Reed
I’ll crack the border into Oklahoma just as the sun is setting if I can get on the road in the next half hour. It’s feeling impossible to leave this bed, though.
Curled up in my arms, Nolan hasn’t even stirred once over the last two hours. Maybe she sleeps silently like this when I’m gone, but right now, I’m taking complete credit. I reach to my right to tap my phone screen awake so I can turn off the alarm before it sounds, but my movement makes Nolan wake up. Her arms stretch out, one to the empty side of the bed and the other across my chest, which she then places a flat palm against to help her lift her head.
“Good morning,” she says, eyes all sleepy and smile crooked. I run my thumb over her eyebrows, which always somehow get a little bent overnight. She looks up at them while I do.
“Brows go rogue again?”
I breathe out a soft laugh in response.
“Just a little,” I say.
Her eyes settle on mine again, so I live here for several long seconds. Once I leave the warmth of our bed, everything will go back to how it was—I’ll be a thousand miles away, and she’ll be here, and Trig will be dead, and we won’t be talking like we should.
I don’t want that. I don’t want any of it, but there’s really only one piece of it I can control.
“Noles, I’m so sorry.” I let my eyes fall into hers as they start to form tears in the corners.
She sucks in her top lip, and I run my thumb under her eyes this time, sweeping the moisture away. She gives me a small nod before finally speaking.
“It was the worst thing I’ve ever survived,” she says, and though we’ve had this talk before, it’s never been quite like this. My insides crack, like poorly plastered walls in an earthquake.
“I know it was,” I whisper, drawing her head close enough to my mouth that I can press my lips into her hair. I inhale her scent, remnants of the desert and the fire pits still smoldering in the strands.
“I shouldn’t have sent that email,” she says, and I let my eyes blink closed. My pulse speeds up just a little from the pain.
“It’s okay,” I whisper into her, my own body quivering with emotion. I blink away tears, and I’m ashamed because they’re a mix of fear and anger still. Not completely, but those feelings still poison me.
“I love you,” I breathe out instead. She whimpers—those easy words have become too hard to say. We need to speak them more. She needs to hear them…now.
“Always have. From the very first moment. And through everything…this…now. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she cuts in. I needed to hear those words as well. I swallow hard, consuming them.
Nolan adjusts her hold on me, sliding her arms around my body and shifting her weight until she’s lying completely on top of me. Her eyes sweep closed and her lips close softly on my chin, her tongue peeking out just enough to taste my salty skin. She moves up me in fractions of inches until her kiss finds lips, and my hands tangle in her chocolate-colored hair.
“Mmmm,” she hums, the sound coming out with a cry of pleasure when her hips roll against me. My hands slide down her back and find her ass, feeling her perfect contours and gripping hard enough to pull her center over my aching cock.
She braces her weight with her hands in the center of my chest and moves her knees up until she’s straddling me. My head falls back as her hips grind and her body squirms for relief. I glance up in time to see her grab the opposite sides of the bottom of one of my old college T-shirts as she drags it up her naked body and tosses it to the floor.
“Jesus Christ, woman. Your body is the same garden of the gods it’s always been,” I say, leaning up enough to take a soft bite of one hard nipple.
She whimpers when I do, and my cock flexes beneath her, forcing my hands to rock her hips up and down. Eventually she takes over the movement for me and I let my hands paint every inch of her skin with feather-light touches at first until I pull hard on each nipple and send her body cascading down on top of me.
“Please, Reed. Now.” She moans at my ear, and I obey, sliding my boxers down just enough to feel her bare skin against me. I reach between us and tug the cotton strip of her panties, now wet with her own needs and wants, to the side, giving my cock enough room to push deep inside her.
“Ah,” she cries, and the sound of her pleasure sends a rush from my spine into my shaft as I push up and into her again.
Pushing herself up to sit, she begins to move up and down, meeting me with each forceful lift of my hips. Her eyes drift into bliss, but they remain focused on mine. I don’t want to look away, but I’m so drawn to the art of her—the way her breasts quake with our crashes, the muscles in her arms as they work against me, the curve of her hips and thighs. I’m a fool for not thinking any of this is enough, that I need more to prove who and what I am.
Nolan brings the knuckles of her right hand to her mouth and bites down on them as her eyes flutter closed and her cheeks blossom with a pink flush. Heavy breaths turn into panting and we both move slower and slower until eventually she’s collapsed in my arms, our bodies damp with our actions and our hearts craving more.
