Firsts: Book One’s

by Moore, Portia

  “I know she’s beautiful son, breathtaking even, but behind all that I’m telling you—she’s damaged goods. I’ve worked with enough kids to know.”

  “I can’t believe you’re being so judgmental. God, Mom!”

  “I’m not here to disrespect anyone or hurt their feelings, but you’re my son and I don’t want to see you hurt, and that girl has destruction written all over her.”

  The sincerity in my mom’s eyes sends a chill down my spine.

  “Well, I’m hers to destroy,” I say before leaving.

  “Hey.” She’s says with a half a smile. She’s waiting on the hood of my car, a regular degular Chevrolet Impala, not the expensive foreign cars she’s used to riding in. She’s let her hair down, her blazer off, sitting on the car as if she has nowhere else to be.

  “I thought you had left,” I tell her, wearing a goofy smile.

  “How could I leave when I don’t have the keys?” she says with half a smile. I walk to her and spread her legs so I’m between them. I kiss her neck, then her lips, and coax her tongue out. If it weren’t four in the afternoon on this residential street I’d have her right here on this car.

  “I missed you,” I say, squeezing her ass.

  “It’s only been ten minutes,” she says wryly.

  “But I thought you were gone, I had this feeling,” I say, sounding like a lunatic to myself.

  “I wouldn’t make your mom right about me,” she replies, leaning her head on mine. My lips go back to her neck and I pull her close to me, hugging her tightly. The thought of losing her felt like I was drowning. I’m tired of the games, walking the tightrope of holding on to this feeling I have with her. She makes me want to be a better man, to prove every asshole wrong, to love her how she should be loved every day. I feel high, electricity coursing through me. I lean back and take in the woman who has driven me insane since the first day I met her. She eyes me suspiciously with a curious grin on her face.

  “What?” she asks, amused.

  “Marry me.” Her face goes blank, her eyes wide.

  “Don’t joke like that,” she scolds me.

  “I’m not—I swear to God.” I see her swallow hard.

  “You’re crazy,” she says, her face in a grimace. But I can’t fight my smile. When she’s around I’m always fighting my smile, my feelings, emotions I’ve never felt…and I’m tired of it.

  “We both are,” I tell her through a laugh.

  “You’re serious,” she says, almost breathless.

  “As a heart attack.”

  “Your mom hates me.”

  “So the fuck what? She’ll get over it. I love you, more and more every day. I don’t need to wait a year or two to know how I feel now isn’t going to change, but if you ask I’ll wait on you for ten.”

  Her face is soft yet stoic and for the first time ever I think she’s speechless.

  “When?” she asks breathlessly. When? Is she saying yes?

  “Does that mean you’re saying…”

  She nods slightly but the most amazing smile I’ve ever seen spreads across her face.

  “Tomorrow. Devin and Shauna are going to Vegas to elope. Let’s make it a double wedding.”

  “You’re serious?” she asks again, her enthusiasm showing.

  “We're doing this babe,” I tell her, and she pulls me into a frenzied passionate kiss, our tongues fighting, my hands everywhere on her.

  “We’ve got to get in the car babe, or we’re going to get arrested,” I mutter against her soft lips, carrying her off the hood. I fumble with the car door and we fall into the back seat. Our clothes are off in seconds and I’m inside her, and I think of my fourteen-year-old self who would shit himself knowing I had the girl of my dreams naked, legs spread, me inside of her, having her scream my name in the back of my favorite car.

  * * *

  “You know, I really don’t appreciate you crashing our secret wedding,” Shauna bitches as we make our way through the airport. Shauna is Devin’s fiancé—hot as hell 5’9”, Hershey-colored skin, same color as Devin’s, and eyes like a cat—Devin’s wanted to marry her since the day he met her. I thought he was stupid, joke’s on me.

  “Blame your can’t-keep-his-mouth-shut boyfriend,” I tease back as we all make our way through the hotel to our suite.

