I suck the huge straw in my bubble tea cup and I get a mouthful of balls.

Tapioca balls, that is. Every Saturday for lunch, Aya and I come to the Miss Saigon Vietnamese restaurant in Brooklyn to get pho and bubble tea.

I like the green tea flavor, and I always get the squishy tapiocas in mine. Aya gets the regular royal milk tea with no tapiocas.

After finally learning how to use chopsticks last year, now I use them every chance I get. With my chopsticks in my right hand, I twirl a bunch of noodles and deposit them in a soup spoon in my left hand. Then I slurp them up.

"So," says Aya, drinking her pho broth and eyeing me, "There's a guy."

I roll my eyes. "There's always a guy with you."

She grins devilishly. "Not with me."

I try to look innocent. "What do you mean?"

"There's a guy with you."

How does she always know?

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," I reply.

She cocks an eyebrow. "You can't lie to me, Leah. I know you too well."

And she does, too, which is the infuriating thing. Somehow, it's not enough to keep my mouth shut. I never leaked a word to her about Luke, and yet somehow, she knows. She knows. How does she do it?

"Damn you," I say. "How do you do it?"

She grins. "I knew it."

"Answer me!"

She laughs. "Because I have ESP."

"Seriously."

"Fine. I'll be serious. Because for the last few days, you've been checking your phone way more than is normal for you. That can only mean one thing."

Ugh. Are my tells really that obvious? I guess so.

"Fine," I say. "There may be 'a guy.' But nothing's going to happen." I slurp down another spoonful of noodles, then decide my pho needs to be spicier. I squirt a bunch of Sriracha into it and stir it around until the broth turns red.

"And why is that?"

"Because he's way out of my league."

"Leagues don't exist."

"B.S."

"They don't.," says Aya. "And if they did, no man would be out of yours."

I know that I shouldn't say what I'm about to say. It's only going to lead to more questions. But I just can't help myself. "Super rich, handsome guys are out of my league, and you know it."

"Whoa-ho," says Aya, contorting her face into a look of combination surprise and approval. "Rich and handsome?"

I decide not to elaborate on just how rich Luke Steele is, because it can't lead anywhere good. "Yes, both," I say. "I wasn't even sure I should text him back. That's how far out of my league he is."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. But yesterday evening he actually texted me back. And he said he can't stop thinking about me, and that he wants to see me again."

"Is he a nice guy?"

"Kind of? He can be sort of pushy, though."

"Well screw him, then."

"I guess."

"No, I mean screw him."

"Aya!" I realize what she actually means, and I feel myself turn red. Aya literally never gives up on trying to convince me to give up my v-card. Literally never.

She laughs and I force myself to suppress my own laughter so she doesn't get any satisfaction.

"Give me a break, seriously. Not everyone needs to lose their virginity by the time they graduate from college."

"If you say so."

"I do."

"Fine, then," says Aya. "If you're not taking him, I will. Give me the deets."

I roll my eyes. "He's mine, not yours."

Aya looks confused. "I don't get you, Leah." She picks out a piece of beef from her soup, and starts chewing on it. "What are you waiting for?"

I feel like we've had this conversation a million times. She's never understood before, and I don't think she ever will. It's not that I'm a prude. I'm not afraid of the idea of having sex. I just don't want to do it until I'm with a guy who'll mean something.

Maybe Luke is that guy, though. He makes me feel more things than any other guy has in a long time, and I'm incredibly attracted to him.

And now that I know he wants to see me again, I'm feeling more confident. Actually, I really can't wait to see him again.

There was one guy in my past who I thought was the one for me. Edward, my first, and only serious boyfriend. I met him back in college at NYU.

At first I thought he was a good guy who would wait until I was ready. But he always liked to party and drink, and I started to have my suspicions that there was something going on behind my back. And since he was my first serious boyfriend, I was too afraid to break up with him, which is what I should have done all along.

