The Villa Read Online Free PDF Page A

about the number of men who might try and unzip her daughter that night. In the fantasy, Ben was amazed at her transformation from gawky college kid to red-hot girl about town.
You are so fit
, he murmured, as he bent closer.
So hot
… Oh yeah, and he wasn’t gay.
    Yesss … But Ginny couldn’t go out very often right now, because she was supposed to be revising for her exams and Mum was being
sooo
boring about it.
    She shifted minutely in the seat. Her legs were bare this afternoon (they were her best feature so she and Becca had decided on the high-cut denim shorts) and she didn’t want to stick to the black leather chair. She’d spent an hour shaving her legs until her skin felt raw, so she was pretty confident there were no visible prickles. Her underarms felt suspiciously damp though – she must remember not to lift her hands above her waist, just in case.
    ‘So … Where else d’you go?’ she asked. Even though he was a lost cause.
    ‘Parties, I guess,’ he said. ‘Last week I broke up with my girlfriend. My mate Harley threw a rave to celebrate.’
    ‘Pardon me?’ Surely she was hearing things?
Girlfriend
…? Ginny gripped on to the arms of her chair.
    He repeated what he’d said.
    ‘Cool.’ Inside, Ginny was squealing. He’d had a girlfriend. He – at least for the moment – wasn’t gay. Unless he was in denial? This was amazing news. She couldn’t wait to tell Becca. ‘High five,’ she muttered.
    ‘Sorry?’ He was absorbed in the bit next to her right ear. She hoped she didn’t have any visible ear wax.
    ‘Nothing.’ She tried not to stare at him, but when you were having your hair cut you had to look at something, and there wasn’t a lot of choice. Mirror. Hair products. Her own face. Ben. No contest. ‘Sorry about your girlfriend,’ she added.
    ‘I’m not.’ He grinned at her.
    Ginny pulled in her stomach. The Ball was still lurking. But at least she was thin. And according to her mother, she had inherited Nonna’s ‘black Sicilian eyes’. Which had to be sexy, didn’t it? People were always telling her she should be a model and they were probably right. She should leave college (though Mum would kill her) move to London and sign up with some agency. How hard could it be?
    But she wouldn’t. Ginny tried to swallow and felt the usual lump in her throat. She wouldn’t do it, cos she couldn’t do that sort of thing, she just couldn’t. And she’d have to go to uni, because, well … they all expected her to.
    Snip, chip … Snip, chip … Ben was appraising her in the mirror. Ginny felt hot. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t even talk to him now that he wasn’t gay. His fingers were brushing against her neck and goosebumps were travelling the full length of her body. Which was, anyone would have to admit, a long way. So was she hot or cold, or what? Jumping jackals – it must be what.
    What was it like, she wondered for the zillionth time. What was it like to do it? To really do it with a boy? Most of her friends had got to at least second or third base; Becca all the way. But then – as Mum had pointed out – Becca was a bit
upfront
. Ginny didn’t really want to imagine Becca … But there again, sometimes when you looked at her you couldn’t help but imagine, which was probably what her mother meant. Becca wasn’t thin, but on the plus side she had what Ginny wanted more than almost anything, more even than Ben’s hands on her neck (though not more than the Ball to disappear). Boobs.
    Ginny had a private theory that third base was more intimate than fourth, but she didn’t want to voice this in case there was something else she didn’t know about. After all, until you’d done both … Was she the only girl of her age in Pridehaven who hadn’t done it? Sometimes she reckoned this was very possible. And it was her own fault. It was just that all the boys … Well, she didn’t fancy any of them. But she did want to be over this. She wanted, she supposed,