  “After all of the jokes and bad mouthing about me being a pussy and wanting to get married, I’m laughing my ass of right now,” Devin says for the fifth time since I told him.

  “And that’s why he’s buying us all drinks the whole weekend,” Alana interjects playfully.

  “I guess that sort of helps,” Shawna relents.

  “House, house drinks only,” I remind them.

  “We didn’t agree to that, did we bae?” Devin asks Shauna.

  “Nope, I don’t remember that deal at all,” they tease me.

  “It’s okay babe, I’ll make it worth your while,” Alana whispers in my ear and for that promise I’ll damn near spring for a suite. Thankfully Devin had already booked one at the Palms Place.

  “You have to tell me how you got him to bite the bullet in less than a year when Devin here sat on his ass for almost three.”

  “Hey, we’re right here,” Devin reminds them.

  * * *

  “Damn Devin, comedy shows pay you this much?” I say, looking around the large suite. It’s gorgeous and looks way too expensive for us to be staying in. The floors are all marble-colored in cool greys. There’s no wall—only fucking windows. I’ve never thought much about being rich but this sure makes you want to have a taste of money. Devin chuckles as Shauna clings to his neck.

  “Who said he paid for it?” she teases.

  “My American Express does,” he asserts.

  “Our American Express does,” she corrects him before pulling him into a kiss. I spot Alana out on the balcony, her hair blowing in the wind. I grab my camera and head out to her. She blows me a kiss when she sees me and begins to pose. I roll my eyes; she knows I like natural shots. She relents as I take her picture.

  “We’re here. We’re really here Ian!” she squeals, her eyes lit up in delight, her enthusiasm contagious.

  “We have a fucking marriage license. Us!”

  “I know,” I tell her, taking in the gravity of the moment. Her wide contagious smile softens and she walks over to me and rests her head on my chest.

  “You’re okay?” I ask her solemnly, holding her in my arms.

  “I am. That’s what’s so scary. I can’t think of a time where I’ve been okay like this. Not okay, happy. Truly and unquestionably happy. I’ve never been happier than when I’ve been with you.”

  I hold her tighter.

  “Don’t screw it up,” she says playfully.

  No. If there’s only one thing I get right, I plan for it to be this.

  * * *

  I’ve always known Alana was beautiful. I knew that from the first moment I laid eyes on her. I have to keep my attitude in check at the lustful glares she gets from men every night at work and the inconspicuous ones on a regular everyday basis. There is no question she’s one of the most beautiful women on the planet but seeing her in this simple white dress, her hair pinned up, with two white flowers in it and holding a bouquet just for me, she has never looked more beautiful to me. Her smile wide and magnificent the way it goes from small and nervous to relieved once we’re only inches apart.

  “You ready for this?” I ask her again quietly. It’s the only out she’ll ever get from me. The rest of her life she’s stuck with me. She’s only mine.

  “More than anything,” she tells me. I take her her lips in mine before a vow is spoken. There’s nothing anything can say to make her mine. She already was from the moment I saw her, from the moment she said yes. The rest of it is all for show. She had my thoughts since we first met, my lust since our first kiss, and my love as soon as she accepted it. It’s us against the world for a lifetime and come hell or high water, I’ll go against the whole damn world for he
r.

  Seven

  Megan

  My throat is so dry and my head is throbbing. My vision wobbly. How much did I drink? I look around for a water bottle. We usually keep them by the bed. And my heart clinches. This, this isn’t my room, our room…where the hell am I? My body starts to tremble when I look down and see that I’m naked, just a sheet covering my body. I scan the room for my clothes.

  What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?

  Blue.

  Red.

  Purple.

  Yellow.

  I’m going to throw up. I dry heave but nothing comes out other than stale air. How did I get here? Did someone kidnap me, no. I’m not tied up? Was I drugged? Possibly.

