by Emma Nichols
With every move, a yearning had grown stronger inside me to stay put in one city. I never told my parents, but I longed for a place I could call home and grow roots.
Then the summer before my senior year in high school while my family was based in Minneapolis, three things happened that changed the course of my life.
Dad announced we were headed for China for a year. Zure Industries had a huge merger taking place in the fall, as well as the possibility of purchasing several new companies in Asia that he wanted to personally scout out. That meant a whirlwind of nonstop traveling and entertaining. Even though I was almost eighteen, China probably meant extremely tight boundaries for me for security reasons, which would make it even lonelier with my parents so busy.
Another announcement came on the heels of my father’s. Peaches was getting married in early August and wouldn’t be traveling with us to China. The news wasn’t a huge shock since we’d met her boyfriend and it was obvious they were mad about each other. I wished nothing but happiness for Peaches, but I knew I’d miss her terribly. She wasn’t just a nanny to me, but more like the aunt I never had. We’d still see each other and stay in close touch, but it would be a major change. Plus, China would totally suck.
A day later, I received an email from my friend, Lacey Coldwell, in Linwood, Pennsylvania. We’d become fast friends when I attended St. Martin’s private school there for six months in the ninth grade. I hadn’t seen Lacy since then and it was only natural our emails had dwindled off, although she faithfully wrote every June inviting me to come visit her in Pennsylvania during the summer. I had always wanted to visit but the timing never worked out. It wouldn’t work out again this summer, either, but Lacey’s email had given me an idea.
St. Martin’s was a boarding school, as well, although I’d been a day student when I attended. My parents had leased a house not far away and Peaches drove me back and forth to school each day while Dad worked on a research center deal in nearby Philadelphia. But Lacy stayed there from September to May and by all reports, actually seemed to like living in the girl’s dorm.
Mom’s face had been crestfallen when she understood I was requesting to spend my senior year at St. Martin’s boarding school versus going to China, but Dad was onboard right away. He helped me convince my mother it was in my best interests. Since my dad has never had a problem convincing Mom of anything when he sets his brilliant, ruthless mind to it, I was soon enrolled at St. Martin’s and signed up to share a senior dorm suite in Gilman Hall with an excited Lacey Coldwell starting in late August.
Lacey and I called each other often that summer. We got reacquainted and our friendship became as tight as ever. Lacey’s personality was friendly, funny, and kind. I was positive I’d made the right decision to stay in the States.
While I vaguely recalled a few other girlfriends and some boys from my short time at St. Martin’s, Lacey was friends with everybody at school. I asked Lacey once if she was interested in anyone more than a friend. She confessed she’d been crushing on the same guy since tenth grade, but knew he was out of her league and never gonna happen as a boyfriend. I then admitted to her that I was selfishly relieved she didn’t have a boyfriend to take up all her time.
It seemed that summer passed in a blink. I was excited and a little apprehensive for my next adventure, and when the car pulled up at Gilman Hall, my stomach was full of butterflies. Part of the apprehension was being separated from my parents for the first time in my life.
Lacey had greeted us all when we arrived. She hadn’t changed much since ninth grade. She was still cute, bubbly, and happily bemoaning the fact she was on the chubby side. We shared a picnic lunch at an outdoor table on the lush school grounds. After an hour of lively conversation and laughter as the outgoing Lacey got to know my parents, she excused herself to do some errands, thoughtfully leaving my family some alone time to get me settled up in our dorm suite.
Dad saw to my luggage and then Mom efficiently helped me unpack. The dorm suite had two small bedrooms, a miniscule living area, and a shared bath. Every few minutes Mom dissolved into tears, her hugs fraught with whispered plans of how to survive my senior year alone. I hugged her back, reassuring her plans were etched on my brain since we’d already discussed them in detail all summer. My dad stepped in to break up the cryfest, and we shared one last Zure family group hug in the privacy of my room.
Even Dad wiped a tear away when I hugged them tight and whispered, “For such a sociopathic business tycoon and his silly socialite hostess, you guys have done a great job keeping our family together all these years. I’m gonna miss you both so much!”
