Instead of You

by Anie Michaels

  He shook his head as a grin came over his mouth. But then he covered it up with his hand and moved his gaze to his shoes. When his eyes met mine again, the smile was gone. “That was just me, taking a risk, and being an asshole.”

  Before I could even digest the words, he spun around and walked back toward the ballroom. Left standing in the chilly evening all alone with my fingertips still running over the skin left buzzing by his kiss, I was confused as ever.

  What in the world?

  Hayes had just given me my very first kiss. Stolen it, really. And seemed pleased to do so. And he’d wanted to do it for the longest time? How long? I was sixteen, he was twenty. And his chest was so firm.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head at the thoughts running loose in my mind. He’d turned around and walked away, but I was still standing in the cold, my fingers pressed against my lips, somehow trying to hold on to the way it felt to be kissed by him. By Hayes. Oh, God.

  “Kenzie?” Cory’s voice snapped my head back up and my hand away from my lips. “What are you doing out here? Are you all right?”

  It scared me how easily the lie slipped from my mouth. “The music was so loud, I was starting to get a headache.”

  “Do you want me to bring you some water? I could ask my mom if she has any Tylenol.”

  “No, I think I’ll be okay.” I stared at him, silently hoping he’d go back into his party where all our friends would be glad to dance with him, to hang out with him, to occupy him while I used what little brainpower I had left to dissect what had happened between Hayes and me. Instead, he stepped closer.

  “I was hoping you would dance with me.”

  “You know I don’t dance.”

  He stopped inches from me, just as his brother had not five minutes before. His hands were in the pockets of his suit pants, and he bent at the knee slightly to look me in the eye. “Come on, Kenzie. It’s my birthday,” he pleaded, batting his too-long eyelashes at me. “Dance with me.” His last words were spoken softly, as if he were embarrassed to be asking me at all. But it was his birthday, and I had technically come to his party with him—I owed him at least a dance.

  “Okay,” I replied, my voice matching his in softness.

  He took another tentative step toward me, his eyes never leaving mine, then pulled his hands from his pockets. One reached out and landed on the curve of my waist, the other he held up, waiting for me to place my palm in his.

  Touching wasn’t new for us, and dancing wasn’t either. But dancing in the dark, alone, with only the distant sound of music in the background was uncharted territory. This was something that, had you asked anyone, was destined to happen. We were both finally sixteen years old: let the relationship commence. I knew it was coming, yet the only feeling I had about it was trepidation.

  Could Cory tell I’d just kissed his brother? Could he somehow smell Hayes on me? Were my lips as swollen and sensitive as they felt? Was my waist hot where his hands had been?

  I could only hope all the answers were no, pray that Cory had no idea his brother had totally and completely obliterated me with just one kiss.

  “Can you believe we finally made it?” Cory asked as we swayed in tiny circles.

  “Made it?”

  “To sixteen. We finally made it.”

  “Oh, yeah. Suddenly I feel like the years flew by.”

  “Really?” he asked, his smile lighting up his boyish face. “The last two years have been torture for me, dragging on and on.” His hands slid farther around my waist, effectively pulling me a little closer as his hand came to rest in the small of my back. “But now we’re here, and we’re both sixteen. All I want, Kenzie, is for us to finally be together.”

  I saw him duck, watched as his face drew nearer to mine, and tried to hide the horror from my face when I realized Cory was going to kiss me.

  His mouth met mine with a little too much force, causing my teeth to painfully press into my lips, but once his mouth was there, it stalled for a moment, leaving me blinking, afraid to move, kissing my best friend. When Cory finally moved, it was to spread his lips, his tongue darting out and forcing my lips apart in the process. Our teeth knocked together as his tongue continued to explore. I pulled away, horrified at how terrible we were at kissing each other, but his mouth followed mine and his hands pulled me closer.