  I finally spot clothes, a black t-shirt and jeans. I grab them and frantically put them on. The room isn’t really big. There’s white paint on the walls, the bed I was just in, a TV mounted on the wall. But it’s nondescript other than that, almost like someone just moved in.

  “No. No. No no no no.”

  Tears are falling down my face. Think! What is the last thing I remember? I was with Kam at his family’s charity gala. Shit. I eye the door and the window, terrified of what to do. I grab some shoes near the bed. They’re men’s shoes, black Air Max, but I don’t care. I put them on and tie them tightly.

  I’m going to run.

  That’s what I’m going to do as fast as my legs can carry me. I approach the door, trying to turn my anxiety into courage.

  Stupid bitch. Stupid stupid bitch.

  “Shut up. Shut up!” I cover my ears but it’s coming from inside my head. I crack the door and hear a television on but it doesn’t look like anyone is out there. I take a deep breath and make a break for it. I run to the door, unlock it, and shoot down the stairs as fast as my legs can carry me. When I make it out on the street I gasp as much air as I can. I look around; I have no fucking idea where I am. I’m crying, tears streaming down my face as I try to get a grip of myself.

  “Pull it together.” I look around. The street is full of parked cars. There’s construction going on towards the end of the block and my heart leaps when I spot Kam’s truck. I run to it and pull on the door, thanking God it’s open. My keys and purse are both on the floor. I’m so happy I could scream. I grab my phone and lock the doors. I see twelve missed calls. They’re all from Kam and Blue.

  My hands are trembling as I start to call Kam but then I think about what to tell him. I have no clue what is going on, how I got here, why I was naked in someone’s bed. I have to get away from here, wherever here is. I manage to stop shaking and turn the car on and pull off. I don’t recognize any of these streets though. I drive a few blocks and pull into a gas station. I pull up Google Maps on my phone and put in my address. My heart starts to beat out of my chest when I see that I’m in Detroit. How the hell did I get here? The charity dinner was in Indiana, wasn’t it?

  You’re so pathetic.

  I try to tell myself there’s a reasonable explanation for this but from all the missed calls on my phone I can’t think of any. What do I tell Kam? I woke up in a strange bed naked. No one kidnapped me. I have his truck and my things are all in here. No one tried to stop me from leaving. I fucked up. I did something terrible, I know it. I won’t be able to explain this to him. There’s nothing for him to understand. I haven’t told him about everything. It wasn’t important. I thought I was okay since that was over. I cover my face with my hands, the tears not stopping. I’m so stupid.

  My phone rings again and it’s Kam. I’m terrified to answer. What do I tell him? I slam my hands on the steering wheel and once it stops ringing I open up my text messages. There’s so many messages from him.

  Where are you babe?

  Did you leave?

  Megan where are you I’m worried.

  Megan call me.

  What the hell is going on, call me ASAP.

  I’m calling the police if I don’t hear from you in the next hour.

  Please call me babe I’m worried out of my mind.

  I shake my head furiously in disbelief. The first text message was at seven yesterday, the last was five minutes ago.

  I have to let him know I’m okay, but I’m not.

  I am alive.

  I have to know what happened before I talk to him.

  I can’t talk to him.

  Get it together. I can do this.

  I finally manage to get a grip enough to text him back.

  “I’m okay. I’m sorry. I’ll call you soon.”

  I hit send, knowing that it’s such a pathetic excuse of a message, but I have no idea what else to say. I try to get my thoughts together, but they’re cloudy. I think hard. I remember the large elegant venue, me in a gorgeous dark evening gown, Kam in a breathtaking suit. Town cars and music and dancing and…and…

  Blue.

  I remember me and Blue talking about…I don’t remember…was it…

  My parents, I think?

  He had found them, the information. My heart starts to speed up. But what then, what the hell happened then? How did I end up here? I head into the gas station and grab a bottle of water, a doughnut, and a travel packet of Tylenol. I have to talk to Blue. I head back in the car and eat a few bites of my doughnut and drink down the pill and water. I text Blue call me a.s.a.p. make sure Kam or Katie is not around. Five minutes later I see Blue’s name on my caller ID.

