Knowing he’ll more than likely stop me, I dare to slide my fingers down his back and fiddle with the hem of his shirt, stealing a touch. When he doesn’t budge, I test him further, delving my fingers under the fabric and caressing his bare flesh. I hold my breath, waiting for him to panic, which makes the kiss instantly turn awkward because I eventually have to suck in a huge breath.
“One . . . two . . . three,” he whispers under his breath then kisses me deeper, kisses me through the awkwardness and back into the intensity of the moment.
I’m not sure what’s up with the counting, and I don’t really care. He’s letting me touch him more than I ever have. I grasp onto the moment, inching my hands up his back and tracing a soft path up his spine. He either shakes or shivers from my touch—maybe a little bit of both.
“I can stop,” I tell him when his breathing shifts to erratic.
He takes a few measured breaths. “No . . . You’re okay. I can do this.”
I sketch a line up and down his back. “So, are you . . . ? I mean, you can touch me.” I actually blush. Yeah, I, Lyric Scott, blush. It’s something I thought would never happen, and it feels so freaking weird.
Thankfully, Ayden’s face is too close to mine to notice.
He nods, either to himself or to me, before he slips a finger into my panties. Nerves bubble in my stomach, about to burst. I try to prepare myself, but the instant he slides a finger inside me, I’m lost.
Gone. Gone. Gone.
Lost inside you.
Lost inside me.
Lost inside us.
I feel so alive.
Breathing, heart beating,
Needing, needing, needing.
I can hardly breathe,
Can hardly think
Past the pleading, pleading, pleading.
By the time I return to reality, I’m out of breath, and my pulse is soaring. Ayden is staring down at me with so much desire blazing in his eyes I barely recognize him.
“Was that okay? I mean, you don’t regret it, right?” He smooths strands of my blonde hair out of my eyes.
“No regrets at all,” I assure him breathlessly, fighting back a grin, but eventually, a smile plasters across my face.
His fingers splay across my cheek and he traces a line below my eye. “You’re so beautiful. I just . . .” He sighs and rolls off me.
“What are you doing?” I pout, rotating on my side.
He stares up at the ceiling with his arm draped across his forehead. “I just worry about you all the time. I mean, you’re so happy and outgoing, and I worry I’m going to ruin it.”
“You don’t ruin anything, and you need to stop saying that.”
“Not even when you can’t touch me?”
I roll over to him and swing my leg across him, pushing myself up and straddling him. “I can’t touch you, huh?”
His hands mold to my waist as he grasps on to me. “You know what I mean. We can’t even take our relationship further.” His cheeks redden as he looks away.
“We can’t?” I challenge, reaching for the bottom of my shirt. I lift it up and tug it over my head, shaking out my hair. “I think we take it further every day.”
His breathing speeds up as his grey eyes drink me in. “I’ve been working on some stuff to help calm me down when I’m panicking,” he whispers. “I want to get better for you.”
“Is that what the counting is about?”
He nods. “My therapist taught me some breathing exercises and stuff.”
“While I love that you’re trying, I still need you to know that it doesn’t matter to me. I want to be with you, no matter what.”
He leans up and kisses me, his hand sliding around my back. I shiver from the graze of his fingers against my flesh as he fumbles with the clasp of my bra. Once he gets it unfastened, the straps fall from my shoulders, and the cool air nips at my skin. Even though I’m pretending to be as cool as a freaking cucumber, my heart slams against my chest.
“Tell me if I need to slow down,” he whispers against my lips.
Instead of telling him to go further, I grab his hands and place them on me. He groans from the touch, seeming in pain. But he has to be enjoying this since I can feel his happiness pressing between my thighs.
“Your skin’s so soft,” he murmurs, caressing the sensitive spot of flesh to the side of my breast.
I softly sketch his jawline with my fingertip. “So’s yours. And, one day when you’re ready, I’ll be able to touch you like you touch me.”
His hands continue to explore my body, his fingers scorching hot against my flesh. “What if I’m never ready?”
“You will be, Ayden. You’ve come a long way already.”
He sucks in a breath through his nose then pushes up and slams his lips to mine while his hand glides to my breast, his thumb grazing my nipple.
“You taste like cookies,” he breathes softly through kisses.
“You taste like . . .” I trail off at the sound of a startled gasp from behind us.
“Oh, shit.” I scramble off Ayden, grab my shirt, and press it to my chest.
“I’m sorry,” Lila says from the doorway with her hand over her eyes. “I should have knocked first.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Ayden sputters, bolting upright in the bed. “I mean, you shouldn’t have had to, because we shouldn’t have been in here, doing this . . . doing stuff.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Lila remains quiet with her hands over her eyes. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to give you guys exactly one minute to get dressed and meet me downstairs. Then we’re going to have a talk. And, Lyric, I’m calling your parents and having them come over, as well.”
I pull a face. Great. This is going to be so awkward. “Okay.”
“Good.” She hurries away, leaving the door wide open.
I quickly put my bra on then yank my shirt over my head. “Well, looks like the cat’s out of the bag now,” I say as I hop off the bed.