A few minutes later, I accompanied my parents down to their waiting car. After a final round of hugs and kisses, I stood on the front stairs of Gilman Hall waving a last good-bye to their disappearing limo while trying to discreetly sop up the tears flowing from my eyes.
“Are those happy tears or I hate my parents and am relieved AF to see their dust?”
“They’re happy tears,” I exclaimed on an indignant sniff without glancing at the person who’d spoken, but then adding with curiosity, “and what does ‘relieved AF’ mean, anyway?”
I took the wad of Kleenex away from my face and froze.
Standing at ground level a few stairs below me was an amazingly hot guy with long hair the color of my favorite Swiss dark chocolate pulled back in a low ponytail. He was wearing a navy tank, the front and under the arms rimmed dark with sweat. There was an image of a snarling cougar on the shirt and on his gray gym shorts marking him a St. Martin’s student.
His tanned, well-developed muscles were shiny with sweat. Even the hairs on his arms, legs, and what I could see of his chest glistened with a tiny spark of gold in the muggy August sunshine. When my eyes made it up to his face, the sun picked out the golden glints in his dark chocolate eyes, as well.
Without thinking, I mumbled, “You’re not a runner.”
Seemingly unperturbed I’d been checking him out, he laughed easily while answering, “Well, I run, but no, I’m not a runner.” He scratched his arm absently as he stared up at me. “Relieved as fuck.”
“Excuse me?” I blinked, but was unable to break away from his intense gaze.
“That’s what the AF means,” he explained, a smile playing on his mouth.
“Oh,” I answered brilliantly, still staring down at him. “Thanks.”
“I have a friend, Buddy, who always comes up with the latest trendy sayings. Buddy thinks this one will catch on because people are always looking for ways to swear without swearing.” He asked with sincerity, as if my opinion mattered hugely to him, “What do you think?”
I had to lick my lips so that I could speak. “I think Buddy is right AF.”
“Me, too.” Raising his eyes from my mouth, he smiled. I smiled back with a quick, nervous curve of my lips.
I’d never been so instantaneously on edge around a guy. On the edge of what, I wasn’t sure yet but my muscles clenched somewhere in the vicinity of my stomach.
“I don’t know too many girls who’d cry so hard to see their parents leave,” he commented, squinting slightly in thought as he idly stroked his arm where he’d been itching a second ago. “Actually, I don’t know even one girl who’d do that. It’s very sweet.”
At first, his words barely registered. I was still too mesmerized by his gleaming eyes and my sudden craving for a chocolate bar.
When they did, I tried to cover my embarrassment he’d witnessed me bawling by rolling my eyes and mumbling with flip bravado, “Try hanging out with a younger crowd, say preschool, and you’ll see crybabies all the time.”
Truthfully, I wasn’t even really aware of what I was saying, but I was happy when he laughed, even though his eyebrows had risen in surprise first.
I was finally able to move my eyeballs, but only to dart glances between his handsome face and his muscular arm. He had a black tattoo that snaked sinuously from wrist to biceps and then disappeared up over his shoulder. I had a s
udden tantalizing compulsion to trace the mysterious tat with my finger to see where it led, or better yet, use my tongue.
Wanting to lick a sweaty boy’s tattoo was a first for me and I swallowed hard. I was somewhat dizzy and tingling, but in a good way. In fact, it was almost identical to the euphoria I’d experienced after secretly downing a few glasses of champagne last New Year’s Eve at a gala in D.C.
“So, answer this, green eyes. Does it make me crazy AF that I think you’re the woman of my dreams and I want to marry you?” His voice was so soft, I thought for a shocked moment I’d misheard him, but his slow smile assured me that I hadn’t.
Green eyes? Boy, this hottie knew all the smooth moves, although I didn’t feel too played once I saw him swallow hard, too. Besides, I couldn’t be played. I knew exactly what I wanted out of life.
