All Grown Up

by Larissa de Silva

  “Whose car was it?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t you want to talk about something more interesting?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said. “That seems very interesting to me.”

  “Let’s go get some dinner,” he said. “Maybe food will quiet you down.”

  I snickered. He grabbed my hand and I felt his grip tighten around me. He pulled me out of the house and pulled me toward him on the porch, his arms finding my waist. He pressed his forehead against mine and I felt his breath tickling the skin on my nose.

  “I want to kiss you,” he said.

  “Don’t we usually leave dessert for after the date?” I replied, tilting my head up slightly to look into his eyes. “Isn’t that what we do?”

  “You think that kissing you is dessert?”

  I laughed, moving away from him. “It’s not normally an appetizer,” I replied. “I’m considered very sweet by most people.”

  “I’d like to meet them and tell them the truth,” he said.

  I laughed, throwing my head back. “We should get going,” I said. “Don’t we have reservations somewhere?”

  “Reservations? Who do you think I am, a Kennedy? We’re going to Denny’s.”

  “What?” I said, laughing.

  “No, I’m joking,” he said. “But we have no reservations anywhere. I thought we would do something a little more interesting than that.”

  “So a slightly higher end restaurant. Like…”

  “No,” he said. “No restaurants. We’re going to go pick up food, but we’re not going to eat it around other people, because trying to socialize in restaurants is the worst.”

  “So where are we going?”

  “You’re just going to have to trust me,” he said as he opened the passenger side door so I could climb into the car. “Do you trust me?”

  “Don’t make me answer that yet,” I said as I closed the door on him.

  I saw him laughing as he walked over to the driver’s side of the car.

  He put the key into the ignition and the car sputtered as he started it. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t get you home too late.”

  “I do turn into a pumpkin after midnight.”

  “Oh, I would like to see that,” he said as he sped away from my street. We talked about the weather for a little while, then about where he had ordered food from, and the longer I was in the car with him, the more comfortable I felt. It was weird, knowing I could just fall back into feeling like everything was good and easy with him, and it didn’t take very much. I felt as comfortable as I had when I was a kid, as if nothing had happened between us.

  As if nothing bad had happened between us.

  But it had, and I couldn’t just forget that. Even though it was clearly far too easy for me to.

  We drove out to a field in the middle of nowhere after stopping by a restaurant to get curbside pick-up. The smell of food wafted in from the back and my mouth watered as my stomach growled. We were way out in the sticks when he turned off into an unpaved street, which didn’t have any street lights illuminating it. The only lights we could see were the headlights from the car, and as we drove further away from civilization, it kept getting darker and darker.

  I looked at his face. “Where are we going, exactly?”

  He smiled, and I saw his teeth shine in the darkness. “I’m going to take you somewhere fun,” he said. “Do you want to go somewhere fun?”

  I nodded. “Sure,” I said. “But what is even out here?”

  “You’ll see soon.”

  He wasn’t wrong. He stopped in front of what looked like an empty lot. There were no lights or anything else, and I didn’t know what would be out here. If it had been anyone else, I might have been worried.

  But it wasn’t anyone else. It was him, and I trusted him.

  “Get the rest of the food,” he said and he grabbed as many of the plastic bags as he could. “We’re going to do something amazing.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Come with me.”

  After we both had a ton of things in our hands, we made our way into a field. He was holding up his phone as a light so that we wouldn’t stumble into anything. I was about to make a joke about how I would have worn something more appropriate than a dress if I had known about our plans, but I was instantly quiet when he helped me get past a large smattering of rocks. We took a sharp left, and there we were, in front of a prepared space for us to eat.

  There was a round metal desk with gorgeous metal seats flanking it, fairy lights decorating the dining area. A bottle of wine was sitting in the middle of the table, with two empty wine glasses covered by a cloth blanket which seemed to be held down with heavy coasters.

  My eyes widened as I looked at him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “Yeah, but I wanted to do this,” he replied as he slid a chair out for me. I sat down and looked at him, smiling. He put the food on the round table, and sat down in front of me. It wasn’t until he was settled that I flashed him a quick smile.

  “I meant it,” I said as he grabbed the wine and began to pour it into the wine glasses. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”

  “I didn’t have to,” he said. “But that seems irrelevant.”

  I took a sip of the wine, which was sweet and dry. “Still,” I said, looking right into his eyes. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”

  “I did, though,” he replied. “Apologizing to you didn’t seem like enough. I know I really fucked up, I get that, but I want you to… I want you to understand that I didn’t mean anything by it. I want you to understand that I get that I messed up and you might never forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m going to spend as much time as possible trying to make you happy.”

  “You do make me smile.”

  “That’s a start,” he replied, smiling at me. “Dig in. The food is going to get cold if we don’t eat it soon.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  2019

  We got back to my house at around twelve o’clock. We had spent the entire date laughing, and neither one of us had realized how late it was getting. It wasn’t until we were in front of my house that I realized how little I wanted the date to end.

