Chapter 6
In an instant, Ryan's mind played out a whole tragedy of him being rejected and abandoned. He looked like a zombie, his face completely drained of life.
"Ryan, let go." His grip on her wrist was becoming viselike. She winced, tugging hard against it.
"I'm not letting go!" Ryan twisted his grip from her wrist to capture her hand properly, interlacing their fingers tightly.
The playfulness was gone; his face was dead serious. "If that's true, I'll get dumped for being inexperienced. Imagine getting rejected for that. Where's my dignity supposed to go?"
Chloe said flatly, "She hasn't even agreed to date you yet. You can't get dumped."
"But what if she says yes tomorrow?" Ryan shot back, his voice full of anxiety.
"The probability is statistically negligible."
"Negligible is still a probability!" Ryan inhaled sharply, locking his eyes on hers. "I've made up my mind. I'll make the deal with you, Cleo.
"I want to master every single technique before we get together. I need to eliminate any chance of failure."
Chloe's expression remained blank as she asked, "Are you sure?"
"Sure, certain, and absolutely positive!" Ryan replied without hesitation.
"But what about your mom's advice..." Chloe asked.
"She can say whatever she wants, but I'm doing things my way. It's my relationship, not hers," Ryan said firmly. Then he quickly added, "But I've got one condition."
Chloe lifted her eyes to study him.
"You have to turn me into a pro," he demanded.
He couldn't help but smirk inwardly. Chloe was a demon at gaming. Someone with that level of focus and dexterity had to be a natural at this, too. This trade? He was making a killing.
"Sorry, I lack practical experience myself." Chloe crushed his expectations without mercy. "However, I have consulted the literature. The only thing missing is practical application. We will need to explore this together, combining theory and practice."
In fact, ever since deciding to attempt this, Chloe had raided the library for books on human sexuality. She wouldn't claim mastery, but she had every necessary step memorized.
Leave it to the scholar to treat even intimacy as a subject to be prepped for.
Ryan's confidence in the future soared.
He suppressed his excitement, feigning calm as he asked, "So... when do we start?"
Now that the decision was made, he couldn't wait to get going.
Chloe blinked, confused by his sudden urgency, but since Ryan had agreed, it was time to return to the plan.
"Now," she said simply.
The two signed an agreement titled Cooperation Agreement between Chloe Grant and Ryan Carter, with the following contents.
[Party A: Chloe Grant. Party B: Ryan Carter.]
[1. Party B shall unconditionally cooperate with Party A for insomnia treatment.]
[2. Party A shall fully assist Party B in pursuing the Maya Lane, including providing instruction on relevant intimate techniques.]
[3. During the term of this agreement, both parties shall maintain strict confidentiality; the existence of this agreement and the nature of the relationship shall not be disclosed to any third party.]
[Supplementary Terms: Except in cases of emergency, both parties must be available on demand to fully cooperate with all treatment arrangements.]
*****
In a hotel room just down the street, the handwritten "Cooperation Agreement" was signed and stamped by both parties.
It held absolutely no legal weight, yet it felt as solemn as a vow, officially marking the start of this mutually beneficial alliance.
Chloe folded the A4 sheet into a precise square, slid it between the pages of her book, and tucked the volume safely into her backpack.
Ryan sat on the edge of the soft double bed, propping himself up on his hands behind him, his gaze drifting involuntarily over the line of her back.
The rustle of fabric in the quiet room made his heart skip a beat.
"I'll shower first. You go after I'm done." As she pulled the zipper closed, Chloe turned. Her tone was as clinical as if she were explaining a lab procedure.
"Oh." Ryan nodded on reflex, meek as a well-trained puppy.
The instant the bathroom door clicked shut, his docile mask slipped. Fumbling for his phone, he pulled up his best friend Alex Reed's chat and typed furiously.
Ryan said: [Alex, you got any, uh, reference material for... You know what I'm talking about. Send it over, fast!]
Alex replied: [What kind of material?]
Ryan said: [Don't play dumb. Hurry up!]
Alex asked: [Wait, you and Maya are making progress? Getting busy in broad daylight? Damn, Ryan, didn't know you had it in you.]
Ryan barked: [Stop talking nonsense. I'm just curious, okay? Say one more word, and I'll tell your dad you broke that vase.]
Alex relented: [Alright, you're savage. Here you go.]
A video file popped into the chat.
Ryan scrambled to mute his phone, then huddled in the corner of the bed like a thief, hunched over the screen.
Even a slacker knew the value of cramming before a test.
He had to admit, Alex was a reliable bad influence. The video was instructional.
Ryan had barely watched the opening act before his face burned hot enough to ignite. His hands clenched the bedsheets, awkward and restless.
As the scene progressed, he grew so flustered he buried his face in the pillow, leaving only his burning red ears exposed to cool down.
It was only early autumn. Why did the room feel like a furnace had been lit?
Just then, the bathroom latch clicked, and Chloe stepped out.
She was immediately greeted by the sight of a stiff caterpillar on the bed. His phone lay discarded in the corner, the screen still illuminating the very "lesson" they were about to undertake.
Frowning, she leaned over to retrieve the device and turn it off. But the moment her fingertips brushed the phone, a sudden force pulled from the front.
Thrown off balance, she tumbled forward, landing right in Ryan's arms.
The cool dampness of the bath towel collided instantly with the searing skin of the boy.
Their eyes met, and the air seemed to stagnate. Their racing heartbeats echoed in their ears, and an electric, breathless tension filled the space, leaving both of them dry-mouthed and flushed.
Ryan's nerves felt pulled wire-tight. At the slightest stir of movement, his head snapped up, and there Chloe was, clad only in a bath towel, hovering just inches from his face.
Panic seized him. He shot a hand out blindly to steady her, but gravity betrayed them both, sending them tumbling into a tangle of limbs that left him hovering above her.
Was this actually happening? Was he really about to cross that line when he felt so utterly unprepared?
Ryan's Adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow. Buried beneath the jittery anxiety, a secret, hesitant anticipation began to unfurl.