peek out at me from underneath his eyebrows. He's slightly hunched over his guitar and his mouth is curved in an oh-so tantalising fashion. I'd do him. Oh man, I must be really backed up. I smirk,

"Fine,"

"You don't look it,"

"Oh, trust me, I'm fine,"

"Right..." he narrows his eyes. I stare at him, consider my options and blurt out,

"Wanna fuck?"

"You?" he sits up and blinks. He looks truly shocked. I don't know whether I'm supposed to laugh or cry at this fact.

"Yeah. Me. Gee, thanks for your tact,"

"Hey," he holds his hands up defensively, "Give me some credit, that was the last thing I was expecting out of your mouth. I would have been less surprised if you had told me little green men abducted you last night and probed you,"

"Oh, yeah, forgot to tell you about that," I reply absentmindedly. Is he trying to digress from the subject I've so eloquently brought up? He could just reject me. I wouldn't really have a problem with that. Wow, I'm such a good liar. He stands up and props his guitar against the wall and walks his lanky frame over to stand in front of me. He folds his arms and raises an eyebrow,

"So you going to tell me what's up? What's brought this on sudden desire to fuck me?" He pauses and then half smiles. He half taps his right foot and leans in just a tad, "Don't tell me you've fallen madly in love with me," he drawls. I can feel his warm breath on my face. This isn't helping one bit.

"Yeah, that's it," I click my fingers for emphasis, "I like that idea,"

"So...come on, out with it,"

"Nothing. It's just that I'm severely backed up here. I've gotten not a single smidgen of action in a year and a half. I'm just..."

"Yes...?" Taylor grins and pulls himself up slightly. I have to look up to meet his gaze. Which I do for a millisecond.

"Well, you know," I twist my head to the side, resting my gaze on the pool table. A nice game of eight ball would help cool things off.

"Come on, Gia, say it,"

"Say what?"

"You know exactly what,"

"No, I don't. Look forget I brought up this absurd conversation,"

"Hey if you'll admit it, I'll sleep with you," Taylor shrugs and looks at me lazily. A small gasp catches in my throat as his eyes linger over my body. I breathe in deeply and try to clear my head. I figure this is when you know when a friendship is a true friendship. You look at sex as only sex. No strings attached. You're only interested in the other as just a friend. Just as a friend, "C'mon baby, what's the exact word you're looking for?"

"Aroused," I state, after having run through my mental thesaurus for other words. I know which word it is he's referring to. I just personally happen to dislike that word. It just sounds dirty to me.

"I'll make a deal with you," Taylor murmurs,

"What?" I ask running my fingers through my hair.

"Give it a week, think about it long and hard, no pun intended, and if you still want to lose your virginity this desperately I'll sleep with you. No strings attached. Only friends, you know the deal," he elucidates. I am slightly taken aback by this. It was not what I was expecting. What I was expecting was Taylor to laugh it off and not give it a second thought. But honestly what is scaring me slightly is that I like the idea of this. Taylor is my best friend. I trust him entirely, with my life. I know the circumstances under which this "lay" would occur and what to expect afterwards. And I would be completely comfortable with him. I look at him thoroughly.

"Done,"

"You're serious?"

"If you are,"

"Deadly," his eyes do not shift from mine for a moment. They are burning a bright blue and are more intense than I ever remember them being.

"You're on, baby," I mumble. I have every intention of going through with this.