We lie together in total quiet until the tension of all the words we aren’t saying starts to make it hard to breathe. I reach again for my phone, knowing more time has passed than I planned. It was worth it.
“I have to go.”
It hurts to say out loud. Nolan doesn’t move from the spot where her body is practically glued to me, our legs intertwined, hair splayed on my skin, fingers spread covering as much space on my chest as possible. It’s seven in the morning. The team is going to want me to fly. I’ll be late.
It won’t matter anyhow.
“I thought you were dead.” She says it so matter of fact, as if it’s in the middle of a conversation we’ve been having. Maybe it is; we just haven’t been having that conversation out loud.
I swallow hard, trying to be quiet about it but the movement is jarring and it causes her to curl her fingers on my chest. They form a fist. I cup it in one of my hands, covering it completely.
“You were miles away from me, and all I could do for so long was hold my phone in my hand,” she says, her head shifting against my shoulder as she looks down at where our hands are linked. I let go of her palm and she opens, flexing, before closing it again.
“I stared at it…for hours. I don’t know what Peyton did on that stage, I don’t know how I told her the news, and I can’t remember how I got from that building to the airport. I can’t remember a single word your brother said to me that day, Reed, but I remember how desperate I was and how my heart stabbed with searing pain and hope and despair every time he called.”
She moves to sit up and I join her, turning to face her as she puts a little distance between us so she can look me in the eyes. The ghosts hiding behind hers are frighteningly real. She’s like a crystal ball right now of what could have been, and I know it’s the reason she sent that email. I know it’s the reason we aren’t where we should be.
“I started making plans, and I was terrified Reed, because I didn’t know what I was going to do. I could function. I could pay bills…file documents…plan a funeral. I could talk to the press and do stories about how horrible it was to be me—for Peyton and me to be us. I knew how to do all of that, and yeah…my mind went through it all. I made a list. I made lists of lists. I sat on an airport floor lying to your daughter that things were going to be fine, that this was something routine. But not once in any of those lists did I write down how I was going to be able to live…without…you.”
She shudders and loses her breath, tears forming quickly at the corners of her eyes. It guts me, and I reach for her, but she pulls away, standing up and waving with her hand.
“No, I’m fine. We’re…we’re fine. I think we’re fine, but…” She pulls the sheet around her body and turns and paces before steadying her nervous feet and looking up at me again. I stand on the opposite side of the bed, nearing an hour late for the road, willing to make it hours more.
“I needed to say all of this out loud because I feel like you don’t get it. I need you to understand why I did what I did, and why I am so mad at you sometimes. I’m afraid you’re not going to come home. It’s made me hate that game, Reed. And I hate that you love it so much. I just feel…”
“Stuck,” I fill in.
She nods, repeating the word.
“I don’t want to feel this way,” she says, trailing off and looking down at her feet…the floor.
“I know. Me, too.”
I can feel it coming. This is the place I should stop. But that would be lying, and she’s been so honest. This won’t be real dialogue if I don’t hold up my half.
“I feel guilty…for wanting to be who I am, to do what I do.” I glance up to check if she’s still looking down. She is, but she’s chewing at her lip. She wants to yell. She probably should. I’d still feel this way, though.
“I don’t want to quit.”
There it is. It’s heavy in my gut, and her stillness makes it feel as if I swallowed concrete. I want something that is in direct conflict with what the love of my life wants. We both have our reasons, and I am picking my reasons over hers. She hates that I am. She probably should. She understands anyway.
And this dance shall continue.
It felt good to be talking at least. It also felt good to leave her with a house full of friends. They’ll stay through the weekend, and we all promised—I promised—not to let so much time go by before we do this again.
I keep replaying hearing my dad talk with Bryce while they watched my clips. It was like I wasn’t really there, like they were talking about someone else.
Like I was dead.
I don’t remember that guy on that screen. I love the game just as much as he did, but something changed with my surgery, with those last few big hits. I’m playing afraid, and it’s the reason I’m not playing at all. I don’t know how to lose that fear, and what I was trying to tell Nolan this morning was that I think I need her to remove it for me.
She packed me a small bag of snacks, a cute thing she used to do in college when I’d drive back from her college to mine. She handed it to me in the rolled-up paper bag, but the smirk on her face gave it away. I got about a mile away from the house before I opened the bag and pulled out the orange crayon she shoved in there.
