“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on, Nell. You know what I’m talking about. You make out, and it gets more and more intense. And eventually, you just know where it’s going, and you have to keep stopping yourselves before it goes there accidentally. Like I said, I really truly did want to. Please don’t think Jason was putting all this pressure on me. It wasn’t that, and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to, because I did. I just…I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I think I understand,” I said. “Making out with Kyle is starting to reach that point of having to stop ourselves before we get carried away.”
She took my hands in hers. “Well, just do what we did. Talk about it. If it’s going to happen anyway, we figured it would be best to plan it, make sure it happens on our terms, you know?”
I nodded, but I had to push away the dizzying storm of thoughts rushing through my head from the conversation. Becca hung out for a while longer, finished Teen Mom, which suddenly took on a whole new level of meaning, and then went home.
It took me a long time to fall asleep after Becca left. All I could think of was how I’d had to push myself away from Kyle that evening, how I’d felt like I was drowning in him, losing myself in his kisses. How easy it would be to just let go and let myself be swept away.
I didn’t want to have any doubts, though. I didn’t want to show up at Becca’s house afterward and cry because I hadn’t been a hundred-percent ready to have sex with Kyle.
A voice whispered deep in my head, though, and asked me if I’d ever be completely ready, if it was even possible to be a hundred-percent ready for something like that.
Two weeks later, late on Friday night, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Kyle’s Camaro as we carved through a thick blanket of drifting snow. Our favorite song, our song, was playing on the radio: Jason Mraz’s “Lucky,” and I sang along. Kyle was frowning in concentration, the brights on and still barely able to pierce the pall of falling white. He was going barely thirty on a dirt road near our houses which I knew he knew like the back of his hand.
“This snow is effing crazy,” Kyle said. “I can’t see ten feet in front of me, and my back tires keep slipping.”
“Maybe we should pull over and see if it lets up a little,” I suggested.
“No, I’ll be fine. We’re not far from home anyway. I’ll just take it slow.”
I rolled my eyes, having known even as I suggested it that he wouldn’t pull over and wait. We rounded a curve, and Kyle let out a curse as the back tires fishtailed. I peered through the snow ahead of us and saw the reason for Kyle’s panic: a huge doe standing in the middle of the road, eyes gleaming blue-green-silver in the headlights, stock still and frozen and getting larger by the second. He cursed again and downshifted, trying to get the car under control, but the Camaro only fishtailed worse before twisting into a flat spin.
“Move, goddamn it, you stupid deer!” Kyle shouted as we spun closer to the animal.
Kyle knew how to drive in the snow, however, and he pumped the brakes, turned into the spin, and touched the gas. The Camaro went through a third complete three-sixty, but it was slowing on the dirt, gravel, and snow mixture. The front quarter of the car thudded into the deer, and the car shook violently on the impact. I screamed and braced my hands on the dashboard but was unable to look away as the deer was knocked backward, stumbling and falling to its side in the snow. Kyle was able to get the car to a stop, the lights bathing the motionless deer in the middle of the road, snow like a curtain of white all around us. We were both panting, Kyle’s hands clenching the wheel in a white-knuckle grip.
I sucked in a deep breath and let it out, glancing at Kyle. He met my eyes, and we both cracked up in semi-hysterical laughter. I lunged over the gearshift and wrapped my arms around his neck, trembling now that it was over, and the rush of adrenaline hit me. The seatbelt was cutting into my chest, so I clicked it free and held tighter to Kyle. He shoved the shifter into Park and then pulled me closer. I clumsily clambered across the console so I was straddling him, clinging to his neck. He took my face in his hands and pulled me into a deep, heated kiss.
I lost myself in him then, gave myself over completely. Adrenaline was coursing through me, powering me with lightning-hot energy. I clenched my fists in the hair at the back of his head, then clawed my hands across his shoulders. My fingers caught the neck of his shirt, and my palm slipped under the cotton to stutter over bare flesh. I gasped at the heat of his skin, at the electricity zinging through my body at the feel of his skin.
