The 20 Year Old Virgin | Herophine

Chapter 33: Walk of Shame

Jo

The moment we step out of the club, blinding flashes from the paparazzi bombard us. Just how I wanted it to happen. Let Hero see me leaving a club with another guy. Serves him right. He literally just got back to London not more than twenty-four hours and he's already cheated on me with some chick. Who was that bitch anyway? She must be someone he knew back there. Knowing Hero, he isn't the type who would just kiss someone he just met. Unless... he's grown some balls.

Well I am not gonna sit around and wallow on him.

I don't let go of the stranger's hand and instead, I lean to him and whisper, "Where's your car?"

He gives me a charming smile before pulling me towards a black car. He opens the passenger's side door for me and I slide in as he runs to the driver's side and slides himself in as well. He turns an expectant look at me.

"Do you want to go to my place?" he offers. Of fucking course. I try not to roll my eyes at him.

"I'm not going to sleep with you," I tell him honestly but his smile doesn't waiver.

"I wasn't expecting you to, don't worry. I just want to talk, get to know you," he smiles and I can clearly see the honesty in his blue eyes. I still eye him suspiciously though. I'm so used to guys-especially those I meet in clubs and bars-to only want one thing from me and that is sex. "Don't worry, I'm not a serial killer or a rapist. You can text my plate number and my address to any of your friends if you want," he chuckles, slightly amused at my reservation.

"Do you have some coffee at your place?" I ask instead of responding to his assurance.

His eyes light up and he nods eagerly. He tells me his plate number and his address and I text the details to Mia, telling her to call the police if I'm not home by this morning. She responds with a mind-blown emoji and I already know all the questions she'll be bombarding me once I get home later in the morning. All of them having to do with my cheating boyfriend.

He starts the car and we zip through LA traffic. My interest is piqued when he turns to the posher side of the city. He turns to a gated property and enters a code, the gate automatically opening. He parks the car right at the driveway but I could see a four-car garage to the side of the mansion.

Who the hell is this guy I just picked up at the club?

He guides me inside the mansion and my eyes literally pop out of their sockets at the opulence surrounding me. "Kitchen's this way," he gestures to the right side of the house and he leads me there.

"You have your own barista express? Don't tell me you have a personal barista as well?" I ask in disbelief the moment we enter his kitchen.

"No, I'm just a coffee enthusiast," he shyly says, scratching the back of his neck. The gesture instantly reminds me of Hero but I am quick to push the comparison to the back of my head. Not gonna think about it right now. Not gonna think about him right now.

"Can I be rude and ask you who the fuck you really are?" I blurt unapologetically which earns a laugh from this mystery man.

He heads to his coffee machine and starts to make two espresso cups before turning to me, a sheepish look on his face. "Jeremiah Sanders," he holds out his hand.

This time, I take it and say, "Josephine Langford." I smile when his hand doesn't linger on mine. He's actually a decent guy, I guess. He turns his attention back to the coffee he's making as I roam my eyes around the huge kitchen. "So... Jeremiah, what do you do?" I ask when he turns back to me with two cups of latte.

"I'm a programmer," he says, handing me my cup and we both sit on the high stools around his kitchen's island.

"Are you like, a trust-fund kid or...?" I trail off, not wanting to sound nosy or rude but my curiosity is just getting the best of me.