Summer Love (Senior Year (Vol. 1))
Page 11
I pulled back just enough to look Carly in the eye. “I want to apologize for being a dickhead the night we hung out at the lake.” I took a deep breath, searching for the right words. I didn’t want to upset her more than she already was. “I have no real excuse—”
“Ssshhh …” She held her fingers up to my lips, preventing me from continuing. I was stunned. Actually, this gesture really turned me on and made my mind race, thinking about all the things I’d like to do to her right now. Nevertheless, I tried to focus on what she was saying. “Then don’t make one. All I need to know is—is she your girlfriend?” She moved her hand away and I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“She was my girlfriend, but she hasn’t been in over a year.”
“Do you wish she was now?”
“No, I don’t. What about you? Are you dating Connor?”
“No. We’re just friends.”
Her answer pleased me, and gave me the courage to say, “I like someone else.” I stared into Carly’s deep brown eyes so there would be no mistaking who I was referring to. “I’m just not sure if she likes me.”
The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “She might.”
“Should I try and convince her?”
“Yes, you should,” she said, smiling broadly. Fucking jackpot.
I pulled Carly against me and ran my fingers along her cheek. I placed a gentle hand on either side of her face and kissed her. I wanted it to be a kiss she would remember. I started off slow, showing her I could be kind and gentle. I traced her bottom lip with my tongue like I’d wanted to do since the first day I met her. When she opened her mouth, I pulled her tongue inside and sucked on it. A low moan escaped her lips, and I picked up the pace. I ran my tongue along the tops of her teeth before tasting her mouth. I crushed her lips beneath mine over and over. Heat burned in my gut and spread throughout. I couldn’t get enough. By the time I pulled away, her lips were swollen, her breathing rapid.
“Did I convince her?” I leaned my forehead against hers.
“Yeah,” she beamed. Anyone who had just witnessed that moment of passion could see her jubilation.
I wanted to kiss her again, but I didn’t trust myself. I wouldn’t want to stop, and I needed to get her home.
I tucked Carly close against my side and started off in the direction of my house. We walked in comfortable silence. Talking wasn’t necessary. The kiss had said enough.
“Mom?” I called, walking through the back door.
“In the family room,” she answered. “You’re home early.”
Holding Carly’s hand, I led her through the house. My mom was sitting on the couch curled up with a pediatrics’ medical journal, just like she was when I’d left an hour ago. I cleared my throat, “Mom, this is Carly.” I waved my hand back and forth. “Carly, this is my mom.”
My mom stood and a huge smile spread across her face. I groaned inwardly. Don’t say anything to embarrass me. Don’t say anything to embarrass me.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re Gavin’s study partner, right?” she asked, clasping Carly’s free hand between both of hers.
“Yes.” Carly glanced at me.
“And you’re in the band?”
I felt Carly stiffen and squeezed her hand. “I was,” she said hesitantly. My mom looked confused.
I didn’t want Carly getting upset again, so I got right to the point, hoping my mom wouldn’t ask any more questions. “Carly needs a ride home. Is it okay if I borrow your car?” It was times like this I wish I hadn’t purposefully smashed mine.
“Of course. My keys are hanging up.”
“Thanks, Mom. See you later.”
“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Johnson,” said Carly.
“You too, Carly,” my mom grinned, returning to the couch and her magazine.
I led Carly back through the house, grabbed the keys, and entered the garage, never once letting go of her hand. I opened the passenger door for her and waited while she got in, shutting it softly behind her. I climbed in and started the engine. Instantly I remembered the last time I was alone in a car with a chick. But this time I wasn’t drunk, looking to fuck, or searching for answers. I had all the correct answers sitting beside me and for the first time all summer, I felt a sense of clarity.
Stopping at the end of the driveway, I said, “I’m starving, and I wondered if you’d changed your mind about never wanting to go on a date with me.” I looked at her hopefully, feeling like a super-douche by the way I’d just asked her.
