by RH Tucker
Chapter 16
Veronica
Everything about today is awkward, nervous smile after awkward, nervous smile. It started before Cindy picked me up in the afternoon. My family got together and wished me a happy birthday and then said they wanted to have a party tonight. I thanked them and then proceeded to lie to everyone, telling them that Cindy was putting together a party for me with our friend, Izzy, who finally has some free time for the summer. Izzy does have some free time, but she’s with her boyfriend a lot. My brothers eyed me suspiciously and grumbled under their breaths.
I couldn’t leave the house, though, and not come clean with Tomás. As overbearing as he is, I love him. I know he’s only looking out for me. So, I proceeded to tell him the truth before Cindy picked me up.
“Toto, Cindy’s not throwing a party for me tonight,” I say, shamefaced.
“I know,” he answers as he goes over paperwork for the company.
I stand there, not sure if I should say more or just leave it at that. I choose the former. “I’m spending the night at Micah’s.”
He lifts his eyes from the papers, meeting mine, and then looks back down. “I know, Vero.”
He’s not mad. Or annoyed. He’s much calmer than I thought he would be. It makes me nervous. “It’s just that I know what I said earlier, but I know I don’t want to lie to you either. You’re way too much sometimes, Toto, but I love you for that because I want my big brother to watch out for me, but I can take care of myself, too, you know?”
He looks up again, letting out a chuckle. “I know.”
My eyes narrow. “You’re way to calm about this.”
“Look, I’m always gonna be your big brother. That’s never going to change. So that means I’m always going to probably act a little too protective. I’m sorry if that makes you mad because I don’t do it for that. I do it because I love you. As much as I hate to say it, you were right. You’re an adult. I just have to trust you.”
“Okay … Thank you.”
He nods before returning his attention back to the paperwork.
“Hey, check this out,” Cindy says, walking into the house, holding up her phone. “I mean, I know it’ll be your first time tonight, but I’ve used this before. You should definitely keep it in mind and have Micah get some. It’s so—”
She halts, jaw open, as she gets closer and sees that I’m not alone. Her face might be as red as mine is. Tomás’ too. I’m horrified, and my only solace is knowing that he didn’t see what she was talking about—mango flavored lube.
Kill me now.
“Yummy,” she finishes.
I want to strangle her.
“Yeah …” Tomás slowly shakes his head, keeping his eyes averted from either of ours. “Could’ve done without that.”
I rush her out of the house, and she’s already laughing about it as she starts her car and we drive to the mall. We walk around a little, getting Jamba Juice, and head to a small boutique where she said she ordered something for my birthday.
“You asked him about protection, so what?” Cindy says as I relay the conversation I had with Micah yesterday.
“Who does that, Cin? Who asks ahead of time about condoms?”
“People who are responsible, that’s who.”
“I felt so stupid. I wasn’t even going to say anything, but right before I hung up, I thought what if I show up and he doesn’t have any. Then that would be embarrassing. What am I even doing? Should I be doing this? I feel like I’m freaking out. I shouldn’t be freaking out over this, should I? I should be excited, and I’m just a ball of nerves right now.”
“It’s okay to be nervous. Just calm down. Do you realize how excited he probably got after you asked him about that?”
“Really?” I raise an eyebrow.
She stops, turns to me, and looks at me like I’m crazy. “For reals, V? You just asked your boyfriend if he had condoms. What, you think he’s wondering why you’re asking, under the impression that you guys were never gonna have sex?”
“Well, no, but … now he knows I was thinking about it.”
“V, you’re supposed to be thinking about it.”
“Yeah, but now he probably thinks that I’ve been thinking about it a lot, which I have, but I just think about it because I haven’t done it.”
“Oh, so you’re never gonna think about it after you guys do it?”
“I don’t know—”
“Yes. You are. As a matter of fact, you’re gonna think about it more. Trust me.”
I know she’s probably right. The last few times we’ve fooled around, it was all I was thinking about. I just need to calm down and not freak out. Yeah, easier said than done.
“What are you doing?” I ask, still heading to the boutique, when she stops in front of a lingerie store.
“In here.” She waves for me to follow.
“What? Why? Cindy, I’m not getting anything from there. That’d just amp up my nerves even more.”
“Well, that’s too bad, because this is where I ordered your present from.”
“What?” My voice jumps up higher. A few people down a couple stores hear me and turn. Putting my hand over my face, I rush into the store, dragging Cindy with me. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m totally serious.” She pulls her arm from of my grasp and walks over to the counter. “Hi. I ordered something online a couple days ago and had it delivered here.”
“Oh, okay. Name?”
“Cindy Cosgrove.”
“Okay, one minute.”
When the girl leaves the counter and goes to the back, I pull at Cindy’s arm again. “What are you thinking? I’m not wearing some skimpy lingerie. I don’t even take my shirt off in front of him.”
“You don’t?”
“No!” I answer through a clenched jaw. “So I sure as hell am not wearing some bra and panties combo.”
“Wait, when you sleep over, what do you wear?”
“One of his shirts.”