“This is so bad.” Ayden stands up, wrapping his arms around his head, freaking out.
“Yeah, but we were going to tell them eventually.” I adjust my shirt into place.
He paces the floor in front of his bed. “But not like this . . . not after she saw me. And I need to prepare myself for how disappointed your parents are going to be.”
“Disappointed?” Confused, I step in front of him, forcing him to stop moving. “Why would they be disappointed? A little angry, sure, but they’ll get over it.”
He gulps. “Not over what happened. With me. I doubt they’re going to be happy that you’re with me.”
I gape at him. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“I know who I am.” He refuses to look at me, staring at a poster on the wall. “I have so many problems . . . My life is so fucked up. You’re so perfect, and they’re not going to want me ruining that for you.”
“First of all, I’m not perfect, and my parents definitely don’t think I am. There’ve been many lectures and punishments proving how imperfect I am, just like everyone else in the world. And, second of all, I honestly think they’ve been expecting this to happen between us.”
He shakes his head, his jaw set tight. “I highly doubt that.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous right now, and I’m going to prove it.”
I grab his hand and march for the door, ready to face the music. Ready to prove him wrong.
He is good for me.
Everyone knows it.
Everyone knows just as much as I do that we’re meant to be together.
I’M A NERVOUS WRECK GOING downstairs. Even though I knew our relationship would eventually be discovered, I expected it to happen later on and definitely not under such embarrassing circumstances. Now, they’re really going to start keeping an eye on me.
“Dude, breathe,” Lyric mutters under her breath as we reach the bottom of the stairway. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
I wish that were true. Tonight was so amazing—touching her like that, watching her fall apart beneath me. She tastes and feels so good that, if I had my way, I’d spend every hour of my life feeling her skin and kissing her.
Life would be so much easier if that were possible, but that’s hardly plausible. The reality of the situation is ugly and brutal and is about to become a whole lot more so.
My heart is hammering in my chest as we walk into the living room. Our hands are linked together, but the moment I catch sight of Ethan and Lila, I wrench mine away.
Lyric sighs at my movement then plops down on the sofa, appearing completely comfortable.
“So, what’s the punishment?” she asks, crossing her legs and relaxing back in the sofa.
“That’s for your parents to decide,” Lila replies with aggravation written all over her face. “But I’m just going to say that you are way too comfortable about the situation, young lady.”
“I’m not too comfortable. Not really,” Lyric protests. “I just know that this shouldn’t be as big of a deal as you guys are going to make it. I mean, from the stories I’ve heard you guys and my parents tell each other when you guys drink too much wine, you all had sex by the time you were our age.”
Lila’s lips part in shock. “You’re having sex?”
“No, we’re not,” I interrupt, my voice higher than normal. “We were just . . .” I trail off, my cheeks warming with my mortification.
Ethan offers me a sympathetic look, seeming about as uneasy as I am.
“Whether we are or aren’t having sex is beside the point.” Lyric shoots me a dirty look from over her shoulder. “The point is that we’re legally adults, and if we were having sex, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
I press her with a stressing look. You’re making this worse, I mouth.
She carries my gaze with determination, but then sighs. “Fine, I’ll let us get our lecture. I was just trying to prove a point.”
Lila and Ethan sit with their mouths hanging open, at a loss for words. The room goes so silent everyone can probably hear the thunderous beat of my heart.
After a minute passes, I sink down on the opposite side of the sofa from Lyric. When the front door swings open, though, I spring up from the sofa and decide to sit on the chair across the room, way, way far away from Lyric.
“So, what’d they do now?” Mr. Scott asks, rubbing his hands together as he enters the room.
Beside him, Mrs. Scott doesn’t look as relaxed. I almost wonder if she already knows what’s going on.
“I . . .” Lila starts, but stops herself. “Well, I guess there’s no easy way to put it other than I caught them, um, messing around in the bedroom.”
Mr. Scott’s expression instantly plummets. “You caught them doing what?”
I slouch lower in the chair with my head ducked and fix my attention on the floor.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Lyric intervenes. “It’s not like we were having sex or anything.”
“Not that big of a deal.” Mr. Scott seems irritated, which kind of surprises me.
Out of the two of them, he has always been more laid back than Lyric’s mother.
“Oh, don’t seem so shocked,” Mrs. Scott says, sounding calmer than all of them. “She’s eighteen, and her best friend’s a guy she spends every waking hour with. Sounds a little bit familiar, doesn’t it?”
“You were nineteen,” Mr. Scott argues. “And that was different. We were both more mature than her.”
“Hey,” Lyric argues, offended, “I’m mature.”
“Yeah, okay. We were so mature,” Mrs. Scott talks over Lyric, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “We never did anything reckless at all.”
“Well, okay, I get your point, but still . . . You and I aren’t like our parents,” Mr. Scott replies defensively. “We have rules. We need to put those rules into play and ground her or something.”
I still haven’t looked up, my eyes trained on the floor as I wait for one of them to say something negative about Lyric being with me. But they continue on about their pasts as if they’ve forgotten about the problem and the other people in the room, listening to their every word.