“Why, are you thinking about asking me out?” she teased.
“Only if your answer is going to be yes,” I said. This chick had my mind running in circles.
“You’d have to promise not to call me Girly anymore,” she said, a playful look in her eye.
“What?” I feigned hurt and placed my hand over my heart. “I thought you liked it.”
“I don’t.”
“I’ll try not to call you that, but I can’t make any promises. I think it’s a perfect nickname for you and sometimes it just slips out.”
“I can live with that, I guess.”
“So, just to be clear, if I asked you out, you’d say yes.”
“Yes,” She said, making my heart beat a little faster.
“Girly,” I began. She looked at me sternly, and I started over. “I mean, Carly, would you like to grab a bite to eat with me?”
She giggled. “Yes.”
“Cool.” I pulled out onto the street and headed toward the late-night greasy spoon. “Is Charlie’s okay?”
“Perfect.”
We sat across from one other in a worn-out vinyl booth. I ordered my usual, a double cheeseburger and fries with a Coke, minus the Jack Daniels of course, which, for once, I didn’t need in order to tell Carly how I really felt about her. Carly ordered a turkey club and a water.
A comfortable silence settled around us again. Carly was the first to speak, “Thank you for rescuing me tonight. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”
I reached across the table and took her hand. “Don’t mention it. I’m just glad I was there.” Carly didn’t know I was actually headed to the party to beg her forgiveness. When Carly literally ran into me, I embraced it, and I wanted to keep her attention on the conversation at hand. I wanted her to put what had happened tonight behind her. More importantly, I wanted her to let go of what happened at the lake.
It goes without saying that I hadn’t forgotten about Brady and the shit he pulled tonight. I’d find out what his deal was soon enough, but for now, I allowed myself to get lost in the moment.
“I’m glad you were there too,” she said. She blushed and moved her eyes downward. I thought it was cute the way she got embarrassed so easily.
“It’s weird. We were lab partners for a whole year and I feel like I barely know you. You’re such a private guy. I bet I couldn’t list ten things I know about you,” she said, staring intently at our intertwined hands as if they held clues.
I easily knew more than ten things about her (and wouldn’t mind finding out a few more), but I didn’t list them aloud because I didn’t want to make her feel bad. For example, I knew she smelled like summer. She always entered the chemistry lab as the bell was ringing because she had to walk all the way from the music wing, which was located on the opposite side of the school. I knew that she wrote her name in dot letters at the top of every lab, and that she tucked her pencil into her messy bun when she worked. She liked to sing while she studied and she thought no one noticed what a beautiful voice she had. She loved Diet Coke and the color blue. At lunch, she always sat with her brother and a big group of friends who made her laugh. She went to all of her brother’s basketball games, even though she didn’t play any sports herself. She never talked about her mom, but I knew she missed her a lot.
Suddenly, I had an idea. “Okay. How about we play a game? It’s called ‘Two Truths and a Lie.’ I’ll say three things about me, and one
of them will be a lie. You’ll have to guess which one is the lie. It’ll help us get to know each better.” Don’t ask me where I come up with this shit—at that point, I didn’t care how corny I sounded. She nodded, smiling. “Great. I’ll go first,” I said. I thought for a minute. “I ride my bike everywhere. I have a tattoo that I designed myself. I was a football star at my old school.”
“Let’s see. I know you ride your bike everywhere, so that’s a truth. I’ve seen the edge of your tattoo, which I think is totally hot, by the way, and something I’d love to see sometime.” Whoa! Was she making a pass at me? Clearly she was—her face turned beet red. Without hesitation, she continued. “I’m guessing that you weren’t a football star at your old school. Am I right?” Her brown eyes lit up.
“Correct. I’ve never played football, which was just one of the many disappointments and flaws my father saw in me,” I said. Things had changed between us tonight, making it easy to tell Carly things I’d never told anyone. “He wanted both of his sons to follow in his footsteps. However, this frame wasn’t built for football.”