I didn’t want to call her about it right away, so I waited until now—until I passed through our favorite mountains in Southern Arizona and the place where we slept together for the very first time. Until I got to the spot that the orange crayon was all about in the first place.
I pull over in the same lookout as I did twenty-two years ago, the campgrounds a little more formal than they were back then. The Jeep slides to a stop in a graveled area marked with concrete, and I get out to look down a well-manicured trail below that leads to numbered spots, only two taken up with tents. The scene makes me laugh to myself, because it’s nothing like the remote and rustic location I remember taking her virginity in. I wonder if I remember things differently.
Her phone rings about six times before sending me to voicemail. She’s probably out with the horses. I nearly hang up, but before I press the END CALL button and shove the phone in my pocket, I decide maybe she deserves to hear how I remember that night. I’ve actually never told her.
I wait for the tone to prompt me.
“Hey. I got the crayon…nice touch,” I say, pulling it from my pocket and rolling it between my thumb and finger like a joint.
“I was hoping you’d pick up, but you probably have a lot to get done today. I’m sure I put you behind with things. Oh, and hey…make Peyton help you with the horses. That was part of the deal; don’t let her forget that.”
I lean back on the front of the Jeep and look at the rolling valley where a thin trickle of water somehow exists. It snows up here in the winter, and rain can collect when there’s a lot of it. We must have gotten just enough.
“So, I’m in the spot right now.” I pause to laugh. Nolan never liked to talk about our first time. She’d blush and cover her face, tell me to stop. She can’t really do that to me right now, so I decide to push on. She can always stop my message, but I kinda think she’ll hear it all the way to the end. It’s in her nature to be curious.
“I never really got to tell you what that night was like for me. Someone gets all embarrassed. But someone should have picked up the phone if they didn’t want a long-ass message about it. And since you did give me the crayon…”
Reed – Twenty-one years ago
This trip—everything about it—it needs to be perfect. Nolan’s birthday, the gift I’m giving her, the lie we’re telling her parents so she can spend the night away from home…
It all needs to be perfect.
When Nolan asked me about other girls during our bus ride home from the track meet near the end of the season, a shift happened. My honesty with her was key, and I know it left a scar. But that scar—it was going to happen eventually.
I knew what I was risking the minute I slept with those other girls. I was gambling away my chances to ever be with Nolan. And when she asked me, point-blank, to my face, to tell her every girl I slept with, I knew I was rolling dice again by telling her the truth. I knew that some details were more painful than others—some girls more of a betrayal than others. One girl in particular was going to break her heart.
And I broke it.
I saw it break, watched it fall into a million tiny pieces with the tear that slid down her face before she tried to wipe it away. Seeing that, it broke me, too. But I felt the odds in my gut; somehow, I knew that not telling her about Sarah’s sister, that lying to Nolan, would be the fatal error.
So, I confessed. I confessed and then I held her, and begged her not to run. And she hasn’t; not yet. But every time I’m with her, I feel her urge, her questioning of herself, wondering if she’s worthy, wondering if this is a trick, wondering when I’m going to drive the knife into her heart. She’s been questioning herself, questioning us, for a month. And that…that is no one’s blame but my own.
I’ve hurt Nolan, and I’m the biggest dick in the world for doing it. But this trip, it will lay her doubts to rest, a do-over for our first date, a second-chance for that epic beginning. It’s everything she deserves. Or at least, it’s a start. I think about the time I’ve wasted, how Nolan’s been there for everything in my life—even just the time’s she’s sat there in those stands while I was on the field, my head not where it should be at all. I was focused on partying, getting laid, having some girl make me feel like a king for five minutes. I wanted to be the guy everyone told me I was supposed to be—the hero, stepping into my brother’s shoes. All that time Nolan was there…watching.
I should have been looking back.
I ditched my last class so I could be here for this moment. Her backpack is weighing down her shoulders while she walks to my Jeep, her overnight bag already packed and tucked in the backseat from this morning. She thought it was strange when I asked her to pack a full change of clothes, sweatpants and sweatshirt, toothbrush, her favorite music, a flashlight and an orange crayon. When she questioned it, I told her we might be doing something that would get her a little messy, but I didn’t breathe a word about the fact that it might just take about twenty-four hours too.
