by RH Tucker
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.
“It feels like someone else is up,” she giggles.
“Sorry,” I reply, smiling into her neck.
“Don’t be. I, um … I’m ready.”
“Are you sure? We can wait if you need to.”
“Damn the Pop Tarts, then.” I laugh and start kissing her.
Taylor walks into the kitchen behind us. “Morning, you two.”
“Good morning,” I answer as Veronica giggles into my chest.
“Morning, Taylor,” she says.
“Did you guys pray this morning?” he asks, already dressed in shorts and a polo shirt for work.
I look at Veronica, who stares back at me with a confused expression, then turn to face him. “What?”
“Pray.” He looks at me like I should know what he’s talking about. “You know, to God?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask as Veronica raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, sorry. I heard you guys praying last night, so I thought you might do the same thing in the morning.”
Veronica’s face contorts with confusion. “What do you mean you heard us praying?”
“You know …” He smiles before closing his eyes and his voice hits a higher pitch. “Oh my God! Oh my God!”
Shit.
Veronica’s face drops in horror. “What? You … you heard us? Me?”
“Girl, our neighbors heard you.”
“Oh my God!” She bolts out of the kitchen.
“He’s standing right there,” he replies, pointing to me.
“What the hell, Taylor?” I cringe.
“Oh, come on, you know I’m joking around. It’s all good.”
“No, it’s not—” I wrinkle my nose, staring at the kitchen door as I hear my bedroom door slam shut. “Damn it.”
“What?”
“Last night …” I don’t want to talk about our sex life with him, but he needs to know he crossed a line. “Dude, last night was her first time.”
Now his face drops. “You for real?” I nod. “Shit, now I feel like an ass.” His voice drops lower. “Wait, she made those noises, and she was a virgin?”
“That’s beside the point, Taylor.”
Turning around, he walks out of the kitchen and toward my room.
“What are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he knocks on my door. “Hey, Veronica. I’m sorry. I … I’m just sorry, okay? My bad.”
He looks over at me, both of us waiting, hearing nothing but silence.
“It’s fine,” she finally calls back out.
Taylor looks at me. “Dude, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I’ll talk to her.”
He nods and lifts his hand to fist bump me. “I’m headed out. Sorry again, man.”
Nodding, I watch him walk out our front door, and then stare at my door for a second, unsure what I’m going to say. Stepping inside, even though no one else is in the apartment, I close the door behind me. This room is our space now, and I really hope that hasn’t changed.
“Hey,” I say.
She’s already changed out of her shorts and stands up, buttoning her pants. “Hey.”
“Vero, Taylor really didn’t mean—”
“I know,” she cuts me off. “But that was really embarrassing.” Her head swivels around, and she lifts the blankets, searching for something.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for my shirt. I think maybe I should go home. I just—”
“What? No, stay. Please.”
She shakes her head, still not facing me. “No, I … I should go.”
Taking a seat on the bed, I grab her hand and pull her closer, so she’s standing between my legs. “Veronica, please. It’s not that big of a deal. So, you were a little loud.”
She jerks her hand away from me. “A little loud? Are you serious?” She crosses her arms and stares down at me. “And why didn’t you say anything? I’m so embarrassed.”
“Honestly?” I wait for a second, unsure how my answer is going to sit with her. “Because last night was amazing and those sounds you were making just turned me on more.” Her mouth drops for a second, before she snaps it shut, fighting off a grin.
“There she is.” I wrap my hands around her legs, pulling her closer.
“No.” She doesn’t move away, but keeps her arms crossed. Her eyes narrow, but her mouth’s fighting back a smile. “I’m still mad.”
I run my hands up her legs, cupping her butt. “You look cute when you mad.”
“You’re to blame for this, you know that?”
“Oh, I know.” I give her a devilish grin.
“Nooo,” she protests again, but now she sits on the bed, her knees pinning my waist. Putting a hand on my shoulder, she jabs a finger into my chest. “That’s not what I mean. You could’ve told me something.”
“To be fair, I did try to tell you.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I did.” I nod. “Remember, I whispered your name?”
“You said my name a lot.”
“Okay,” I agree. “The first time I said it. I put my hand over your mouth, and you bit my fingers.”
She looks away, redness crawling up her neck. “Oh.”
Her shoulders slump, and I run my lips under her chin. A soft moan comes from her, my tongue tracing her skin to her lips. “Am I forgiven?”