“Basketball? You were a basketball star?” I nodded. “How come you didn’t try out for the team? Our school has a great team.” I knew her twin was something of a high school legend on the hardwoods.
I shrugged. “I stopped playing when I switched schools.” I didn’t explain that joining a team would’ve meant forming new friendships, which was something I didn’t want any part of back then.
“Well, if you change your mind, you could always try out and play your senior year,” she said, smiling. She didn’t press me to give her a reason for not joining the team, nor did she judge and tell me what a big mistake I had made, which was another thing I admired about Carly. She accepted me for who I was and the choices I made. Go figure. After some of the shitty choices I’d made recently, how could anyone be so accepting?
“Your turn,” I said. “And remember, two truths and a lie.”
“I’m older than Drew by four minutes. I love watching scary movies.” She took in a shaky breath. “I like to play the violin because it reminds me of my mom.”
“I know you’re older than Drew, and it’s a pretty safe guess that playing the violin reminds you of your mom,” I said quietly. Carly didn’t talk about her mom, but I knew from the pictures I’d seen at her house that her mom had been in the philharmonic. “The lie must be that you like scary movies. How’d I do?”
She nodded, her dark waves bouncing, momentarily mesmerizing me. “Right. I hate scary movies. They give me nightmares for at least a month afterward.”
“Why do you watch them?”
“I don’t. Whenever Drew picks one to watch, I leave the room and practice my violin. Back when we were in fourth grade, Drew went through this scary movie phase. It seemed like every other night for a year straight, I was locked away in my room with my violin. It was a turning point for me. Practicing was no longer about becoming more proficient but instead, about finding comfort and peace.”
I nodded. “Drawing is like that for me.”
I rubbed my thumb in circles in the palm of her hand, deciding which secret I wanted to divulge next. She’d been open with me on her last turn and now it was my chance to put myself out there. I didn’t think it was really a secret anymore that I had feelings for her. The only reason I hadn’t acted sooner was because I was too caught up in the idea that all relationships inevitably ended in disaster. I had trust issues, but they didn’t apply to Carly. She was trustworthy. It was time to get back in the game.
“Okay. My turn again.” I took a deep breath. I began with a story, wanting to make her laugh before I turned serious. “Once, when I changed into my basketball shorts for practice and joined everyone on the court, all the guys snickered. I asked what was so funny, but no one said anything. Moments later, after running full speed down the court, I turned around and saw a pair of my mom’s underwear lying on the floor. I looked at my friends and they burst out laughing. My mom’s leopard panties had been stuck to the ass of my shorts the whole time.”
“True,” she shouted, cracking up.
“True,” I admitted.
“I listen to classical music on my iPod. I’ve wanted to ask you out ever since the day we met but I was too afraid.”
She blushed fiercely, but only addressed my first statement. “The lie is that you listen to classical music.”
“Correct. Does it bother you that I’m not a big fan?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I know it’s not on a lot of playlists.”
“Do you think it’s weird that I’ve liked you for so long?”
“No. But you had a funny way of showing it.”
“I know. Sorry about that,” I said. “Guys aren’t really as good at this as they make us out to be in the movies.”
“Yeah, I think Drew might’ve mentioned that once or twice.” She grinned. I could imagine that having a twin brother gave her a firsthand glimpse into the male psyche. “How come you were afraid?”
“After my parents divorced, I thought that relationships were pointless.”
“Do you still believe that?” She chewed on her bottom lip.
“No.” I leaned across the table and kissed her to prove it.
The waitress cleared her throat, interrupting any further exploration of Carly’s delicious lips. Our food had arrived. We kept the conversation light and stuck to safe topics while we ate. It didn’t take us long to clean our plates. Carly had been too nervous to eat earlier in the day, so she was as hungry as I was. When we finished, I threw enough money on the table to cover the bill.
