“I guess when it comes down to it; I’m not ready to let go. I like sex with Brett and he makes me feel good. I don't know what I'll get with Sy. And it's also . . . I'll be gone in a few weeks. I don’t want any major upsets, you know?”
“That’s honest.” I rolled down the car window. “Okay, I’ll phone you back.”
“Going out again?” Mom asked as I ended my call.
“Yeah, sorry.” I apologized for reasons I didn’t fully understand. “To the beach. Well, I’m thinking about it. I'm not sure I want to go.”
“What’s holding you back?” She glanced over at me.
“I’m, um . . . well, I might miss Ryan’s call,” I said nervously. Are you actually interested? What’s going on with you?
“Go with your friends, Nicky. You won’t get to see them much longer. Ryan should understand that.”
“Yeah, I know I should go.”
The butterflies inside me circled around the issue of trust. Ryan and I had just talked about it—would this already be a violation? On the other hand, it was only with my friends. Even if I committed to see Ryan exclusively, he wouldn’t expect me to stay away from them . . . would he?
Considering how we were about to scatter in different directions, I decided to go. I wanted to cherish and remember every second of our last days together and if I missed this, I knew I'd regret it.
After Mom pulled the car into the garage, I went up to my room and got ready, throwing on some jeans and a sweatshirt, then sprawled out on my bed while waiting for Colleen. There was a knock on my door.
"Come in," I shouted.
“Do you have a minute?” Dad walked into my room. “I’m confused about something.”
Oh damn it. Well, at least he’s sober. Wow, he must have been in bad shape last night. He looks ragged.
“Confused about what?”
“Ryan made sure to let us all know you were probably going to the next step. Since that announcement you’ve been with both him and Jerry.”
After all these years, with Stanford in jeopardy, this is what you’re talking about?
“Jerry and I have been friends a long time, Dad. We’re going to college together, so I’ll always have him in my life.”
“Do you really think that Ryan, a man who’s almost eight years older than you, will let you go to college and give you his blessing so you can experience all you deserve?”
“Yes. He even told me he wouldn’t interfere in my plans.”
“Maybe you haven’t thought about that part of your relationship,” he warned. “Ryan won't let you stay home while he’s on the road. He’ll demand you go with him. If he does let you stay home, there’s no way he’ll approve of you spending time with Jerry—or any other boy.”
Let me? You don't know me at all if you think any man or woman will tell me what to do. I won't quit school or my job like mom had to because she couldn’t trust you to keep your daughters safe.
“I’m only talking about dating one of them until Stanford, Dad. Anyway, I don’t want to be with someone who travels on the road; there’s too much temptation. We’re only talking about seeing each other exclusively to see how it goes. This isn’t about a life together.” He'll tire of me in no time at all.
He hesitated. “I understand you might be fighting your desires. I had them, too, at your age." He looked down quickly and then back at me. “I’m just going to say it. You're waking up. You need to get birth control.”
I know you’re concerned, but please don’t talk to me about sex and your past. In only a few minutes my body is already tense.
“Dad—"
“Just listen for a second,” he interrupted. “I know its awkward hearing about sex from one of your parents, but I was you at one time. If you’re attracted to both young men, I understand. Have fun and don’t tie yourself down. If you’re considering only one of them, give that one a chance and cut it off with the other. You’re not being fair if you're promising commitment.
“In fact," he went on, "what you're doing is avoiding commitment. You talk about being exclusive while you’re avoiding that very thing. For what it’s worth, my advice is to go with your schoolmate. Ryan is exciting, but don’t underestimate being with people your own age. Eight years is a big difference. You haven’t done anything yet, and he’s gotten to do plenty."
Please be done.
“Bottom line, Ryan is too experienced with sex. It’s not fair he’s expecting to have a physical relationship with you when he’s had all the sex he could want. You need to experience physical relationships at your own pace. He should let you go.”
“I heard you. The thing is, even if I see Ryan, I'm going to college. One of my goals has been to meet new people. In fact, I’ve told him I’m going to do exactly what you’re telling me I should do.”
Now please go.
“Take your time with your decisions on boys and slow down,” he said firmly. “You think these days will go on forever, but they don’t. And if you got pregnant that would close the door to a lot of opportunities."
Who says I’d have the baby or keep it if I got pregnant?
"Marriage and relationships are about trust, Nicky."
“I know that.” And yet mom can’t trust you to come home sober.
“You can’t avoid being involved with someone because you’re afraid they might give into temptation,” he said. “The chance to cheat with others is at home and away. Just because the person you choose doesn’t travel, it doesn't mean they're faithful. You have to trust him. He’ll have to trust you, too, right?”
“I’ll be careful.” He was almost to my bedroom door. I counted to three. I forced myself to say, “Dad?”
“Yeah?” He turned around.
“Thank you for being sober today,” I looked toward my window and then back to him. “I know you only want the best for me. I have to figure things out for myself.”
I don’t know why thanking my father or talking to him about his drinking made me choke up. I was either in tears or angry. I hadn't had many talks with him at my bedside when he was sober. Maybe that was the reason for my dramatic emotions.