  When the kiss was finally over, no less than one million thoughts filtered through my mind. How in the world had I gone sixteen years without one kiss, but managed to get two in less than ten minutes? I tried to focus on the thoughts that told me the quality of the kisses were both based on experience, which would explain why Cory’s was the less successful of the two; Hayes obviously had more experience. And while I was busy convincing myself the kiss with Cory was just a matter of practice, I also tried to tamp down the voice in my head that was telling me it was more than that. The small, yet loud, voice that screamed at me that the kiss was about chemistry, and that I had none with Cory. I tried very hard not to listen to my body which, after both kisses, could declare a clear winner.

  My poor heart. No one had informed it there’d be a competition. No one had warned me about Hayes.

  “Wow,” Cory breathed as he pulled away from me, his eyes still sparkling, mouth tipped up into a smile. I tried to match his smile, tried to, in some way, force myself to be just as enamored with that kiss as Cory was. “I know you’re nervous, Kenz I do,” he said as his forehead came to rest against mine, both his hands now wrapped firmly around my waist. I let myself lean into him, hoping he could calm the panic rising within me. “But I know we are meant to be together, and I’ll spend as long as it takes convincing you of that.”

  His mouth moved slowly toward mine again, and thankfully, the second kiss was much better than the first. It was soft and sweet, less insistent and less involved. It was the first kiss I imagined us sharing, except it wasn’t my first.

  “Let me prove it to you.” He whispered this against my lips, and I knew I had no other choice except to answer with my own whispered response.

  “Okay.”

  Chapter Two

  1:00 a.m., Cory’s Seventeenth Birthday

  McKenzie

  I was startled awake by the unmistakable sound of my window being opened. The sound of wood sliding against wood pulled me from a deep sleep and it took me a moment to realize where I was and what was happening. Once it fully occurred to me that someone was climbing in my window, I shot out of my bed like lightning. I had made it to my feet just in time to see a dark, shadow of a person moving toward me. Before I could scream to save my life, warm and familiar hands rested on my shoulders, and a soothing voice spoke to me.

  “Kenz, it’s me, don’t freak out.” Cory’s voice was instantly recognizable, and it took me from terrified to irritated in a flash.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper-yelled, my eyes starting to make out the features of his face in the darkness. He stepped closer to me, his hands moving down my arms, then landing on my waist and moving upward. It had been exactly one year, to the day, even, since Cory had started touching me less like a best friend and more like a boyfriend. I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t take a while to get used to. But I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t like it.

  I pushed his hands away halfheartedly, grinning when they only started at my waist again and moved up. He was hard to dissuade, I’d found.

  “It’s our one-year anniversary, Kenzie. I was lying in bed thinking about how much I love you, and I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to come over here and tell you to your face.” His lips found mine and I could feel his smile against my mouth. His hands traveled north again, stopping very high along my ribcage. “Sweet Jesus, you’re not wearing a bra.” As if to prove his point, his hands moved all the way to my back, feeling for my bra strap. “Tiny sweet baby Jesus,” he whispered as his hands moved toward my front. I rolled my eyes, knowing he couldn’t see me. I swatted his hands away just before they covered my breasts. Not because I was particu
larly against him touching me there, but more so because I knew it would frustrate him and he’d just woken me from a very deep sleep. Karma was a bitch.

  “Girls don’t normally sleep in bras, Cory.” His hands came to my hips again, but this time they moved south. He let out a soft groan when his hands smoothed over the edge of my nightgown, which only fell a few inches below the curve of my rear. Suddenly, his hands moved down even farther, wrapping around the back of my thighs, lifting me. I stifled the yelp I wanted to let out in surprise, and wrapped my arms and legs around him.

  He slowly lowered me to my bed, letting his body cover mine, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other pressed against the mattress by my head.

  “This is the best anniversary gift ever.”

  I rolled my eyes playfully, watching a smile spread across his face before he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of my neck. “I wasn’t expecting you, Cory. I didn’t put this nightgown on for your enjoyment.”

  “That’s not going to stop me from enjoying it.” His mouth moved along my neck and I bit down on my bottom lip to keep quiet.

  “My parents are just down the hall,” I whispered.