Because in the end, I found out that I was right. Since he wasn't getting to screw me, he was screwing practically everything else. I still don't know how he kept it from me for so long. Either he was a master manipulator, or I was a truly naive child who only believed what she wanted to believe. Or maybe it was a combination of both.

Whatever. I'm over it now. At least I managed to escape with my dignity mostly intact, and my v-card still in my possession.

But now I'm more determined than ever not to give it up except to a guy who'll treasure it. And me.

The truth is though, Edward and I never did anything below the belt at all. I've never actually gotten a guy off before, and a guy has never done it to me. That might be my deepest, darkest secret.

I can't even imagine what Aya would say if I told her I've never gone past second base. I mean, there's a big difference between being a virgin and being completely inexperienced. I'd never hear the end of it. So I keep my mouth shut. I have absolutely no plans to tell her about that part of the situation.

It gives me a lot of anxiety when I think about being with someone like Luke, though, who must have an incredible amount of experience in bed.

"Aya, we don't need to go over this again."

"Fine, but you know what I think."

"Trust me, I do."

"Someday you'll do it. Someday you'll bang."

"Someday," I say with a grin, "but not today."

"Well, when are you going to meet up with Mr. Rich and Handsome again?"

"I don't know," I say. "I'm going to let him make the next move."

Aya sighs with exasperation. "Of course you are. It's a good first step, I guess."

I laugh.

* * *

I lie on my bed in my small basement bedroom, scrolling through cat memes on Reddit. After lunch with Aya, I went to the public library and spent all day finishing the edits to my first book. I can't wait to submit the final draft to my editor so the publication process can get started.

The day I get to walk into an actual bookstore and buy a copy of my own book is going to be one of the greatest days of my life. It's something that I've been looking forward to forever, and now that it's actually going to be a reality, I can barely wait for it. It won't be long now.

Now, I just have to get focused on the rest of the books in the series and knock them out of the park, so that Diamond House renews my contract after this series.

Waitressing is really, really not something I can see myself going back to. And I won't have to, as long as I do this right, and I don't blow the opportunity that I've been given.

100% effort is what I'm going to put in, just like I always do. That's how I got to this point in the first place, by continuously improving the manuscripts I was sending in for publication, and being completely honest with myself about my weaknesses.

That's what my dad always taught me to do, and I was brought up to believe that total self-honesty is the only way to live your life.

But at this exact moment, I'm too tired to write another word. All I can do is soak up cat memes like a useless sponge.

Then I hear a strange sound at my window. It sounds like knocking, but that doesn't make any sense.

The window is a tiny little thing up at the top of the wall near the ceiling, just big enough to let a little bit of light into this miserable basement during the daylight hours. My spine straightens in bed and my stomach twists. I'm here by myself. Aya went out to get drinks with some guy, just like she does every night, and I'm home alone and vulnerable.

And now there's some creep knocking at my window.

Cautiously, I get out of bed and grab my baseball bat from the corner of the bedroom. I keep it here for protection, but I've never even had to pick it up, and now that I actually am, I don't feel like it's going to do much to protect me at all.

Not like I could swing it with enough force to defend myself. Not like I'd even have the guts to swing a baseball bat at somebody.

I like to think of myself as tough, but I'm pretty sure that if someone came down here, I'd just give up and hand over whatever they wanted.

But I screw up my courage and hold the bat right to my chest. "Who's there?" I say in my most menacing voice.

"Guess who," says a familiar voice.

It's Luke's voice.

Sighing with frustration, I drop the bat onto the rug on the floor and step up to the window. I reach up on my tiptoes, undo the latches, and lift it up. Sure enough, there's his annoyingly handsome, smiling face. He must be laying down on the ground outside to be able to look in at this angle.

"What in the ever-loving heck are you doing?" I say.

He shrugs and grins. "Decided I'd been waiting long enough to see you again. Come on. Get dressed and come meet me outside."