I put the orange crayon on her list just to mess with her, because I like the way she bites her lip before she pushes me and grins. It’s just one of a million tiny things she does that I like. I doubt she’ll actually pack it, though. Nolan—she’s always been good at reading my bullshit, and I don’t think she’ll fall for this one.
I watch her every move as she tosses her heavy bag into the back with a thump and pulls her other bag to her lap, clutching it as she buckles herself in, her fingers working the bag’s zipper back and forth with nerves. I stare at her hands, and for a brief second, I flash to my fantasies, to that little thought buried in the back of my head about tonight—Nolan is going to be in my arms all night, and there’s a chance…
“So, where is this mystery date?” she asks, snapping me back, my lap more than obvious what I was thinking about. I shift my weight, rev the engine, and move the gear into reverse, hoping she doesn’t notice I have the hard-on of a junior high boy in health class. I take a deep breath, then look at her, her eyes full of hope that I’m going to give in and tell her early. I wish I could, because maybe, just maybe, she’d be as excited as I am over the thought of sleeping together, and maybe…
I stop myself there. I know better. If I tell her we’re leaving town, that I’ve concocted a lie with her friends so she can sleep out under the stars with me alone, she’s only going to spend the entire trip trying to talk me out of it. Nolan’s a rule follower—one more of the million tiny things I love.
Love.
“No, no…all will reveal itself,” I say, catching a glimpse of her bobbing leg, the nervous energy seeping out from her. She’s anxious. Anxious is a whole lot better than being doubtful and worried. So far, this gamble is paying off.
Traffic is in my favor today. Our trip through the desert highway is quick, and we’re buzzing south on the interstate in no time. I can tell that Nolan’s anxiety is picking up, though, and I’m pretty sure she’s realized that this date I have planned—it’s not going to be over by curfew.
“Reed, maybe I should call my dad? I think he was thinking I’d be home by nine or something?” Nolan asks, her nail-biting picking up at a frantic pace.
She’s legitimately worried now, so I cut her a break. “Not a problem, already got it worked out,” I say, unable to help but smile while I talk. I hope like hell she’s smiling after I tell her this next part. “See…you’re spending the night at Sarah’s tonight. She worked this whole thing out with me.”
Shit. She’s not smiling. Her face looks shocked. I think I’ve shocked her. I also think she might think she’s actually spending the night with Sarah, and that makes me laugh a little. I keep my focus straight ahead, on the car in front of us, for the next mile, until I can get my massive grin under control.
When I finally sneak a look at her again, her brow is pinched, that small worry line forming on her forehead. I don’t like that line—I’ve put it there too often.
The entire trip takes about two hours, and we’re right on schedule when I make the turn off the interstate into the mountains outside the city. I’m watching Tucson’s lights fade in my rearview window as we climb higher into the desert hills. Soon the cacti give way to pines and forest brush. I always loved coming here with my dad and brother, the way the desert hides this forest oasis is almost like a fairytale. This place doesn’t feel like it should belong, like it’s fleeting and might disappear at any second.
That’s sort of how I feel about Nolan. The way she’s been carrying her doubt, like she might give up on us and run. To think that my time with her might be fleeting hits me in the pit of my stomach, and I push the gas a little harder, like I’m racing against two clocks now.
I think maybe this feeling is regret.
The turn is coming soon, so I start to slow the Jeep down again after a few minutes, hunching forward on the wheel to watch for the small wooden sign marking the road. I’ve never driven this road at twilight, but I remember the sign is crooked, leaning just enough into the roadway to make it hard to miss.
My bright beams glimmer off the metal post, and I hit the break a little too hard, Nolan gripping her seatbelt and pushing her feet against the floor to stay in her seat. On instinct, I reach my hand over her chest, bracing her, holding her in place, and she wraps her hands around my forearm.
I leave my arm there for a few extra seconds. I like it—her touch. I like that it feels like she needs me. This girl…I could marry her one day.
The campsite comes up quickly, so I pull off into a thick section of trees, kill the motor, and practically leap out of my Jeep. I sprint to the back and pull out my large hiking pack, the sleeping bags tightly rolled and tethered to the top, then race over to her door, my breath held waiting for her to react.
When the realization of what we’re here for hits her—the coordination it took to pull this off becomes worth it in an instant. Her lips make that slow curve up, quivering with emotion until her smile stretches the width of her face.
That smile—that’s the one I did this for, the one I’d do anything for.