And then he touched me. Oh, god. His fingers curled under my coat and under my shirt and palmed the hot flesh of my back. I arched into his touch, felt his tongue dart out to taste mine, and I felt dizzy, subsumed, drowning wonderfully. I brought my hands around, feeling the ridges of his abs and the slabs of muscle on his chest. He mimicked my motion, sliding his hands around to trace my belly with his fingers, and then our kiss broke, leaving our lips touching, eyes open and sparking intensity between us. I held my breath as he brought his palms upward, bit my lip and drew a deeper breath as his hands cupped the lace of my bra.
I felt my nipples harden under his touch, even through the bra, not looking away from him, giving him tacit permission to keep touching me. I shifted backward so my weight was on his knees and my back against the steering wheel. He hesitated with his hands cupping both breasts, and I could see him thinking, wanting to push the moment. He wanted to touch bare skin. I wanted to let him. I liked his hands on my flesh, liked the lightning thrill of his hands on my skin.
I reached up and under my shirt, brushed the strap of my bra off one shoulder, then the other. Kyle curled his fingers under the edge of the cup, tugged it down and lifted my breast free. My shirt was still hanging between us, my coat unzipped and dangling open. The heater was still blasting, overheating both of us. I fumbled with one hand and cut the heater off, then returned my gaze to Kyle. He was watching me with a hooded gaze, warring with himself, his desire fighting reason.
I felt the same war. I wanted this with him. Here and now, I wanted him. Nothing else mattered. A voice in the back of my head reminded me of my conversation with Becca a couple weeks before. I pushed the voice aside. Kyle’s hands were roaming my belly, my sides, and returning to my breasts. He had both of them free of the cups now, and was exploring my breasts with his palms and fingers.
I shrugged out of my coat, and then, before I could second-guess myself, I pulled my shirt over my head. Kyle sucked in a breath, a giddy smile curving his lips.
“God, you’re so hot,” he breathed, taking in my pale skin and the dark circles of my areolae and the pink buttons of my nipples.
I bit my lip as he cupped one breast, rubbing the nipple in circles with his thumb, squeezed my eyes shut in a rush of nerves, feeling suddenly exposed, shame fighting with desire. I wanted this. I liked this. It was okay, right? This was Kyle, my boyfriend and best friend, and I loved him.
The last thought came a shock, drawing a gasp from me. I love him? Did I? My heart swelled and ached every time I was near him, and the thought of not being with him scared me. That was love, right? I wanted to be with him all the time, every moment.
“I wish I could see all of you right now,” he said, caressing my breast.
A bolt of need shot through me. I wanted him to see all of me. But here, now? Like this? I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it.
“Not here, though,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. “I want you, Nell. I’m not gonna lie.”
He withdrew his hands from my skin, and I nearly whimpered at the loss of his touch. I stuffed myself back in my bra but didn’t put on my shirt. Kyle’s eyes were bright and intense.
“I want you, too,” I said.
“But I want it to be right. I want it to be special.” He seemed to be struggling with himself.
I felt my heart squeeze at his words and leaned forward to kiss him, taking his face in my hands. “And that’s why I love
you,” I whispered, not thinking.
He froze, his eyes wide, searching mine. “What?”
I bit my lip, worried it was too soon. “I—” My eyes slid closed as I fought for the right words. I decided to own it. “I said, that’s why I love you. I do. I love you, Kyle.”
His hands slipped around to skate up and down my back before coming to rest on my hips in a familiar, sensual, incredible touch. I suddenly loved his hands there, wanted them there forever. His hands on my hips above the waist of my low-rise jeans felt perfect.
“I’m not gonna say it yet,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t want you to think I’m just saying it back because you did. But I do.”
The thought had crossed my mind. “You do?”
He shook his head, thumbs rubbing in circles on my hipbones. “Yep.”
