Virgin Delivery Girl - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

I'd spent my whole life single, never really believing in my own appeal.
But I'd read somewhere that men are visual creatures—that bringing one to his knees isn't actually that hard for a woman.
So I left work early on purpose, locking the ParcelHub door from the inside.
Then, I pulled out the lace chemise I'd bought ages ago—just in case.
I even had an airtight alibi ready: if he asked, I'd say I forgot he was still in the restroom because he took way too long.
Screw the consequences.
Years of lonely nights had made me reckless.
Once I slipped into the chemise, I checked myself in the mirror. My face burned red as a cherry, but damn—the outfit hugged every curve, especially my chest, which looked like it might spill free any second.
Ready for my little performance, I sprawled across the armchair, legs parted, pulling out my favorite toy like it was no big deal.
I'd done this a thousand times before—but never while listening to Ethan's deep, smooth voice on the phone just a few feet away. The thrill of it nearly short-circuited my brain.
By the time his call was winding down, I was soaked, trembling, and barely holding it together.
Then—perfect timing—I faked innocence and bolted toward the restroom.
The door swung open.
Our eyes locked.
He froze.
I let out a dramatic gasp, scrambling back to my desk like a scandalized Victorian maiden, hastily draping a jacket over myself while stealing glances at his reaction.
Honestly? I was equal parts turned on and mortified, like I'd just disgraced my entire family lineage.
Then I got a good look at Ethan's stupidly perfect face, and suddenly, shame didn't matter anymore.
Who cared about dignity when love was on the line?
If I could have Ethan Blanchet, I'd die happy.
"Y-you're still here? I thought you'd left…" My voice trembled with Oscar-worthy distress.
Ethan looked genuinely wrecked. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."
To my own shock, real tears welled up. "No man's ever seen me like this… I'm very traditional…" My pathetic sobs grew louder.
I deserved a damn award for this performance.
Then came the unthinkable—Ethan actually said:
"The truth is… I've liked you from the moment we met. You captivated me instantly."
"You're different from other women. Completely. There's an innocence in you—your eyes shine with pure light."
For a second, I wondered if "innocence" was code for "you look like a naive idiot," but whatever. Ethan Blanchet was talking to me.
He pulled up a chair, taking my hand. "Name any compensation—I'll do it."
Was this real life?
But the warmth in his eyes felt undeniable.
Drowning in his attention, I thought, Even if this is a lie, it's the best lie I've ever heard.
Our gazes locked, electricity crackling between us.
My toy clattered to the floor, forgotten. In that moment, nothing else existed. I closed my eyes, waiting for his kiss—
Then his phone rang. Again.
"Wait for me. I'll come find you tomorrow."
A tidal wave of frustration crashed through me. I wanted to grab that damn phone, snap it in half, and grind the pieces under my heel.
But of course, he left.
Another night of lonely self-satisfaction awaited.