  My gaze darted between the front door of my house and his face, and before I could think it through, I decided to invite him inside. I wanted him to leave, but I also didn’t. I didn’t want this to end. Maybe it wasn’t as bad, or as silly, as when we were kids.

  Maybe he had earned his right to forgiveness, I told myself. I wasn’t sure, but it felt like maybe he had, and that made a huge difference. I put my hand on his arm. “Do you want to come in?” I asked, my voice a whisper. “It’s late.”

  He looked me up and down. “Really?” he asked. “You’re sure?”

  “If you want to,” I said, biting down on my lower lip.

  “I want to,” he replied.

  He leaned in and kissed me on the lips, softly at first, his hand on my cheek. His hand slowly moved away from my cheek, and he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. He moved away from me for a few seconds, sighing deeply. “I just don’t want you to regret this,” he said.

  I laughed, throwing my head back. “Why would I regret this?” I asked. “Don’t worry. I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.”

  “And is this the right decision?” he said, his eyes shining.

  I licked my lips. “I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t care about whether this is the right decision or not. All I care about is that I want to make this decision.”

  His expression softened. “Okay,” he said. “I can’t ever say no to you.”

  I kissed him again, this time a little harder, going a little further every time, until my tongue was warring against his in his mouth. He kissed me back passionately, desperately, his hand on the back of my head, until I pulled away from him to catch my breath.

  “Wait,” I said. “Let’s finish this inside.”

  He
nodded, saying nothing, and practically jumped out of the driver seat. He walked over to my side of the car, opened the door, and grabbed me by the hand. He pulled me quickly to the porch, but I was practically running myself. As I unlocked the front door, he put his hand on the back of my neck and slowly moved his fingertips down the back of my neck, which sent a shiver down my spine. I bit down on my lower lip, then smiled as we both went into my house.

  I turned around while he closed the door behind him. The door practically shook the walls, and I felt like shaking myself as he approached me, putting an arm around my waist and holding me close. Even though his jeans were tight, I could tell how excited he was already. I felt the outline of his erection through the fabric of his jeans and as he pressed against me. I took a few steps back and I felt the flatness of a wall against my back.

  Without thinking about it, I wrapped my legs around his waist. He held me up, grinding against me, my hips thrusting as if they had a mind of their own.

  He leaned down, his voice low and sweet as he whispered in my ear. “Can I fuck you?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, fuck me.”

  He stuck a finger in the waistband of my panties and slowly slid them down my legs. I fumbled with the buttons of his jeans and took his cock out of his pants, groaning slightly as I felt the length and width of his erection. I was soaking wet as he threw my panties to the floor. He moved his hips down slightly and I guided him inside of me.

  He went slowly at first, finding his way inside me gently, until our gazes were held, and I nodded slightly. He still had me pinned up against the wall and slowly, but surely, he started going faster and faster, looking right into my eyes, fucking me as he stared right into my eyes, never wavering, never looking away.

  He closed his eyes for a second, tilting his head back, and he groaned. “Fuck,” he said. “Fuck, I’m going to come. Can I come inside you?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes.”

  He groaned, biting down on his lower lip, and thrusted himself into me. I felt pleasure spreading all over my body from my pelvis through to the tips of my fingertips, warmth all over my body as little explosions of pleasure happened underneath my skin. I felt my muscles tighten as I reached the peak of my orgasm and I was doubling over, unable to even control my body and let myself stay upright. Jody came at the same time, and he held me up as we both panted, trying our best to catch our breaths.

  He moved away from me as he set me down softly on the ground, kissing me on the lips after he did so. He laughed. “Okay,” he said. “I’m going to get some water. Do you want some?”

  “Yes,” I said. “And then, afterward, a shower?”

  He smiled at me. “Sure,” he said. “A shower sounds good.”

  He stayed until the morning. I didn’t have anywhere to be, I didn’t have anything to do, so I could have stayed there, talking to him for the entirety of the day.

  When I woke up early in the morning, the smell of breakfast came from the kitchen, and I heard the sound of whistling as the smell of coffee and bacon came in.

  I sat up, stretched, took a sip of the water I kept on my nightstand, and grabbed a robe to slip on my body. I felt nice and safe, comfortable, and it was nice to have him in my kitchen. I couldn’t say that it wasn’t.

  After enjoying the moment for a little while, I stood up and walked toward the kitchen. Jody was working on something and picked up his head to smile at me. “Good morning,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

  “Pretty well,” I said as I approached him. “How about you?”

  “Slept pretty well. That bed is really comfortable.”

  “Thanks. I invest in sleep.”

  “As you should,” he replied. “It was a great investment.”

  “Thanks,” I said, looking around. “What are you making?”

  “Well, since I promised you Denny’s, and didn’t deliver—”

  “Underdelivered, some would say—”

  “I decided that the least I could do is make you breakfast.”