Reaching the car, I opened the door for her, and as she brushed past me to get in, I caught a whiff of her summery scent. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She smelled amazing. I tried to think back to last fall and winter in order to recall what she’d smelled like then … maybe she smelled like summer year round. Or did her scent change with the seasons? I couldn’t remember, and there was no way to ask her without seeming like a creep.
I scurried around to the driver’s side. As soon as I was situated behind the wheel, I looked over at Carly. She was sitting up straight, looking out the windshield. “My dad is away on business,” she said, “and Drew is crashing at Lucas’s house tonight. And I like being home alone at night.” She pulled at her bottom lip with her top teeth. “Which is the lie?”
Holy shit, Gavin. I remained calm and internally analyzed her statements. Is she testing me? Is she trying to tell me something? I gulped. “You like being home alone at night?” I said, desperately hoping I was correct.
She finally turned to look at me. Fear clouded her eyes, making them look more gray than brown. “Right. I hate it.”
I brushed the hair out of my eyes. At this exact moment, I had no idea what to say. I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Driving would clear my head. Is this her way of asking me to stay over? My heart beat wildly in my chest. I turned the radio on as a distraction.
“Girly, where’s your dad?” I asked, carefully broaching the subject.
“Don’t call me Girly,” she reminded me halfheartedly. “He’s in Vegas. Normally he’s not gone on the weekends, but he’s at a conference and won’t be back until Monday.”
Silence filled the car. And for the first time, it felt awkward. We didn’t talk the rest of the way to her house. The only sound was Carly humming along to the radio.
I parked the car in her driveway. “Do you want me to come in? Make sure everything is okay?” I asked. The house was dark, not a single light on. I didn’t blame Carly for not wanting to be alone.
“Do you mind?”
“Of course not.” I wasn’t scared of a big empty house, but I was afraid of what was happening between us. I didn’t know what would happen once we got inside, but I meant what I’d said at the restaurant—I no longer believed that relationships were pointless. I wanted to see this one through.
I followed her inside. She turned on lights as she
walked through the house. I made a big deal about checking the closets and under the beds for monsters, making her laugh with my silly comments and exaggerated gestures.
After a thorough check, we ended up back in the kitchen. Leaning up against the counter, she said, “So, do you have to go home right away, or can you hang out for a bit? Maybe, you could … even … um … stay over? I really don’t want to be alone, especially after everything that happened tonight.” Somehow she managed to look nervous, embarrassed, and sexy all at the same time.
I swallowed. She really wants me to stay? This was going to seriously test my self-control because I was sure Carly hadn’t meant anything sexual by asking me to stay. I was pretty confident in my ability to pick up on sexual innuendos, and I could tell by the way she kissed me tonight that she had feelings for me, but that I’d have to take my time with her. She was special. Different. She deserved to be treated right. Is patience really a virtue? I was taking a long time to answer.
“If you don’t want to, it’s okay. I can call Becca. I should probably call her anyway. She must be worried about me. I’ve been ignoring her phone calls.”
I wasn’t about to let this opportunity go by. Quickly, I said, “I can stay as long as you want. I just need to send my mom a text so she doesn’t worry.” I typed her a quick note. I didn’t think my mom would approve, so I didn’t wait for her response. I turned off my phone and shoved it back into my pocket. It was late and she probably wouldn’t get it until the morning anyway. When she did, at least she’d know I was okay, even if she was angry.
“Thanks. Are you sure you won’t get in trouble?”
“I’m sure,” I lied. My mom was pretty strict about these things, but I didn’t care if I got in trouble. It’d be totally worth it. Anyway, I was eighteen and could do pretty much whatever I wanted.
“Okay, because I’d feel bad if you did.” It was hard to look away. I moved in closer, placing a hand on the counter on either side of her, trapping her.
“No worries,” I said. “What do you usually do when you have to stay home alone?”