“My parents?” I motioned vaguely in the direction of the road and he nodded slightly. “They met the first night they started college. Both swear to this day it was passionate, irrevocable love at first sight. They married a few months later and then had me.” My brain unfroze the more I spoke and was I ever relieved to gain back some of my usual poise. “So, my answer is I don’t know about yours, but crazy AF runs in my family. Be careful what you wish for.”
“Aw, no wonder why you cried when they left.” He grinned, a dazzling flash of white teeth. “But now I’m completely convinced you’re my sweet woman and I won’t have to stalk Linwood Elementary after all.”
I nodded, smiling serenely, even as I vaguely wondered if what he said was weird or not. I think it was a little weird, but I also didn’t care. Now that the shock had worn off, I wasn’t at all surprised this was happening to me.
It was in my DNA to be crazily attracted to the man I’ve been dreaming of for years when I finally met him, weird sense of humor or not. I’d travelled the world since I was five and met many boys. I’d been mildly attracted here and there and even made out with one cutie at a party last spring. But this was the first time I ever wanted to swoon over a boy.
I walked down the cement stairs separating us until I stood only one riser above him, our eyes level. “I’m not adverse to the concept of being your woman,” I smiled a little, “although how sweet I am is up for debate.” I held up a cautionary hand as he made a slight motion to move. “But wait, we have to establish a few habits first before we marry and can live happily-AF-ever-after. By the way, I’m Cloey Josephine Zure.”
“Cloey.” He hadn’t lost his grin and now it broadened as his hand reached out and engulfed mine. He squeezed lightly, but didn’t same more after uttering my name as his eyes traveled over me, eating me up with their dark, sparkling gaze. I swore the stairs swayed under my feet. I wouldn’t be surprised if Gilman Hall was swaying on its brick foundations behind me, as well.
As we stood clasping hands, a slight breeze kicked up and brought the salty, tangy smell of his sweat to my nose.
I closed my eyes and softly inhaled him.
Oh my God, he smelled good; healthy male and hot.
The tingly, clenched sensation had definitely spread much lower than my stomach.
“I’m Joseph Randolph Barrington Jr.,” his voice sounded raspier with my eyes closed, “but go by Joe.”
“Joe.” Of course he’d go by Joe, I thought, smiling in relief while repeating his name.
His grip on my hand tightened even harder. “And please don’t do that sexy breathing thing again unless you want me to kiss your mouth right here, right now.”
My eyes flew open to meet his. I didn’t respond to what he said about kissing, even though I was thrilled he found my breathing sexy since I did it so effortlessly. Actually, my mouth was begging to be kissed by this boy right here, right now, or right anywhere, but first I had to verify a couple of points.
I asked cautiously, “But you’re a regular Joe, right?” I watched for his reaction carefully. “You’re not some Joseph Jr. trust fund baby who’s never going to do an honest day’s work in his life, are you?”
“What?” Joe appeared slightly discomposed for the first time since he’d approached me, but recovered quickly. “No, I’m not a trust fund baby.” He squinted slightly and then stopped talking, rubbing his chin for a moment. “Well damn, technically, I guess I do have a trust fund but,” he flashed his cute grin again, “I’m sure I’ll be working many days of my life.”
“Doing what?” I asked suspiciously; seeing my cozy hobby farm fading into the distance before my narrowed eyes. “Living in a New York City mansion and counting your family’s filthy lucre?”
Joe’s loud laughter was appealingly contagious and I fought an answering smile because this was my future I was getting straight.
“Our house in Philly is pretty big and I suppose working for Barrington Construction can be dirty, but there’s nothing filthy about the money we make.”
Pursing my lips, I dropped my eyes speculatively to his muscles again. “Can you lift heavy things? Do you know how to fix stuff when they’re broken, such as toasters and toilets?”
“Yes, I can fix most things.” Joe moved forward, shortening the distance between our faces to a couple of inches. “How about if I lift you in my arms, you crazy AF girl of my dreams, and I carry you to my truck? We can find out there how heavy things can get with us.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He seemed somewhat surprised at my easy capitulation.
“Umm, okay, Joe?” I amended, raising my brows to inquire if I’d gotten the answer right this time.