  He pulled away and looked me right in the eyes, his nose an inch or two from mine. “Then you’re going to have to be really quiet.”

  Before I could think of a response his lips were kissing mine. As if it came naturally, my knees spread, making room for him, and I felt every movement as his hips settled between them. The rubbing of his denim jeans against the bare skin of my thighs, the zipper of his hoodie snagging on the soft cotton of my nightgown; I felt it all.

  This wasn’t necessarily an uncommon occurrence for us. We made out often, as any seventeen-year-old couple would. Almost any chance we got alone we spent exploring each other, but I had never let it go very far. Up until that point, our clothes had always remained on, and he’d only ever felt me up on the outside of my shirt. So to feel him hard, pressing against me, well, that was something new to experience.

  It had taken me a while to warm up to being Cory’s girlfriend. It felt strange and awkward at first, as though it were forced, which made it uncomfortable. But then, one day, I had a moment of realization where I stopped looking at Cory as the boy everyone expected me to spend the rest of my life with, and looked at him as though he were my boyfriend in that very moment. No history, no future aside from our plans the next weekend.

  I took the pressure off our relationship and realized it was easier to be with him, easier than constantly thinking about how much everyone expected of us. And even though I wasn’t looking into the future with Cory, he definitely was. He’d immediately told me he loved me, which caused an epic panic attack. It was two weeks after his sixteenth birthday. He’d taken me to a fancy restaurant, and from across the table, with a lit candle flickering in between us, told me he loved me. He said he’d always loved me. And while I’d always loved him too, it’d been my best friend I’d loved, not my boyfriend.

  When I couldn’t say it back, when I wasn’t even sure I’d ever be able to say it back, he simply reached across the table, took my hand in his, and told me he’d wait forever—that he knew I’d come around. He’d been waiting almost a year to hear me say those words, and I still wasn’t ready.

  There were nights I’d lie awake and think about him, think about us, and wonder if I was being fair to him by staying with him, but caring too much about someone seemed like a terrible reason to end a relationship. Because I did care about Cory, so much, but I worried it wasn’t the same way he cared about me. I also worried that even though he said I’d come around in time, I never would.

  All these heavy thoughts seemed to float away like vapor when he kissed me though. When his hands drifted over my body my mind shut down and I didn’t think about anything except the way he made my body feel. Tonight was no exception.

  My nightgown was a very thin divider between us and offered no buffer to the way his hands were roaming over my breasts, the way he tentatively palmed me through the cotton, gently squeezing. I gasped, my mouth breaking free from his, and my back arched off the bed. I wanted more friction, wanted him to not be so tender with me, but a tiny voice in the back of my mind told me that was slutty, made me feel dirty in some way for wanting those things. It was hard to wrap my mind around, especially when Cory’s hands were on me, doing things to me that made me feel good. I just always seemed to want it to be… more… in some way.

  His hands left my breasts, sliding down, and he sat up a little when they reached my hips. His fingertips started slowly bunching up the material of my nightgown, pulling it up to my waist. His eyes were locked on mine, silently and respectfully asking permission. I gave him a slight nod, wanting to feel my body on fire again, and my breath hitched as I watched him pull my nightgown all the way up, then over my head, revealing me to him for the first time ever.

  I was trapped in a weird moment where I desperately wanted to watch his face, to see his reaction the first time he saw me nearly naked, but I also felt more than a little embarrassed and fought the urge to cover myself. Cory, the boy who’d pulled my pigtails in kindergarten, who’d seen me throw up in the bushes during our families’ annual camping trip, was looking at me topless. My best friend was looking at me as though I were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and I had to remind myself that he was my boyfriend, that I should be excited that he wanted to see me naked, not embarrassed.

  However, much like all our previous encounters of the physical nature, my thoughts ceased when his hands came to my skin. When the warmth of his skin slid over me, my eyes closed and I was no longer looking at my best friend, I was only feeling. His fingers slid up my skin and I nearly cried out, the tension in my nipple surprising me. They were tight and hard, practically aching, and I needed something to take away the ache.

  Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to feel Cory’s warm tongue circle one of them. We’d never been this intimate with each other and I didn’t think he’d be that bold, but I was obviously mistaken. A low moan left me as his mouth closed over my nipple, one of his hands palming my other breast. He sucked me further into his mouth and tingles shot throughout my body while warmth flooded between my legs.

  I was moaning and squirming beneath him, trying to deal with all the new and powerful feelings, but also trying to keep somewhat of a level head. We’d never gone this far before, but I knew I didn’t want to go any farther. One step at a time. I didn’t want my first sexual experience to be in my bedroom while my parents slept down the hall.

  “Cory,” I whispered. He stopped immediately and slowly removed his mouth from me, only to rest his forehead right between my breasts and let out a groan. “You should go.”

  He took in a deep breath, but then lifted his head and his eyes found mine in the dark. “I love you,” he said. His voice didn’t sound loving, it sounded exasperated, and I heard a “but” coming. “Why don’t you trust me?” Ah, the “but” came in the form of a question.

  “I do trust you. I’m just not ready.” I tried to keep my words calm, but I was tired of always having to tell him to stop. I wished he’d stop himself sometimes. “You know I’m not ready.”

  He let out another breath, but this time it was louder and he pushed off me. I pulled a blanket up to cover myself and sat up, readying myself for the argument we’d had a few times already. It always came back to me. He didn’t understand my mixed signals. And I would be the first to admit I sent them. There were times, like two minutes ago, when I was totally into it. Times when I wanted to feel something, to know what that level of connection felt like. But I also wondered, in the back of my mind, why I didn’t feel more connected with Cory to begin with. I didn’t long to feel connected to him, I just wanted to feel. And it was those doubts that stopped me.

  Regardless of all that, I stood firm in my belief that if I wasn’t comfortable, for whatever reason, it was my right to be so and to stop him. I didn’t like that he sometimes got angry with me for pu
tting the brakes on.

  He stared at me for a moment and then flopped on his back, making the mattress shake. He raked his palms down his face and then rested his hands above his head. After a quiet minute he rolled toward me.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll try to keep myself under control in the future.” Another but was coming. “But, sometimes McKenzie, it really feels like it’s not sex you’re unsure about.”

  Panicking a little on the inside, wondering if I were truly that transparent, I had to steel myself on the outside because the last thing I wanted to do was hurt Cory. Swinging my legs around, I lined my body up next to his, propping myself up on one elbow to look down at him. I brought my other hand to his chest, then ran it up over his neck to cup his cheek.

  “This is normal, losing-my-virginity jitters. I’ll try harder not to get too swept up in the moment. I’m not trying to lead you on or make you angry. I just, quite honestly, don’t feel ready. I need you to respect that.” My eyes darted back and forth between his, watching as he took in my words.

  He closed the small distance between us, bringing his mouth up to mine in a very sweet and chaste kiss. He pulled away after a moment, and we stared at each other. Until he spoke.

  “But, if you had to guess a timeframe, when do you think you will be ready?”

  My mouth opened, jaw dropping, and I scoffed at him. He was smiling, but obviously a little serious. I playfully slapped his arm. “Cory, my God….”

  “I’m just kidding. Sort of.”

  I looked down at my boyfriend, my best friend, and knew he was only being a normal seventeen-year-old boy.

  “Tell you what. One year from today, your eighteenth birthday. I’ll be ready.”

  “A whole year?” he practically shouted, a shocked expression on his face.

  “Shhhhh,” I whisper-yelled, eyes darting to my bedroom door, listening for any sounds of my parents stirring. Hearing nothing from the hallway, I turned back to Cory. “You’re ridiculous. You can wait a year. Until then, just assume it’s not going to happen. Look at it this way,” I said with a smile. “If I change my mind, it’ll be a surprise.” He let out a loud groan, making me laugh. I took his arm and moved it out so I could put my head in the crook of his neck, and snuggled in. “You know you’re my favorite, right?”