I don’t even wait for her to speak, instead spreading out our camping equipment, setting up the tent, dumping pieces from my pack. At one point, I actually laugh lightly to myself, the kind of release that comes from giving, and my heart is pounding so hard that my ears are practically thumping. I’ve never been so happy making someone else so happy.
Huh…
“Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to help me set up camp?” I tease, snapping her from her daze. She actually shakes her head, like people do when they wake up from a dream. And I love that, too.
Love that.
I love that I made her do that.
I love Nolan Lennox. And I’m going to give her the stars to prove it.
“Oh! Yes, sorry. I was just taking it in,” she says, leaping from the Jeep and rolling up her sleeves to help me. As much as we need to set up the tent, I can’t help but waste the minutes away looking at her—touching her. The second she’s within reach, I drop everything and pick her up, holding her to the sky, spinning her so the stars swirl around her face, her hair blowing in different directions, her cheeks blushing with happiness, her smile making me feel whole.
“Happy birthday, Nolan!” I say, letting her body slide down into my arms, my lips finding hers, my forehead resting on hers, my breathing matching hers. Everything—her.
“Reed?” she whispers.
“Uh huh?” I say back, my hands finding her hips, swaying us side to side, my eyes closed while I think of how this small piece of her feels under my touch—how badly I want to feel her, more of her. But I won’t cross that line with her, not until she’s the one asking for it.
“We probably should set the tent up,” she whispers again, my eyes opening enough to catch a view of her lip, tucked in her teeth. She’s thinking about that line, too.
“Oh yeah, that’s what we were doing,” I joke, closing my eyes again while I flex my fingers once more, just enough to burn the memory in place before letting go.
The tent is pretty simple, so we have it set up within minutes, and I get a fire working quickly while she sits on the sleeping bag I’ve rolled out next to the wood, her arms hugging her backpack to her chest. Her eyes practically paint me with their stare, and as disarming as it is when she studies me, it also feels so damn good. She’s been looking at me like this for years now, like I’m someone. She did it the first time our eyes met, and it filled me up with this strange sensation that I ignored.
Goddamn how many things I’ve ignored.
“What’s up?” I ask, her eyes still watching my every move.
“I was just thinkin’,” she smiles.
“Yeah, I get that much,” I say. “Whatcha thinking?”
“Well, I get the clothes and the toothbrush. And the flashlight?” She furrows her brow. She’s trying to figure out the bag, the list of things I made her pack. She’s working up to the crayon, and it’s so damned cute. Holy shit, I think she actually packed it!
“Oh, yeah. Thanks! I’ll need that. I don’t have one of those,” I grin, grabbing the flashlight from her backpack and pushing it into my pocket, turning around again quickly, hiding my grin because I know she wants to know about the rest.
“Why my music?” she asks next.
I pause at the fire, the sparks finally kindling enough for the flames to take over the work, and pull Nolan up to stand in front of me, my lips dusting hers. “Duh, so I can dance with you under the stars,” I say, teasing her and tilting her chin so her eyes can take in the sky.
“Okay, okay,” she says, a breathy giggle escaping her mouth. “But…orange crayon?” She asks, her eyes coming back down to meet mine. She pushes from my arms just enough to reach her backpack by her feet, pulling the small crayon from the bottom. It’s brand new, probably from a box she had to buy just to get it. And I can’t help but start to chuckle, my lips hurting from trying to hold my laughter in.
“Damn it,” I yell, my arms limp at my sides and my face parallel to the sky. When I look back at Nolan, I can tell she’s confused, and maybe a little worried. “Oh, it’s nothing really. I just owe Sarah twenty bucks.”
She’s still staring at me, and now she looks suspicious. Crap, that’s not the direction I want tonight to go.
“Sarah said you’d pack anything I told you to, and I didn’t think you would. You know, because you’re so pigheaded,” I say, pulling her hair lightly. “I threw that on the list as a test, and she won!”
I bend down and open up the cooler I brought, pulling out a few sandwiches and fruit slices I prepped for dinner, but quickly notice that Nolan’s still staring at me, her bottom lip sucked in tightly.
“I could just sort of pretend I didn’t bring it, you know,” she says, willing to lie just so I can win a stupid twenty-dollar bet. I look at the crayon, then to her, and smile, tucking it into my pocket with the flashlight. “No, that’s ok. I don’t go back on my bets,” I say, pressing my thumb to her lip. I hand her a paper plate with half a sandwich on it, and we both kneel down on my sleeping bag for our makeshift picnic.