He shook his head and laughed loudly again, quickly dropping my hand to sweep me in his arms. I put mine around Joe’s warm neck and held on loosely as he carried me across the springy green lawn to the student parking lot. I was so gone I didn’t even mind I was plastered against his sweaty chest or that people were looking at us strangely.
As we neared a shiny red truck, I tapped Joe’s temple with a knuckle to get his attention. I didn’t particularly want to let on how sexually inexperienced I was, but my words spoke for themselves when I stated unequivocally, “I will be a virgin on our wedding night.”
I couldn’t be sure if Joe’s voice was shaking due to disappointment, excitement, or laughter when he responded without hesitation, “But until then, you’re saying everything else is a green light?”
I was a little bewildered how fast we’d gone from me keeping my virginity to celebrate one special night, to me doing everything else but losing my virginity all the rest of the time.
I also couldn’t be sure what the ‘everything else’ Joe referred to actually was, but while I was inexperienced and had protective parents, I wasn’t that protected from real life.
It was clear regular Joe was clever, glib, and he was obviously an operator, as my dad would say. But I was sure I could handle any sexual challenges the ordinary, average man of my dreams threw my way, plus up the ante with a few challenges of my own.
My voice was shaking due to excitement and not bravado when I answered agreeably, “Green light and all systems go.” I tapped Joe’s temple again with a knuckle to get his attention and stop him because he’d started jogging toward the truck. “Now, before we get to your truck and share our first, chaste kiss tell me what you think of fainting goats. Are they the most adorable things in the animal kingdom or what?”
Joe and I spent the rest of that memorable day and night together in his truck. After that, we spent the next nine months together attached at the hip.
Joe played his sports, went to practices, and classes, but every other free moment was spent with me. He admitted ruefully his closest friends, which was the Buddy he’d mentioned and a group of guys on the varsity football team, were giving him shit for basically ditching his posse for his new girlfriend. On the rare nights we did hang out with his friends, I got the impression from some of their snarky comments, especially Buddy’s, that underneath all the teasing, they seriously did blame me that their brah had gone MIA. I was kind of honored to be such a temptress.
> It wasn’t as tough for me to be with Joe. There was no history for me at St. Martin’s and I didn’t care if I made new friends. It wasn’t a hard choice between sating our intense sexual desires in Joe’s red truck or grabbing a burger and gossiping over inane crap with a new girlfriend.
Joe honored my decree I technically stay a virgin. His ‘everything else’ kept us very busy. Joe was insatiable and adventuresome. I was eager and willing to try anything once. I didn’t stay inexperienced for long. We were so perfectly matched; I could practically hear the bleating of our future herd of fainting goats.
If Joe hadn’t been such a loving, nice guy, fun to be with and always willing to talk, I might have worried our relationship was based on our incredible sexual passion, our lovemaking sessions were that excitingly wild. But I was deeply attracted to Joe on every level. I respected his opinions, delighted in his sense of humor, was proud of his quick brains, and humbled by his unspoiled, kind nature.
The school year flew by for me in a fever pitch of arousal. Most days, I walked around the campus on a delirious cloud nine, oblivious to everyone around me, and counting the seconds until we’d be together again.
Joe and I were young but this was true love.
Poor Lacey Coldwell. Here I was worried she’d have a boyfriend and have zero time for me, when it was actually the complete opposite.
When I’d arrived back to our dorm right before curfew that first night, after a few moments of her gaping speechlessness that Joe and I had hooked up so quickly, and other than breathing out I was the luckiest bitch alive, Lacey never once spoke a word of complaint that I’d basically ditched her for Joe. She’d known him for years and thought he was the hottest, nicest guy at school, too.
I picked her brain, wanting to know every little detail about Joe. She laughingly warned me that while he was nice, Joe’s rep was that of a player, not boyfriend material. I waved that off; instinctively knowing it was different between me and Joe even then. Lacey said Joe dated a girl named Lisa the previous year, but only a couple of times. She and Lacey had been casual friends until Lisa moved.
