The Virgin (Breakfast at Bennett's Book 1), page 1
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Cover Design: Designs by Dana
THE VIRGIN
BREAKFAST AT BENNETT'S
BOOK 1
E.M. DENNING
DEDICATION
To Salty.
Thank you for never letting me give up or give in or accept less than I deserve.
THE VIRGIN
Jonah Bennett is a virgin.
At twenty-seven, his inexperience is the most humiliating secret Jonah has. The men he’s met always want to move faster than he does, and after one particularly disastrous first—and last—date, he’s forced to turn to his best friend for help. Spencer is one of the few people Jonah trusts, but when he confesses his secret, Jonah fears their friendship may be over.
Spencer Givens is great with his hands.
An artist by trade, Spencer has always been creative with his talents and generous with his time, so offering his body to his best friend feels like a logical solution to what Jonah thinks is his biggest problem. The plan is simple—a little fooling around between friends until Jonah is ready to try dating again.
But Spencer soon realizes he doesn’t want Jonah to date other people. The more time they spend together, the deeper in love he falls. Their agreement was only meant to be temporary, and even though the threat of losing Jonah is real, Spencer is desperate to make it permanent. If you love something you’re supposed to let it go, but Spencer doesn’t think he can. And more than that, he doesn’t want to.
Does Jonah feel the same? Or is their friendship ruined forever?
Breakfast at Bennett’s is a four book series consisting of The Virgin, The Jock, The Princess, and The Outcast. For maximum enjoyment, it is best to read the series in order.
CHAPTER 1
JONAH
“If the next word out of your mouth is trajectory, I’m never playing darts with you again.”
“You’re only mad because you suck at this.” Jonah poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth to concentrate on kicking Spencer’s ass.
“If we drank at my place, I could kick your ass in Mario Kart, but you’re tired of losing.”
Jonah took his shot and hit near enough to the bullseye that Spencer officially had no hope of overtaking his score. “Did you ever stop to think that I let you win?”
Jonah cast an amused look over his shoulder at his best friend Spencer, who rolled his eyes and stepped up to take his turn. Not that it would make a difference to the outcome of the game.
“It’s not fair that you’re this good at darts.” Spencer lined up his shot and swore under his breath when it went wide, nearly missing the board completely.
“It’s not my fault that Colby was a competitive nightmare growing up. He had to be better than me at everything he could. Not like it was hard for him to beat me at sports, but I had to take my wins where I could get them.” Jonah put the darts away and clapped Spencer on his big, broad shoulder. The man was built like a tank. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”
“You make it sound like growing up with Colby was awful.”
“It was.” Jonah scoffed. “Because Taylor is the baby of the family, Colby would never compete with him. Only me, because I’m older. I swear, his name is in the dictionary under ‘middle child syndrome.’”
Maybe awful was a stretch, Jonah thought. Colby wasn’t that bad. He was just a gung ho, eager sort of guy, always had been. And with Mom long since passed away and Dad raising three boys and running Bennett’s— the family diner—on his own, sometimes the kids were left to their own devices. Jonah still didn’t know how the three of them survived each other. Having Taylor around probably helped, to be honest. He was six years younger than Jonah, and four years younger than Colby, but where Colby doted on Taylor, he picked on Jonah. Colby had to be the best, the strongest, the fastest. After a while, Jonah had learned not to care about his competitive streak, but that didn’t mean he had to let Colby win at everything.
Having a jock for a brother had turned out to be an advantage, especially one who made Jonah help him train for soccer camp and swim meets. Too bad the small edge it gave him toward not being a nerdy social pariah hadn’t helped him to be less awkward around men he was interested in.
Jonah stopped at the bar and ordered a couple more pints for him and Spencer. They were regulars at The Anchor, a local bar that was the kind of place people went to hang out and have fun. The Anchor was dim without being dingy and decorated in different woods. Pictures of pirate ships adorned one wall, a slight nod to the name of the bar, Jonah thought. There were pool tables and dart boards, and they carried a variety of beers from local microbreweries. The food was typical bar food, but it was always good.
On the way back to their table, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took his seat before digging it out and checking.
“Is that from Damon?” Their other friend, who sometimes made up the third member of their trio, was supposed to have met them there.
Jonah wished it was from Damon. Anything was better than getting another message like the one he’d just read. Flames lit the side of his face, and he shoved his phone away. “No, it was from Tom.”
“The boyfriend?”
“He wasn’t my boyfriend. We went out a couple times, but …”
“Ah shit, Jonah, I’m sorry. Do you want me to let the air out of his tires? I could draw dicks on his windshield with dry erase markers.”
Jonah drained the rest of his beer and contemplated getting another, but Spencer shook his head.
“That won’t help.”
“I feel stupid, that’s all.”
Spencer furrowed his brow. “You must have really liked him.”