Finally, they must remember that other people are around, because Mrs. Scott hisses, “Maybe we should talk to Lyric about this at home.”
“Sounds good to me,” Mr. Scott agrees, clearly annoyed.
I don’t look up even though I feel Lyric’s eyes on me.
“They’re gone. You can look up now,” Ethan says after the front door clicks shut.
I elevate my gaze to find that Ethan and Lila are watching me with concern. Their change in demeanor throws me for an unexpected turn.
I wait for them to say something, punish me, tell me how badly I messed up. Instead, they remain silent for a mind racing amount of time before they exchange a look, and then Ethan gets to his feet.
“You want to go out to the garage and help me change the oil in the truck?” Ethan asks me, although it’s not really a question.
Nodding, I stand up and follow him through the house and out the back door. It’s past seven o’clock at night, and usually, the family is sitting around the table, eating dinner. I’m guessing tonight we might be breaking the routine, though.
Ethan doesn’t say much as we start working on the oil. I hand him tools whenever he asks for them and help him when he needs it. So much time ticks by that I don’t think he’s going to bring up what happened. When he finishes, he cleans the oil off his hands, and then an uneasy look crosses his face.
My lecture and punishment are coming, and I tell myself I can handle it, that I’ve been through way worse.
“So, you and Lyric, huh?” He tosses the rag aside on the shelf and shuts the hood of the truck. “Can’t say I’m that surprised.”
“I’m sorry I messed up,” I tell him because I don’t know what else to say. The fact that he doesn’t think it’s surprising is baffling to me.
He reclines against the front of the truck with his arms folded. “You didn’t really mess up. I was young once, too. I get it.”
I rest against the shelf behind me. “I’m not sure Mr. Scott would agree with you. He seemed pissed. I’m afraid he’s not going to let me spend any more time with her.”
He waves me off. “He’ll get over it. He just needs some time to cool off.”
“If it helps, I promise nothing like that will happen again.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He heads for the door. “Just make sure that you’re careful with stuff, okay?”
Is this some sort of subtle safe sex talk? Why isn’t everyone freaking out more?
“Okay,” I reply uneasily as we leave the garage.
When we reach the porch, he stops to pat me on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid, even if you don’t always think so.”
I feel lost. It somehow feels like he knows my fear of unworthiness. “Thanks.” I start to wonder if maybe Dr. Gardingdale was right. Maybe my unworthiness is in my head, my own inner demon that no one else can see. I only wish I could find a way to get completely past it.
Wish on a thousand stars that, one day, somehow, my life will be normal.
DINNER IS PRETTY NORMAL. THE only exception is Fiona teasing me about Lyric, but I can handle that. Thankfully, Kale has moved on from his crush on Lyric, so I don’t have to worry about him getting upset.
“I can’t believe you guys fooled around with the door open,” Fiona teases with a smirk as she butters a roll.
“Fiona Gregory,” Lila warns as she passes the bowl of corn to Everson, “leave your brother alone.”
Fiona dramatically rolls her eyes but does as she’s told, keeping her lips zipped.
“Now, let’s talk about something else,” Lila says cheerfully. “Does anyone have anything exciting happening in their life?”
“I finally asked Mandy out,” Kale says, cutting into his steak. “We’re going to a movie on Friday, if that’s okay?
”
“Who’s Mandy?” Ethan asks, pouring himself some wine. “I thought you had a thing for Lyric.” He pulls a whoops face. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t go there, right?”
“I stopped liking Lyric when I found out Ayden was dating her.” Kale reaches across the table for the butter.
Lila stares at Kale in shock. “Wait? How long have you known about them?”
Kale gives a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t know. For, like, a couple of months.”
Lila’s eyes narrow on me. “You two have been together for months?”
“Um . . .” I rub the back of my neck. “Kind of.”
“I figured as much when I saw you guys backstage at the concert,” Ethan absent-mindedly remarks as he drenches his steak in barbeque sauce.
“And what happened backstage?” Lila seems to grow angrier by the second.
Ethan sets down the bottle of sauce then picks up his fork and knife. “I thought I caught them when they were about to kiss.”
“Why didn’t you say anything until now?” she asks, sounding hurt.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that, but I knew, if it was true, everyone would act all crazy, which you guys did.” He starts slicing his steak. “I figured I’d let them tell you when they were ready and give them some time without constantly being pressured.”
Lila’s shoulders slump in defeat. “All right, you have a point.” She frowns as if greatly disappointed by that fact. “You’re off the hook.”
“Thanks,” Ethan says, shooting me a discreet smile.
I chuckle under my breath and reach for the bowl of potatoes.
“So, I want to go to football camp this summer,” Everson announces, breaking the silence.
I’m extremely grateful as the conversation shifts from me to him. I remain fairly quiet for the rest of dinner, lost in my thoughts about what happened in my bedroom with Lyric. How she traced her fingers up and down my back. How I was terrified out of my mind, afraid of the memories clipping at the surface. Afraid because . . . It felt too fucking nice. I found myself wanting to explore more, and that scared me out of my goddamn mind.
I’ve never felt like that before.
Unraveling You Series: The Complete Set Page 35