Once our dinner is done, we take a small hike by flashlight, not as far as I wanted to go, but I didn’t really think out this whole walking over loose stones and tree roots in the dark thing. More than once, I lose my footing. I’m extra careful to go slow for Nolan.
We make it to the small lake—the same one I fished at with my dad as a kid—and skip stones across the water. We get a little carried away at the water’s edge, splashing water and kicking our feet in with our shoes in our hands. When Nolan starts to physically shiver, I get her out, wrapping her legs around my front and carrying her back to the campsite. I sit her down, lying on the sleeping bag next to her, my head resting on my elbow while I watch her look at the sky.
Her brown hair is blowing across her face, and her smile could light up the moon.
“So, do you want your present?” I ask. This part is like ripping off a Band-Aid. It’s the moment all of the tiny moments leading up to it were about. I’ve almost chickened out on giving this to her a dozen times, even as recently as the drive up here. But fear hasn’t served me very well when it comes to this girl. I think it might just be time for a dose of courage.
“Okay,” she says, closing her eyes and holding her hands out. She’s mimicking the same thing I did when she gave me a gift for my birthday. I sure as hell hope my gift can measure up to hers. I still have the state championship patch that matches the one my dad earned pinned to my wall.
I pull the folded paper from my pocket, clutching it one more time, realizing this is it. When I place it in her palm, it suddenly becomes harder to breathe.
“You…wrote me a poem?” she asks, and it makes me laugh, probably because I’m nervous.
“Oh, God no. You don’t want me to do that, trust me. It’d be awful!” I say. “It’s a letter.”
As she starts to unfold the creases, pressing the paper flat against her chest, my heart picks up, faster than ever before, and my body is suddenly on fire, my head a little dizzy.
I can taste the panic.
“Wait!” I say, my hands quickly covering the first words on the page. Nolan looks up at me, her eyes…happy. Everything about her face is an angel. I know, despite how absolutely terrified I am, she’s going to read this letter, laugh in my face, and hotwire my Jeep to leave my ass in the woods. It would still be worth it to show this girl exactly what I think of her. She needs to know I think of her—and only her. If she stays, I’ll know she’s mine. But she’ll also know I’m hers. “Wait…you need to know something first. You need to know when I wrote this.”
“Okay? So…when did you write this?” she asks, her hands trembling now, the letter shaking in her fingers.
“That night after the winter dance our sophomore year,” I say quickly.
Pull the Band-Aid off.
I keep my eyes on hers as long seconds pass, her gaze locked to mine, like she’s looking for proof. She’s still looking for the trick, the gotcha! There’s no trick here, though. It’s just me, being honest…for once in my goddamned life.
Finally, her head falls forward, and she begins to read the words I wrote a year and a half before, words I wrote when I wasn’t even sure what they meant. I read them while I waited for her in the school parking lot, and over the last week, I’ve read them so many times that I have them memorized, my lips moving along with certain parts when I know Nolan’s reached them.
She laughs lightly when she gets to the funny parts, but it’s when her eyes flutter, when her fingers wrap even tighter around the collar of her shirt, gripping at it, that I know she’s found the reason behind it all.
“Tonight, I danced with a girl that stole my breath away,” my lips speak silently, Nolan’s eyes glazing over. As she reads on, I let my eyes go to the letter, my mouth still reading the words along with her silently. “You’re not mine. But what’s strange is it felt like you’ve always been mine … as beautiful as you were tonight, I think maybe you’ve been beautiful all along. And I’m just stupid.”
I’ve. Just. Been. Stupid.
When her hands lower the letter, her eyes give way to tears, and I pull her into my arms. Finally, she feels like she’s mine.
“I guess I knew I loved you then, too,” I say, my heart full and happy, the feeling strange but welcome. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear, her heartbeat reaching out from her chest, reaching out for my own.
“That just kicked the shit out of my scrapbook and the varsity patch,” she says, a small laugh escaping through tears, her hands moving to her face to wipe them away. That scrapbook she made me, the letter she gave me from my father’s varsity year—I knew that I loved her then. So much energy wasted talking myself out of it. So much time…
I kiss her softly, afraid to kiss her any deeper, afraid I won’t be able to stop. She takes one step backward, our lips part, and her hand is flat on my chest as she pushes away. At first, I think she’s just giving us the space we probably need, being the responsible one. And then her hands reach for the bottom of her sweatshirt, pulling it slowly up and over her body, her hair falling loose in all directions over her bare arms.