One day I hoped I could have these conversations in a different way. Until recently, I'd hid my thoughts and feelings. I knew if I spoke up . . . well, my sister spoke up and paid a high price for it.
“Yep,” he said with a straight face and then closed my bedroom door.
After writing a little more in my journal, I heard my phone beep. It was Colleen texting me that she and Brett were outside. I put on my tennis shoes, grabbed a jacket and blanket, and yelled goodbye to my parents.
When we got there, I helped carry the folding chairs and blankets while Brett carried their beer and Colleen their food. A lot of our friends had already arrived, and the hot dogs and burgers on the grill smelled good. There were several ice chests of beers and sodas, and chips and salsa were on the table. The music was turned up loud.
Some of our friends danced, their laughter and smiles lighting up the beach even as the sun gave way to the evening. It felt good to be free and with people my own age.
Jerry was standing by the bonfire.
Flames threw soft light and shadows across his body, licking his tall frame with orange heat. I walked up behind him and put my hand on his back.
“Hey beautiful.” He put his arm around my waist.
I watched the bonfire play all over his body and wished somehow my fingertips could stroke his back and shoulders while staying invisible in the shadows.
“Where did that come from?” I joked. “Have you already had too many beers?”
I hated those comments and had to make a joke, as usual, dismissing anything uncomfortable with sarcasm. I didn’t want to be called gorgeous or beautiful or in any way be made to feel girly. Those were words I interpreted to mean “weak.”
As I thought about the terms of endearment that Ryan used, I shivered and I realized I wanted both boys—well, one a man and one a boy.
“I
haven’t even had one beer.” He wore a big smile. “I’ve been waiting for you to join me ever since Colleen called to tell me you were coming. I thought you were busy tonight.”
“Tomorrow I am. I have to get up early, in fact. But I decided it was too important to miss tonight and be with my best buds.” Jerry had a plate of chips and salsa. I took a chip and dipped it.
“Can I get you a drink?” Jerry offered.
“A diet soda.”
“Be right back,” he said. "I'm getting a refill on chips. Want some?"
"Yeah, thanks."
So many things made me sentimental at the beach that night. Some of us saying our final goodbyes, ready to move away, others had enlisted in the military, and all of us reminisced about high school. It pulled on my emotions and also my fears that something I’d never get back and hadn't appreciated enough was coming to an end.
It was another poke at how quickly I was moving toward my adult life. The process was natural—I understood that—but still, it was hard to let go of these last innocent days.
Jerry came back with the drinks and chips. Time passed quickly while we talked with our classmates. It wasn't too much later the food was ready. We got our plates and sat down on my blanket near the fire.
He opened his legs for me to sit between them. Feeling both excited and cautious, I sat inside his thighs. His long legs hugged my hips. I tried to avoid touching his belly and chest, especially taking a chance I might feel his erection. The bulge from his jeans pressed against my behind. When we finished our meals, I started to get up to throw our plates in the garbage.
“Just leave those for now,” Jerry urged. His voice went soft. “I’ll throw them away. Relax against me and listen to the music.”
I didn’t protest. I leaned on his body and let him play with my hair and kiss my cheeks. His hands lifted my shirt, his fingertips moving on my belly, rising toward my breasts.
I knew, just as my body seemed to know—sex was in motion.
Chapter 39
Fire
Jerry’s hands played on my skin, lifting my sweatshirt an inch at a time.
It felt like electricity snapped from each of his fingertips.
His luscious torso moved against my back as if it were whispering, “Enjoy me, lean on me, feel me rise and swell, hear my beating heart.” His breath circled around my ear and intimacy began to fall on us softly. Seductively.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” I pulled down my shirt, making sure I tucked it securely into my jeans. “I’ll take these plates to the garbage cans and be right back.”
Jerry held me tight. I couldn’t move. His voice was even and gentle. His mouth was next to my ear.
“Just stay with me.” Soft lips kissed my cheek and one of his hands smoothed my hair. “Please don’t run from me. We’re talking about being together, aren’t we?”
Although I was certain I didn’t want my first experience with sex to be on a beach, I forced myself to stay with Jerry, taking cues from some of my friends who cuddled with each other near the fire. Unlike me, it appeared they embraced each other easily, were spontaneous with a kiss, and enjoyed the touch of a boyfriend’s arm or a girlfriend’s leg.
As I surveyed my surroundings, I drifted away from the young man holding me. The man I was falling for, but for whom I couldn’t admit my feelings, was not on that beach. I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered Ryan's conversation with Kevin in the outfield, when he’d admitted that there was something about me he wanted to explore.
The way Ryan began wooing me as we volunteered together last year was slow and sensual. I didn’t even realize how we were absorbing each other. When his hands held mine as he announced his feelings at the end-of-the-year party in November, I felt as if I’d been selected for something magical.
“You feel so nice.” Jerry popped my dream bubble.
I was uncomfortable as he tried to be sexy and I wanted only to get up. Instead, I made myself lay against him. His hands moved to my neck and shoulders, where they began massaging my tense muscles. Immediately the chills started rushing through my scalp.