  “That’s fair,” I replied. “Do you need help?”

  “No,” he said. “There’s coffee on the pot, if you want any.”

  I walked over to where he was and my body brushed against his as I poured myself a cup of coffee. “How do you take your coffee?”

  “Black,” he said. “It’s the best way.”

  “Agreed,” I replied, pouring him a cup of coffee as I watched him open cupboards to find where I stored my plates and cups. He served us breakfast without saying much, scrambled eggs with mushrooms and tomatoes, and I dug in immediately.

  “I didn’t know you were such a good cook,” I said after a little while.

  “Ah, there are lots of things you don’t know about me.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, if I told you, I’d be spoiling the surprise.”

  “Man,” I said. “Not even one thing?”

  He smirked. “Okay, one thing,” he said. “I can do a handstand for twenty seconds.”

  “No, you can’t,” I replied. “You’re not a kid.”

  His smile widened. “So what I’m hearing is, you want to see me try.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “No,” I said. “I really don’t.”

  “If you just give me a few minutes—”

  “You really don’t have to do a handstand,” I said. “I believe you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Okay, I don’t, but I also don’t want you to knock any of my stuff down when you inevitably tumble down,” I said. “I’m not looking forward to that.”

  He laughed. “I can do it against the wall,” he said. “To avoid any damages.”

  “Yes, that would be good,” I said. “I still don’t think you should do it. Maybe show me another hidden talent?”

  “I’ll have to think,” he said, then bit down on his lower lip. “I’m really good with my tongue.”

  I laughed. “I really had fun last night,” I said. “I didn’t think I was going to ever go out with you again, but I remembered why I liked it so much. You’re fun.”

  “That’s one thing that hasn’t changed,” he said. “I suppose.”

  “See, not that much has changed,” I replied, looking him up and down.

  He stared at me for a second before his gaze fell. “Don’t,” he said. “That’s not fair.”

  “It might not be fair,” I replied. “But you know that it’s on my mind.”

  “I want you to be part of my life,” he said. “Not just… not just dating or whatever, but you know, anything that is part of my life. I want you to be part of it.”

  “Seriously?” I asked as I raised my eyebrows.

  “Yes,” he said. “Seriously. If you want me to, I’ll do it.”

  “I… yes,” I said after a second. “That’s what I want. I just…”

  “What?”

  “You seemed really hesitant to allow me back into your life,” I said.

  “Because it could put you in danger,” he replied, looking right into my eyes. “This isn’t about what I want, Jess. This is about what is good for you.”

  “And you’re saying you’re not good for me.”

  He nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “They are not good for you. Being with me would not be good for you.”

  “What do you think is going to happen?” I said, leaning forward and putting my hand on his. His skin was cool, and even from where my hand was, I could feel how accelerated his pulse was. He was nervous, more nervous than he had been during our date, which was somewhat baffling. Given what he was saying to me, I supposed I could see where he was coming from, but it was still hard to wrap my mind around it.

  “I think—something bad,” he replied. “Something bad could happen, and I don’t know, if it did, I would never forgive myself.”

  “Can you be a little more specific?”

  He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I would rather not.”

  “Try.”

  “That’s okay,�
�� he replied. “I’m good.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I want to be part of your life again, and all of your life, but I can’t do it if there are going to be conditions like this.”

  “My life is complicated,” he said. “It could make you vulnerable.”

  “So change your life,” I replied, looking right at him.

  He looked a little taken aback, then smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Okay. I will.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  2019

  I wanted to stop thinking about him. I wanted to stop thinking about the night that we had spent together, about the way I felt when I was in his arms. He had made me feel so beautiful, so safe, so… Powerful. Every time that he looked at me, I felt my entire body tremble. It was as if the spell he had on me couldn’t be broken, and there was a part of me that wanted to keep it that way.

  I thought about him a lot. I didn’t want to, but every time I had some downtime he was the first person that would pop into my thoughts. I could tell that he was thinking about me too, from his text messages, from the fact that I didn’t go more than a few hours without hearing from him. We were both falling for each other again. And it would have just been sweet if it didn’t feel scary because despite my best efforts, I was terrified.

  My first fears were no longer relevant. The trauma of him denying that he knew who I was, and was involved with me, seemed very small in comparison to our current problems. I understood that he talked around being a criminal. He never admitted it, but he never had to admit it. I had seen him with a knife sticking out of his arm, and seen him as he had brought his friends--if he could even call them friends--into the ER.

  The truth was that I didn’t ask questions because I didn’t want to know the answers. There was an unspoken agreement between us that things couldn’t get to that point, that it was better for me if I didn’t know anything. I could’ve pushed, but I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to know about him putting his life at risk, I didn’t want to know what he did to earn money, and I didn’t want to know where he was if it was going to worry me.

  Instead, I operated through heavy denial, telling myself that he was doing other stuff like gardening and going for long walks.