“I don’t know,” she pouts. “Maybe.”
I pick her up, turning us around, and then lay back down on the bed, pinning her underneath. She lets out a giggle that turns into a soft whimper, as I run my lips up to her ear, taking a small bite. Finding her mouth again, I kiss her deeply, my tongue meeting hers. Her smell, her skin, it’s all intoxicating. Last night was everything, and I always want her.
I nuzzle her with my nose. “Please?”
“I’ll have to think it over.” She smirks. “You might have to give me some valid reasons why I should forgive you.”
“I think I can do that,” I whisper, finding her lips once again and running my hand under her shirt. “I might have you screaming those reasons though.”
“Stop.” She pushes my chest, laughing. “It’s still embarrassing. Plus, you have neighbors.”
I run my lips down her neck and over to her other ear, trailing her skin with my tongue. “We never see them. Besides, I don’t care if they know I’m having an incredible morning.”
Holding myself over her, our laughs intertwine, and she shakes her head. “I hate you,” she says through a giggle.
“I love you.”
Her eyes pop open. Crap.
I mean it. I absolutely, positively mean it, but from her reaction, it might be too soon. There’s no turning back now though.
“You don’t—” She stops herself and nervously averts her gaze. “You don’t have to say that just because …”
“Just because what?”
“Just because … we slept together.”
“Whoa.” I bring a hand up, cupping her cheek. My thumb brushes along her skin and I give a slight shake of my head, but she’s not looking at me. “Vero?” I wait for her to face me, but she doesn’t. “Veronica, please look at me.”
It takes a moment, but she her eyes finally find mine. They’re glistening.
“I would never say that just because we had sex. I said it because it’s the truth. I’ve known I’m in love with you for a while now, but I wasn’t sure if it was too soon to say it. My favorite time of day is when I wake up and you’re in my arms. Your hair tickling my face, then seeing your smile. I’m in love with you, Veronica. I don’t know if you’re there yet, but—”
“I am. There. I love you, too.”
I let out a breath then my lips slam into hers. This kiss right now, knowing how she feels and that she knows how I feel, makes it feel like any and all barriers are gone. There’s just us and our love.
Chapter 18
Veronica
So, Cindy was right. I think about sex a lot now. I mean, a lot.
It’s been a couple of weeks since we had sex for the first time. In that time, I’ve stayed over at his place almost exclusively. The next night, I went home, avoi
ded eye contact with my brothers, and quickly left the next day. I’ve been home just once since. Javier and Miguel haven’t texted me, accept to remind me of an upcoming trip our family takes every year. Tomás has messaged me more, but when I tell him I’m staying over at Micah’s, he replies back with, “Okay. Don’t say anything else.”
But back to the sex … you see? It’s always on my mind. And now that the “first time” is over, it’s easier to broach the topic. Or, maybe I should say, tackle the topic. Because that’s what I’ve done. Multiple times.
Sometimes when we’re sleeping, I wake up to shift the covers, feel him there, and … well, that’s that.
A few days ago, I decided to catch up on my reading list. While I was lounging in bed, he walked into the room after showering and kissed my neck softly. “What are you reading?”
“The latest CoHo book.”
“Good?”
“No,” I side-eye him, “it’s amazing.”
Chuckling, he kisses me again, then reaches over and grabs his iPad, opening an app to read a comic. We read quietly, my legs crossing over his when he speaks up. “I haven’t worked on my comic in a while. I need to get on that.”
“You should,” I tell him, snuggling closer to him, tapping my phone to turn the page.
It’s then that something strikes me. Glancing over at him, he’s staring intently at his screen, and I start to giggle. It’s soft at first, and I try to stifle it, returning my attention to my book, but it continues to build. The giggle turns into laughter, and I set my phone down, bringing my hand to my mouth in hopes of trying to stop it. It doesn’t work.
“What?” he asks with a smirk.
“It’s just—” The words are cut off by my laughs. He’s still smiling, but he’s eyeing me cautiously. “I can’t … it’s just … we’re reading.”
“Yeah. So?”
More laughter. “Are we old?”
“What are you talking about?”
I lean into him, the laughter getting louder. “It’s nine o’clock. We’re lying in bed, not out partying but … reading!”
His eyes narrow, a mischievous smirk crossing his lips, and he grabs my phone from me.