I swallow once, choking down any stupid something I feel the urge to say right now. Now is not the time for clever, and now is also not the time to be a gentleman. Now is the time to wait—the time to hold my breath and talk both sides of my conscience into coming to an agreement about what I think might just be happening right now!
Her shirt comes off next, followed by the small tight tank top she was wearing underneath. She’s standing here before me, her breasts damned near the most perfect things I’ve ever seen, and all I can think about is how much I want to touch them, touch her, taste her.
Do not…be an asshole, Reed!
I wait for permission. I wait while she reaches for me, pulls my shirt up over my head, and slowly slides her bare skin up against mine, her lips leaving a trail of kisses along my shoulder, neck and face.
That’s enough waiting.
As soon as her teeth graze against my ear, I reach my hands deep into her hair and pull her face to mine, kissing her hard and rough. And she responds, her tongue and mouth just as hungry as mine.
This is the single greatest feeling of my life. And my mind races several moves ahead, hoping and wishing. Yet, when I feel Nolan’s hands working to unsnap the button on her pants, something inside me clicks, and my heart surges, those balanced scales in my head warring with one another again, trying to keep me from fucking this up.
I slide my hands down her arms, gripping her wrists and holding her still. “Nolan, you don’t have to do this, that’s not what tonight was about,” I say. Tonight was about me being honest, about me proving to her that she’s my girl, that she doesn’t have to compete with anyone. And I don’t want to cheapen that, but my God, does her skin feel amazing next to mine.
“I know,” she says, stepping away from me again. She keeps her eyes on mine, her breathing now heavy, her body quaking. At her final step, she reaches down and slides her jeans from her body, followed shortly by a small pair of white, cotton panties.
That war happening inside my head—it’s over now. I lost. Or maybe I won. I’m not sure what side of the war is right, and right now, I don’t fucking care. Seeing Nolan stand out here, in the middle of the night, out in the open, completely naked—this is the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and it is going to take every ounce of control in my power not to make this end in seconds.
I move to her slowly, my hands starting at her leg, sliding up along every curve until I’m standing in front of her. When I unbutton my jeans, I notice her body tense, her hands not sure where to go, her breathing picking up pace, filling her chest quickly, then escaping just as fast. I kick my pants down my legs, letting my clothes fall into a pile with hers, and I step closer so we’re touching.
This is going to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. I throw passes to moving targets, take hits from three-hundred-pound lineman that are, no doubt, leaving bruises on my body and brain every time I get punched and pressed to the turf. That shit—it’s hard! But football’s got nothing on this moment right now.
Nothing has ever been this important.
And nothing ever will be again.
I kiss Nolan’s neck, and she shivers. “You’re cold,” I say, her head nodding yes slowly as her eyes close. I sweep her up into my arms, walking us to the tent while my lips find hers again, and by the time I move us through the open flaps on the tent, Nolan begins to move again, her hands circling my neck until her fingers find my hair. I lay her on top of the thick comforter I put down to soften the tent floor, then reach for my wallet, pulling out the condom I put in there because of that little hope and wish in the back of my mind that this would happen.
I still don’t know if it’s right, and I’m not sure I deserve to be the guy taking this from her. But fuck me if I’m going to let someone else touch her like this for the first time. The last guy wasn’t worthy of holding her hand.
Once the condom is on, I move over her, her eyes wide and looking at me for something. I think its permission. I’m going to grant it, I’m going to talk her into this, and I’m going to be selfish, because I want her—all of her—like this. I want to feel her and have her ache for me. And I hate myself for giving in so easily, but I have to have this—have to have her. But I promise to love her long after.
Yes, I’ll love her. I’ll love her for fucking always.
“I’ll be slow. And if you want, tell me to stop,” I say, looking at her, knowing if she says so, that I’ll have to do it. I won’t lie to her. And I won’t hurt her. This girl, she’s my reason…period.
“I know,” she says, a small nod of her head, her voice soft, shaking with nerves. But her eyes aren’t afraid. Her eyes—they’re on fire. She reaches her hands up my arms, sliding her fingers into my hair as she pulls my head to hers, kissing me softly at first, but the need growing with every pass of her tongue. As her hands slide down my neck, to my back and sides, I feel her legs relax beneath me, her hips rocking upward, her stomach meeting mine. The roll of her body is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, ever felt, and I know that even though she’s scared, she also wants this as much as I do.