She lifts he brows. “Oh, well, guys always like that, too. Look, don’t wear it tonight, okay? Don’t even wear it the next time you guys do it, or the time after that. But keep it because I’m telling you, once you do wear it, Micah’s going to be drooling for days.”
“You. Are. Crazy.”
“Here you go.” The girl comes back out with a shiny, black bag. “Just need a signature from you.”
Cindy signs the paper and pushes the bag over to me on the counter. I give her a sideways look, almost afraid to touch it. Which is stupid. In the back of my mind, I know she’s right. Guys like stuff like this, right? But when would I ever be comfortable enough to wear whatever she bought in front of Micah?
Cindy let’s out a sigh. “Sorry, just one more thing,” she says to the girl at the counter. She reaches into the bag and what she pulls out pleasantly surprises me. I was expecting a skimpy bra or some kind of lace or see-thru panties. But it’s a dark, rose-colored, satin and lace babydoll. While it still shows more skin on top than I’m used to, it’s definitely more appealing than bra and panties. “What do you think of this?” Cindy asks the girl.
“Oh, that’s nice. That color is one of our top sellers.”
Cindy holds it up in front of me. I look at her like I want to kill her. “You think her boyfriend would like it?”
The girl eyes me up and down, and for a moment all of my insecurities flood through me. Her eyes narrow, she bites the inside of her lip, twisting her head as if she’s thinking of a nice way to say I shouldn’t wear something like that. Then she smiles. “Oh, he’ll love it.”
A blush creeps over my face, and Cindy turns to me, smiling. “Told you.”
She puts it back in the bag and then hands it to me. “Well, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, birthday girl.” Smiling, Cindy gives me a hug. “Now let’s go get you laid.”
The counter girl’s eyes pop open. I raise the bag in front of my face, hiding what I’m sure is pure horrification.
“Okay, look,” Cindy pats my hand as she parks outside of Micah’s apartment, “you know I love you. I know I was super nervous my first time, so just try to stay calm.”
“Oh, are you taking the motherly-figure role, now that you’ve embarrassed me in front of everyone today?”
She laughs. “I’m serious. Just don’t overthink it. You love him.”
I’ve still been wondering where he’s at as far the love word goes. I know I’m in love with him. I think he feels the same, but I’m not sure.
“I mean, you do love him, right?” I give her a smile, nodding my head. “And I know he loves you. Whether he knows it or not, is irrelevant. I know he does.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.” She leans over and gives me a hug.
“I’m leaving my gift in your car though. I am not wearing that tonight.”
“Okay, okay.”
As per my usual habit, I head over to Micah’s apartment and go to let myself in, but the door’s locked. It’s not unusual, but when he knows I’m coming over he usually leaves it unlocked. I knock a couple times and try to listen for any commotion, but don’t hear anything. Wouldn’t that be perfect, if he forgot?
No, Vero. Stop being like that. He wouldn’t forget this.
I knock again and pull out my phone. Maybe I should call him.
The door swings open and Micah stands there, dripping wet, holding a towel around his waist. “Hey, you’re early.”
“I … I …” I’m trying to form words, but my brain has gone to pudding. I can feel it, all squishy, sloshing around inside of my skull. He opens the door wider to let me in, but I just stand there, admiring—gawking—at the water dripping down his chest. The beads of water trail over his muscles, down his stomach, to somewhere underneath the towel.
“You gonna stay out there all night?”
My eyes shoot back up, and he’s smiling. “Would you like to come inside or did you want to get to business out there?” My mouth drops, and he laughs.
Finally realizing he’s teasing me, I find some kind of strength to not stare at him, and go inside.
“Just give me a second to dry off.”
I stop and stand behind the sofa. Usually, I’d feel comfortable enough to go to the kitchen and grab something to drink, or just lounge around on their couch, or even head straight into his bedroom and turn on the TV and start to watch something. Now, I’m stuck.
What should I do? Does he expect me to do something or say something? Should we have something to drink first? I know they usually have some alcohol in the apartment, maybe he wants to relax first. Should I change already? Why is it they make it look so much easier in the movies and on TV when it comes to this sort of stuff?
“What are you doing?” Micah asks, coming back out of the bathroom. He’s got on a pair of shorts and a shirt that fits him snuggly, but I can’t erase—nor do I want to—the mental image of him opening the door in nothing but a towel.
“Um …” I look around, unsure how to answer.
He gives me a hug and kisses the top of my head, before walking to the kitchen. “Happy birthday. I ordered a pizza. I would’ve gone all out, but you said you just wanted a chill night. Is that okay?”
“Mm-hm.” I nod.
Turning around, he stares at me still standing there. “Are you okay?”
Get it together, V. This was your idea! “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Pizza sounds great.”
Believe it or not, pizza does the trick. Thankfully, he tells me Taylor is out on a date, so he’s not in the apartment. We talk like we usually do, eat a couple of slices, and take our drinks to his room where he turns on the TV, just as he would any other night.
But now that we’re laying on the bed, my frantic thoughts return. I excuse myself and change into one of his shirts and my shorts, trying not to overthink. Other than the teasing comment at the door, he hasn’t even brought up the obvious fact of why I’m spending the night. I appreciate that, but for some reason it just makes me feel more awkward like it’s some unspoken thing between us.