He shouldn’t have laughed as hard as he did, but he couldn’t stop himself. “No, actually. He was drier than a slice of stale bread, but that was half the appeal, you know.”
Spencer eyed him with more curiosity than Jonah was comfortable with. “Stale bread is appealing? I don’t follow.”
It was no secret, to Spencer at least, that Jonah went on a lot of first dates, but not a lot of second ones. Seldom did he make it to a third, and he had never told Spencer why.
But…he was tired of carrying it around like it was some kind of shameful secret. Logically, Jonah knew there was nothing wrong with being a twenty-seven-year-old virgin. So what if he taught teens that had more sex than he’d ever even thought about? So what if he was a socially awkward mess of a man who couldn’t bring himself to let someone touch him in the ways he ached to be touched?
Sometimes he thought it might kill him. He’d lie awake at night and imagine all sorts of dirty scenarios where he was touched and fucked, held down, held open, and used. He knew that no one had ever died from lack of sex, but sometimes he wanted to. Okay, that was dramatic.
“Jonah?” Spencer said, making him realize he’d been quiet for too long.
Jonah opened his mouth, intending to spill all his secrets to Spencer, when Damon appeared. He dropped down next to Jonah and flung a friendly arm around him, pulling him into a side hug. “Sorry I’m late. I got hung up.”
Jonah’s nose wrinkled. “You smell like Tom Ford and sex.”
“You’re full of it. I do not.” Damon’s cheeks turned slightly pink, indicating that not only was he lying but also feeling sheepish about being caught.
Jonah and Spencer had chosen not to pry into his secret love affair a while ago. Damon seemed happy, and whoever he was with had to be at least partially responsible for that, so they left well enough alone. Having a closet full of secrets himself, Jonah knew what it was like to want to keep things from spilling out.
“I started that bear last week, did I tell you two?” Spencer steered the conversation away from Damon’s love life—and Jonah’s lack of one—and onto his art. Spencer was the shop teacher at the high school where Jonah taught mostly math and science. Spencer also built sculptures out of scrap metal in his spare time.
“You better be taking progress photos this time.” Damon reached over and stole Spencer’s drink. He took a sip and gave it back with a shudder. “Yep, that’s still fucking gross.”
“You do that every week,” Jonah said.
“Someone once told me beer was an acquired taste and I have yet to acquire it. I figure, one of these weeks, it might not taste like something that sat in the bottom of a boot.”
“I still don’t see why you think I should bother with photos.” Spencer moved his beer out of Damon’s reach.
“I keep telling you to post them on the internet. Start an Instagram or something. People love creative shit like that.”
Spencer arched an eyebrow and even Jonah had to wonder about Damon’s choice of words. “Creative shit?”
“Oh, shut up. You know you impress me with your sculptures. You’re this giant, ta
lented, hot-as-hell mountain of a man. People will eat you up.” Damon was always free with comments like that. If he thought someone looked good, he said so. If he thought someone was talented, he made sure they knew about it. While it threw some people off, over time Jonah and Spencer had gotten so used to being on the receiving end that they almost never noticed when he said something about how hot they were.
Spencer was hot. Most easily described as a bear, he had a short, well-groomed beard and hair just long enough to pull back into a low ponytail.
Jonah always considered himself to be on the plain side, which was part of the reason he was still single—and a virgin. Mousy brown hair, cut short enough he didn't have to bother styling it but longer than a buzz cut didn’t exactly inspire people to line up around the block.
Spencer didn’t hide the disgust from his face. “I don’t think I’m interested in that. In fact, the more you talk, the less appealing it sounds. If—big if—I started something like that, I’d only show off my art. I’m not interested in someone who sees my face online and decides they need to be with me.”
“Well, that’s fine too. People love a good mystery.”
“I don’t think you’re helping matters, Damon.” Jonah finished his beer. He thought about ordering another one, but he still had stacks of grading to do over the weekend and he loathed working through a hangover. He shoved his empty glass away, earning him a look of concern from Spencer. Jonah appreciated that Damon had interrupted their previous conversation, but part of him knew Spencer wasn’t about to let it go so easily.
“I’m always helpful.” Damon grinned, looking far too pleased with himself to be talking about Jonah or Spencer.
“Unless you’re going to reveal details of Mister Expensive Cologne to us, don’t be a tease, Damon,” Spencer said to him, acknowledging for the first time that there was definitely a someone they all knew existed, even if Damon was keeping him a secret.
Damon batted his eyelashes. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m absolutely one hundred percent single.”
Jonah doubted the validity of that statement for a moment, then immediately second-guessed himself. Maybe that was his problem. All this time he’d wanted to do things in a specific order, but life wasn’t a math equation. He didn’t necessarily have to follow the typical steps—meet a guy, date a guy, fall in love with a guy, fuck a guy. Especially if the result was always going to be the same. Maybe it was time to rethink his formula. He could take a page from Damon’s book and have lots of casual sex.