I lower myself slowly, reaching with my hand to guide myself in place, then I push into her slowly, stopping to let her body get used to the feeling of having me inside her. Her eyes close tighter, and I can tell it hurts, and my chest tightens knowing that I’m hurting her.
“I can stop, Nolan. We don’t have to…” I say, not so sure I can really keep my word now, all of my base instincts taking over, my arms threatening to weaken their hold, to let my weight fall fully into her.
“Reed, I love you. I want this, with you,” she says, her eyes opening just long enough to look into mine, to give me her consent.
My thumbs graze both sides of her face, my elbows caging her body, my weight held by my tingling arms. I take her bottom lip in-between mine, holding it in my mouth, my tongue tasting her quivering lip as I lower myself completely, falling into her, and her insides squeeze against me. I can feel her body tense, so I wait a few seconds before rocking slowly out of her and moving into her again. With every shift, her body grows more willing, until finally, I feel her hips begin to rock into me again, meeting my rhythm.
Our kiss never stops, and it only grows more intense as our bodies move together faster. I let my hands slide down her side, gripping the side of her leg and bringing it up around my hip, letting me push into her even deeper.
As much as I shouldn’t do this, because it threatens to send me over the edge with every new movement she makes, I can’t help it. My hands want all of her. My mouth—it wants all of her. She feels fucking perfect, and I am going to have to do this again.
This…this isn’t one of those things I can have only once. This is addiction, in its finest form.
Nolan isn’t my first. But holy shit, nothing compares to the way she feels. Her arms and legs only give into me more, until I finally feel her hands grip at my biceps, her back arching as her breasts beg for me to touch them. I slide my hand beneath her, pulling her hard peaks to my mouth as my hips work slowly, my mind actually counting seconds slowly to keep me from ruining this, from going too fast—from hurting her.
When I lower my head and pull her nipple into my mouth, sucking lightly, Nolan gasps, her breath a whimper, and like a siren went off, my body reacts. Knowing I’m only seconds away from losing control, I work her breasts with my tongue, sucking on each until they’re hard and raw, and Nolan’s breathing has fallen into a pant. When her teeth dig into my shoulder, her mouth letting out a small cry of pleasure, I finally let go too, everything escaping me in one massive rush, my head dizzy as I collapse next to her, finally falling away and breaking our hold on one another.
That was selfish.
What I just did, it was one hundred percent for me. I had to have her, and I will forever be her first. I just took something from Nolan, something that I know I’ve taken from others, but for some reason have never stopped to think about like I am right now.
What Nolan gave me, she can only give once, and I am not something that will ever go away. I’m a permanent memory. I’ve tattooed myself on her heart and soul. And the gravity of all that—fuck. For once in my life, the weight of a moment isn’t lost on me. And all I want to do now is deserve it.
Deserve her.
Rolling to my side, I reach my arm over her, pulling her into me, my fingertips touching the moist skin along her back, my ears content to listen to her breathe. Nolan looks up at me, and that worry—the mark on her face I left there from so many mistakes—is gone. Doubt—gone. Happiness all that is left.
Present Day
“I love you, Nolan,” I whisper into the phone. “And I swear to God I always will.”
I end the call and note the time. I just left her a sixteen-minute message. I rambled, and I went on and on about her body and what it was like to be a teenage boy in her presence back then. Fuck, I see how those high-school seniors look at her now. She’s the kind of woman they write rock songs about.
I hope she listens to the entire thing.
I’m now a full two hours behind schedule, not that anyone is really waiting for me. When I called Arlon, OKC’s head trainer, he almost sounded surprised. I think maybe he forgot about my scan. I’m not really a priority, and they have another backup.
A younger backup.
Climbing back in the Jeep, I decide to spend a few extra minutes staring at the mountainside where I once promised a girl I’d be hers forever. I’ve done a shitty job at that, I guess—almost snapping my neck and all.
Glancing up at the clouds that are starting to form, I talk to Trig.
“You better help me figure this out, man. Just cuz you left doesn’t mean you still don’t have a responsibility to this friendship. Brothers ‘til the end, and I’m still here, Trig. I’m still here.”
My head falls forward and I ready myself for the mind-numbing drive that lies ahead through some of the flattest parts of this world, taking one last look at the place where the earth is all beautiful and uneven.
I’m still here.