  “Where the hell are you Megan? Kam is freaking the fuck out. He thought someone kidnapped you, the entire Indiana PD was about to be looking for your ass!” he says breathlessly.

  “I just told him I’m okay. I’m okay, I think,” I tell him, still unsure of what happened.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m in the fucking bathroom. Are you okay or not? Where are you?”

  “I’m in Detroit and I have no idea how I got here.”

  “What? I don’t understand,” he says, confused.

  “Last night we talked…did you find out about my parents?” I ask, gripping my forehead.

  “Yeah, I told you and as soon as I did you started demanding I tell you right then. What, you don’t remember any of this?” he asks, bewildered.

  “No nothing. What else happened?” I ask him reluctantly.

  “Jesus, Megan. You flipped out on me then you slapped George on your way out. I don’t know what happened with that but by the time we went to look for you, you were gone. Where are you?” he asks firmly.

  “I’m—” I look around for the address of the gas station.

  “Wait, Blue—you can’t tell them. Could you meet me with the info you have?” I cross my fingers hoping he’ll say yes.

  “Why can’t I tell them? What the fuck is going on?” he pleads.

  “I don’t know exactly but I can’t see Kam right now. I need to, I don’t know. I need to figure this out. My parents’ info though, if you could meet me with it.”

  “I can’t lie to them. Katie will blow a casket and Kam will kill me” he whines.

  “I’m not asking you to lie, I’m just asking for help.”

  If he doesn’t say yes I don’t know what I’ll do. I let out a desperate sigh.

  “Please.” I tell him before a silent prayer. I shut my eyes tightly and allow the desperation to seep through my voice. “I don’t have anyone else,” I beg him. There’s silence on the phone.

  “Okay. Give me a few hours.”

  “Thank you Blue,” I tell him, with as much appreciation as I can muster.

  Time’s up babe.

  Ian

  “I don’t think you’ve ever taken substantial vacation time, of course. You’ve been a great worker. Whatever you want I’ll have it approved.” My boss Ed nods as he inspects my print job.

  “Yeah, it’s time. I just want to put more time into my family,” I say to him over the machinery clanking in the background.

  “Congratulations on the wedding by the way. How is it going?” he asks. I think of his question. It’s been three months since she sa
id yes, since I became a husband, and my girlfriend my wife, my other half, or to get biblical—my rib. I never understood that saying before but now I get it. The wife is the rib because she’s a part of you; without her you’re not complete. I don’t think I was whole before her. She’s the part of me I didn’t know was missing, one of the best parts.

  “Better than I ever could have imagined.”

  “Good, good. Enjoy it while you can.” He chuckles. I hate when older guys who get frustrated and jaded because they married people they barely liked in the first place describe marriage as prison or hell. I look forward to the day when me and my girl are both old and grey and our grandkids are the highlight of our life.

  I head out of work, feeling free. Three weeks’ vacation after four years of work. Not the best, but not the worst. In three days we leave, hitting the highway, a cross country road trip—technically our honeymoon but I know Alana chose it so I could get some killer shots done. She’s really been encouraging me—or should I say threatening me—to get out there and expose my work. And she said she’d punch any prick in the nose that talks shit about it.

  My little spitfire.

  I look down at my phone. It’s my mom. We’re starting to be okay. Almost. She was furious when she found out me and Alana eloped but Pete must have convinced her to suck it up and accept my marriage and my life or get left out of it. I love my mom, she’s the first and only woman before Alana I’ve ever loved. But I won’t let anyone, not even her, make Alana’s life any harder than it has to be.

  “Hey Mom.”

  “Ian, finally. I just wanted to know if Alana eats pork. I know a lot of people don’t and I want to make sure she enjoys dinner.” She’s trying, I can hear it in her voice, and it make me smile.