“You’re pretty tight here,” Jerry said. "Sometimes coach treats us to a massage, so I know how good this feels. How come you're so tense?"
Because I have another boy on my mind and I feel guilty.
“I’m sad everyone’s leaving.” I closed my eyes. “You know how I’ve talked to you about my fear of good things ending?”
“Yeah.”
“Did I ever tell you how it feels like there’s some invisible clock that ticks away in my life?” I shivered as another wave of chills rushed over my shoulders and down my back.
“No.”
“Well, that’s how I feel right now.”
“You don’t need to say goodbye to everyone.” His arms squeezed me inside them. “You’ll have me.”
“Thanks for that.” I took his hand and kissed it. “Your friendship means a lot.”
“You sure can be sweet sometimes. I wish I could see that girl more often."
"You see her every day," I reminded him.
"You know what I mean." Jerry's hips pushed toward me. His fingertips lifted my hair. My head and neck relaxed, my shoulders dipped, and I was finally able to rest with all my weight against his chest.
“There, that’s better.” He continued playing with my hair. “It’s nice feeling your shoulders drop and your body give in to me.” When his hands moved under my sweatshirt and then up my back, I let them touch me where he wanted. “Your skin is soft. I like touching it. Lie down and I’ll rub your back.” He stretched out his body. It was now a young man’s body, long and solid. He coaxed me on top of him so that my head rested against his neck.
Slipping underneath the waistband of my jeans, his hands moved to the tip of my behind and then up and down my sides. As good as they felt, all I could think of was, they’re not Ryan’s hands.
“Mmm, your body. Someday . . .”
“What?” I pushed. “Someday what?”
“I have a fantasy that you’ll let me travel all over you,” he said. "I visualize you’ll disappear underneath me as I make love to you and grind you down to a little wet puddle with some hair."
“What?” I laughed nervously. Oh damn! Does he think that's romantic? All I can visualize is rough and dominate . . . puddles?
“Mm-hmm, someday,” he whispered.
I drifted off to the chills on my back and thinking about what he'd just revealed.
“Nicky.”
“Huh?” Hands patted my back. I opened my eyes feeling the initial shock and confusion of not being in my own bed, trying to figure out where I was and how long I'd been asleep.
The fire was still hot and blazing. It crackled and spit. With a pop, it sent glowing ashes into the night sky.
I remembered I was at the beach.
Although no one was left standing next to the fire, the shadows and light from the flames seemed to be alive. It was as if when it blinked, the last days of our youth were illuminated. Reflections danced off bumps covered in blankets and sleeping bags. The occasional crab scooted across the sand. The water had a certain glow and the white-foamed waves seemed to carry their own light. The music was turned low. I knew it was late.
“Where is everyone?” I asked, still sleepy.
“They’ve all gone to bed,” Jerry purred softly.
“I guess we should go then.” I sat up. “I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
“I’ve got my sleeping bag in the car.” He pointed to the parking lot. “I’ll make sure you’re not late. Let’s stay here with our friends and we can enjoy breakfast together. What time is your first appointment?”
“Nine.”
“It’s only not even one o' clock. I’ll get it from my trunk, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Do you want me to walk you to the bathroom first? I’ve got a little flashlight on my key ring,” he offered. “It’s hard to see where you’re going without it.”
> “Yeah,” I stood up. “I’ll take those plates to the garbage, too.”
While we walked over to the trashcans and then the bathroom, I thought of ways I could distance myself while lying next to Jerry. I knew he wanted more than just to sleep.
The thick, skunk-like odor of weed drifted by.
A few sleeping bags moved in the shadows.
A flash of an arm or a face peeked out from under the covers, followed by a giggle or muffled grunt of pleasure.
“Can you see okay?” Jerry asked sweetly.
“Yeah, thanks.” I followed the little beam of light shining on the sand. The bathroom was nothing more than an outhouse. I had visions of a snake or some rat biting my ass as I peed, and so I went as quickly as possible, making sure not to touch the seat.
Jerry was already waiting with his sleeping bag when I came out of the outhouse. He shone the flashlight ahead of us, and it landed on a large cypress bush that seemed to provide adequate cover from the cold or wind if either picked up during the night or early morning. We spread out my blanket and then put the sleeping bag on top of it, hoping that by setting it up that way would keep the sand out of our hair.
He stood up and unbuckled his belt.
“What are you doing?” I panicked.
“Taking off my jeans. I hate sleeping in anything except my sweats or briefs. You’re not freaked out, are you?”
“Uh, I don’t know. I think that’s . . .”
Am I cheating on Ryan? I haven’t committed to him, but what am I doing?
“You’re sleeping in your pants, aren’t you?” he asked, as if investigating. “No big deal.”
“I guess,” I said tentatively. “Don’t make any moves out here.” I don’t want to be a puddle tonight!
Instead of responding to me, he unzipped the sleeping bag, took off his jeans, and got in. His arms reached for me. “Okay, come on. We’ll fit together perfectly.”
That’s just what I’m afraid of.
Chapter 40
Rangers to the Rescue
Shadow Heart (Broken Bottle Series Book 1) Page 25