Damon was bisexual, but mostly he partnered with men, especially recently. It had been a while since Jonah had heard Damon talk about a woman he’d been interested in. But since Damon started seeing his mystery man, he’d been tight-lipped about any of his escapades.
At least Jonah wasn’t bisexual. He doubted he could stand being rejected by more than one gender. It was bad enough being rejected by men like Tom, who was as interesting as a blank sheet of paper.
Jonah forced himself to be social for another hour, sipping at one more drink just to have something to keep his hands occupied. But the conversation often drifted past him and he felt like an ass for not being able to pay attention to Damon or Spencer. Damon might not have noticed Jonah’s silence, but Spencer had. The weight of his stare bored into Jonah, and he could almost see all the questions Spencer was itching to ask him.
“I need to get going. I have papers to grade and plants to water.”
“If you got plastic plants, you could hang out longer,” Damon joked.
“Next weekend we’ll do dinner at my place. Spencer can bring the drinks and you can bring dessert.”
“Why don’t I get to bring the drinks?” Damon asked.
“Because you think beer tastes like boot water. Spencer can pick the drinks. You can bring dessert,” Jonah repeated before he rose and patted his pockets, making sure he had his wallet, keys, and his phone.
“Are you okay to drive?” Damon asked. “I can give you a lift home.”
“I took an Uber here.”
“Well, why don’t we all take off, and I can be the big, responsible best friend and give you and Spencer a lift home?”
“You two don’t have to take off just because I’m going home,” he protested.
Damon and Spencer were already standing, though. They’d paid for their drinks, but Spencer peeled a couple of bills off and tucked them under the glass for the waitress.
“I have a ton of shit to sort in my shop.”
“And I have to go home and feed my fish.”
“You don’t have fish,” Jonah said, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“My pet fish takes offense to that.” Damon pulled his keys from his pocket and spun them on his finger. “Come on. If you’re good, we can stop for fries.”
Damon dropped Spencer off first, which made sense because his house came before Jonah’s on the route they took, but it also turned out to be a trap because the minute Damon pulled away from the curb at Spencer’s, he put on his serious best friend face. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”
Jonah sighed and did his best not to fold his arms over his chest since that was his tell when he was upset about something. And Jonah was not upset. He was tired of not knowing what it was like to be with another person intimately. His one circle jerk as a teenager didn’t count because it was every man for himself. It lacked the closeness of another person that he so desperately craved.
“Tom doesn’t want to see me again.”
To that, Damon said nothing. For several blocks he was quiet, then he let out a sigh of his own when they were almost at Jonah’s townhouse.
“You didn’t even like Tom,” Damon said.
“I didn’t dislike him.”
“Jonah …” Damon trailed off, and Jonah didn’t know whether the twist in his stomach was smugness or shame that he’d finally rendered his friend speechless.
“Maybe I’ll take a break from dating for a while. I think I need to reevaluate my priorities.”
“Well, if you ever need to talk, you know I’m here for you, right?”
“I do, thank you.” Jonah absolutely would not be taking his virginity problem to Damon. He was glad he’d been interrupted before doing something stupid like tell Spencer. No, Jonah would deal with this himself. He’d do what any other self-respecting gay man would do.
He’d download Grindr, set up an anonymous hookup, and get it over with. Once it was out of the way, Jonah might not be so nervous about it anymore. He’d spent so long building it up in his head that he’d made it this huge ordeal.
It was time he got over himself—and under someone else.
CHAPTER 2
SPENCER
“Mister Sanderson. I know you’re not horsing around in my shop because you’re practically an adult now, and you’re old enough to know better, right, Mister Sanderson?” Spencer chided Blake, who promptly put the tool away and feigned innocence. He scanned the rest of the room, making eye contact with more of his students to deliver the next part of his message. “I know giving in to impulsive thoughts is all the rage, but if you’re going to give in to those little voices that tell you to do dumb crap, you need to give in outside of my classroom where I’m not responsible for your missing fingers. Understand?”
Blake mumbled his agreement. It wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but it would have to do. It was Friday, and it was the last class of the day, everyone tired and wanting to go home, Spencer included. Most of the time he taught only shop, both wood and metalwork classes, but this had also been his week to pull lunch hour supervisor duties, and it hadn’t been an easy one. There was something in the air that had made the kids act more like wild animals than usual, and Spencer was exhausted.
“Don’t leave a mess. Remember, the class who has the most stars at the end of the month gets the pizza party.” Over the course of his teaching career, Spencer had learned that it wasn’t hard to motivate a group of teenagers. So long as he had money in the pizza budget, he had students willing to clean up after themselves.