I sheepishly walk back into the room. I’m not sure if I’m expecting him to be half-naked on the bed, have a rose in his mouth, or playing some kind of slow song, but it’s none of those things. He’s laying where he was when I walked out, scrolling through a list on Netflix.
“I was thinking we could start watching the last season of Kimmy Schmidt.”
“Oh,” I say, wondering what he’s thinking or if he’s trying to say something else. Because, yeah, Kimmy Schmidt is always an innuendo for sex. “Um, yeah. That sounds good.”
Crawling into bed, I adjust the blankets over myself and lean in closer to him. He starts the first episode, and I feel the nerves crawling around in my stomach. But then … nothing. The episode ends, and I look over at Micah.
He raises the remote control up. “Another one?”
“Uh … sure.”
So, we watch another episode. My nerves are dying down a bit, but now the anticipation is mixing with embarrassment and doubt. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he just said yes, but doesn’t really want to. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell me no, so now he’s waiting for me to fall asleep or something.
The episode ends. Again, he raises up the remote, silently asking me.
“Did you …” I pause, biting my top lip. “Did you not want to do this?”
“What?”
“I mean, it’s okay if you don’t. I’ll understand. I just thought—”
“Veronica. Of course I want to do this.”
“You do?”
He lets out an unbelieving chuckle. “Absolutely.”
“Then …” I look at the TV and then him, “what are we doing?”
“I just thought … I mean, I just wanted it to happen naturally, or whatever. You know? I didn’t want you to freak out and think it had to be some big production or something. To be honest, I thought about doing rose petals, or chocolate-covered strawberries or some other things.”
“You did?”
“Yes. But you’ve been waiting, which I’m fine with, so I didn’t want you to get nervous or anything. Vero,” he leans in closer, putting his hand under my chin, “I just want you to be happy. The fact that you want this with me is all I need.”
“You have to kiss me after saying something like that.”
He smiles, running his hand through my hair, pulling me closer. Our lips connect, and my body reacts like it always does. My skin prickles and my breath catches. His hand runs around my side, and he pulls me on top of him. Sitting up, wrapping his arms around me, his lips travel along my jaw and then down my neck. I lean back, loving the current it sends through me, wanting his lips everywhere.
Reaching around, I grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it off, digging my fingers into his shoulder. His lips graze over my throat, before coming back up to my mouth. Our tongues connect, and I feel his hands sliding down and under my shirt.
“Wait, I’m sorry.” I push him away, just enough to break apart our lips, but keep my forehead against his.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to—”
“No, I want to. It’s just …” I swallow the jitters, unsure how he’s going to react to my request. “I want to keep the shirt on.”
He smiles, quelling my fears. “I can’t promise that’s going to keep my hands off of you.”
I bring my lips closer, kissing him again. “I don’t want you to keep your hands off of me.”
“Good.”
Chapter 17
Micah
I wake up to a light touch being rubbed across my cheek. Adjusting to the light in my room, I look over and see Veronica smiling.
“Good morning.” I clear my throat, smiling.
“Morning.” She snuggles closer to me.
“Were you watching me sleep?” She nods. “That’s not creepy.”
“Shut up.” She giggles. “I’m just …” Biting her lip, she looks away.
“What?”
; “Happy.”
“Me too.” Pulling her closer, I run my thumb softly over her cheek. “Are you …” I stare at her for a moment, hoping she understands what I’m saying, but she just stares back, “sore?”
An adorable blush creeps over her cheeks, as she drops her head into the crook of my neck.
“No. I mean, a little, but nothing crazy like I thought I might be.” Resting her head on my chest, her fingers run over my skin. “Last night was perfect.”
“Yeah. It was.” I smile up at the ceiling. This is the only way I want to wake up from now on. “You don’t have to leave, do you?”
“Nope. I’m all yours.”
“Yes, you are.” I hold her tighter, pressing my lips to hers.
I know last night wasn’t my first time, but in a way, I do feel like it was. With Lana, when we had sex, I don’t think either of us was in love. We thought we could be, but I know I wasn’t there yet. With Veronica, I am there. Completely, one hundred percent. And I wanted to tell her last night, but I didn’t want to freak her out. If I told her last night would she think I’m only saying it because we were having sex? I didn’t want to take that chance.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I chuckle.
She smiles back. “Me too.”
“Okay, you go first. I’ll see what we got for breakfast. Then, I say we stay in bed for the rest of the day.”
She smiles, pressing her lips to mine again. “I like that sound of that.”
Throwing on a shirt, I head to the kitchen as she goes to the restroom. Looking through the cabinets, I pull out a box of Pop Tarts and start toasting a couple. When she comes in, I just watch her. Her curly hair everywhere, my shirt hanging off of her, and her little pink shorts riding high. I’m in love with this girl.
“Be right back. Pop Tarts are toasting.” I give her a quick kiss, before heading to the bathroom.
“Mmm, sugary, toasted pastries. Breakfast of champions.”
“Got that right,” I call back.
When I’m done, I head back into the kitchen, and she stands over the counter, waiting for the toaster to finish. I wrap my arms around her from behind, leaning down, kissing her neck.