I smiled and leaned in for another kiss. “Good. You should love me.”
He chuckled into my lips. “Oh, I do.” His hands roamed up my sides, and I arched my back out to allow him access to my breasts. “Especially these. I really like these.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Oh, really? Especially those? Just those? You only love me for my boobs?”
“Hmmm.” He pretended to consider, then slid his hands around to my back, hesitated, then descended to cup my backside. “And this. I like this, too.”
I slid my palms up under his shirt and pinched his nipples, eliciting a squawk from him. “Try again, buster.”
He laughed and pulled me into a hug, whispering into my hair. “I’m teasing, Nell. I love you for you. For who you are.”
I turned my face up to kiss his jaw. “I know. I was teasing, too.”
With the heater off, cold had sneaked into the car, and I felt goosebumps cover my skin. Kyle felt it, too, and handed me my shirt, cranking the heat back up. I slid off his lap and put my shirt on.
“I wonder if the deer is dead,” Kyle said.
I peered over the hood at the shape in the still-falling snow. “It’s not moving.” I glanced at him as I zipped my coat. “Should we check?”
“I’ll look,” he said. “Stay here.”
I snorted. “No way! I wanna see, too.”
He shook his head, huffing a laugh. We both got out, stepping softly through the powdery snow. Flakes settled on my nose and in my hair, covering me almost instantly in a cold dusting of white. I wrapped my arms around my middle and leaned into Kyle’s side. He stopped a few feet away from the deer, put a hand on my shoulder to keep me in place, then moved forward again. A tense silence stretched between us, the engine rumbling behind us, headlights bathing us in a swath of brightness that pierced the otherwise dark winter night.
I watched as Kyle carefully approached the deer. He extended a toe to touch the animal’s side, nudging gently. Nothing. I let out a breath. Kyle moved forward a bit more, crouched, extended a hand to touch the doe’s side.
He turned back to me, surprised. “She’s still alive. Still breathing.”
“What do we do?” I asked. “We can’t just leave her here.”
He held his hands out in an “I don’t know” gesture. “She might just be unconscious, or if she’s hurt somehow…I don’t know, Nell.”
At that moment, the deer’s hoof twitched, and then her flank shuddered and she huffed out a breath. Kyle scrambled backward, cursing in shock as the doe flailed wildly, gathered her feet under her, and trotted a few steps away, stopping to regard us with doleful eyes and swiveling ears. Kyle was on his butt in the snow, watching the deer as she gazed at us for a long moment, then bounded off across the road.
“Shit!” Kyle said, standing up and brushing himself off. “That honestly scared the crap out of me. I think I might’ve peed a little.”
I laughed so hard I had to clutch his arm to stay upright.
We drove home the rest of the way without incident, but the memory of the moment we’d shared in the car was foremost in our minds. We didn’t kiss for as long as we normally did before I got out at my driveway. I knew the power of getting carried away now, and out of the heat of the moment, I knew I still wasn’t ready. I didn’t think Kyle was, either.
Chapter 3
Going to the Hotel
Valentine’s Day
I was a little jittery during school, absentminded, wondering what Kyle had planned for us. I knew he knew it was Valentine’s Day, and I knew he had something planned, as he’d hinted at something special. We’d been careful the last couple of weeks, keeping our kisses calm and under control. We both knew, in an unspoken way, that if we let ourselves get carried away, it would be too easy to simply not stop.
We had to talk about it at some point. I knew we had to. He knew we had to. But we kept avoiding it. Which was weird in a way, because we were both horny, hormonal teenagers. I knew he wanted it, and I did, too. But we were both scared, I think, because we knew that would be another line crossed, a more significant line.
Just in case, though, I’d gone with Becca’s cousin to get birth control, and I’d been taking it for about a week. I hadn’t told Kyle, though. Another thing I figured I probably should do, but couldn’t ever seem to find the right time for.
Sixth period finally ended, and I met Kyle at his car. He grinned at me as he opened my car door and closed it behind me.
“Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing tonight?” I asked.
He wrinkled his brow, as if confused. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”
I stared at him, trying to decide if he was joking, or if I had misinterpreted his hints. “You’re kidding, right?”
At the warning tone in my voice, he burst into laughter. “Yes, Nell, I’m kidding. No, I’m not gonna tell you. Both of our parents know we’re going to be out late, though. I’ve already cleared everything with them. Our temporary curfew for tonight is two a.m.”
I cut my eyes at him. “Two? Planning on keeping me out that late, huh, Kyle?”
He blushed. “Maybe.”
I took a deep breath, knowing I had to broach the subject. I didn’t think he would. “About tonight. Are we…I mean…if we’re staying out late, does that mean you’re planning on us—” I couldn’t get the words out.
Kyle fiddled with the gearshift, chewing on his lower lip. Finally he glanced at me as we pulled to a stop at a red light. “Look, I know what you’re getting at, and…I’ve made arrangements. You know, in case that’s what we want. But we don’t have to. I want it to be right.”
“You’ve made arrangements? What does that mean?”
He blushed again, redder than ever. “We have a room at the Red Roof Inn. It’s just down the road from where we’re having dinner.”
I tried to joke. “Getting a bit presumptuous, are we, Mr. Calloway?”
Kyle grinned at me, but we both knew the joke had fallen flat. “Just…in case.”
A thought struck me, and I blurted it out before I had a chance to over-think it. “Kyle? Have you thought that maybe we’re not ready if we can’t even talk about it without getting uncomfortable?”
He laughed, a nervous sound. “Yeah, that thought has crossed my mind.”
“Are we doing this because it’s what all our friends are doing?”
He glanced at me in irritation. “No! I mean, Jason told me about him and Becca, and I know Aaron and Kyla have done it, too, but no. No. And we’re not doing anything, necessarily. I just wanted to have the option available.”
I laughed, more at myself than anything else. “I don’t know if I’m touched that you thought ahead, or weirded out that you assumed we would.”
“I didn’t assume anything, Nell.” Kyle sounded almost angry. “I just—you know what, yeah. I did assume. I mean, I really want to be with you, Nell. I know we’re young, but I love you. I think we’re ready.”
I stared at him: he’d said the words. “We’re sixteen, Kyle.” I quirked an eyebrow at him. “And aren’t you supposed to wait until a romantic moment during dinner to tell me you love me? The middle of an argument doesn’t seem like
the best time for it, you know?”
“Is this an argument?”
I shrugged. “Kind of? I don’t know. I don’t want it to be.”
“Me, neither. And I guess you’re right, but it’s out there now. I do love you. I’ve been wanting to say it to you for weeks now, but I’ve been too chicken. I was planning on telling you tonight. I had the whole thing scripted. Like, actually written out.” He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of lined notebook paper, edges ragged with ripped-out spiral-bound tags.
* * *
I know we’re young, it read. And I know most people would say we’re just kids, or too young to know what love is. But screw that. I’ve known you my whole entire life. We have shared everything together. Every important thing in our lives has happened together. We learned to ride bikes together and we learned to swim together and we learned to drive cars together. We failed 8th grade algebra together. (Remember how nasty Mr. Jenkins was? How many times were we sent to the office that semester?). And now we’re learning how to fall in love together. I don’t care what any one else says. I love you. I’ll always love you, no matter what happens with us in the future. I love you now and forever.
* * *
Your loving boyfriend,
Kyle
* * *
I read the note through several times. I wasn’t aware that I was crying until something plopped onto the crinkled, much-folded page, spreading a wet blue stain over the ink. This changed everything.
“I love you, too, Kyle.” I laughed, even as I sniffled. “This note is so sweet. So perfect. Thank you.”
He shrugged. “It’s true. I know this wasn’t maybe the most romantic way for me to tell you I love you, but—”
The Nice Boxset Page 9
