The Year We Hid Away

by Bowen, Sarina

  Moping over the carefree life I’d lost was totally pointless. But it hurt.

  “Hi, I’m Corey,” Hartley’s girlfriend said, with a wave at Scarlet, who was now standing behind me. “If Bridger won’t introduce me, I’ll do it myself.”

  “No need to get impatient, Callahan. I was getting to that.” I wrapped an arm around my girl. “This is Hartley, one of my oldest friends. And Corey Callahan, who’s a pain in my ass. Guys, this is my girlfriend Scarlet.”

  There was a loud silence. Instead of saying something, both Hartley and Corey were openly staring, their mouths open.

  Great.

  Corey exchanged a loaded glance with Hartley. “Say it again,” she demanded.

  “C’mon, Callahan,” I grumbled. “You’re making me look bad, here.” I snuck a glance at Scarlet, but she only looked amused.

  Hartley recovered first. “It’s nice to meet you, Scarlet.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Now I know why we haven’t seen Bridger since September.”

  Corey dropped Hartley’s hand, so that she had a free one to shake hands with Scarlet. “Really, a pleasure to meet Bridger’s girlfriend.” Her eyes twinkled. “Wow. I can’t believe that I have to sit down to a study session right now, after that bomb you just dropped, Bridge. Just promise me that we can all hang out soon.”

  “Sure thing,” I lied.

  “I’d better get over there. Nice to meet you, Scarlet!” She gave Scarlet a big smile, and me a wink. Hartley kissed her on the temple, and then she began to walk across the atrium toward the meeting rooms, planting the cane lightly with every other step.

  My eyes tracked after her. “Damn, that’s really impressive.”

  “I know, right?” Hartley agreed, flinging himself into a chair. “It’s those new braces. There was a hell of a learning curve, but the results are pretty incredible.”

  “Is she… Will she get to skate again?” I sat down on the sofa, tugging Scarlet down next to me.

  Hartley shook his head. “Nah. The motion’s not the same. And it’s too risky. If she broke a wrist, and couldn’t hold the cane for a couple of months, that would be a disaster.” He leaned over to punch me in the arm. “But, seriously, let’s compare schedules. Hockey is kicking my ass for the next three months. But there has to be a couple of hours somewhere. Preferably with a case of beer and a football game. But either way…”

  “Sure.”

  “Gotta run,” Hartley said. “I have a history lecture. But, soon, okay?”

  “Soon,” I echoed as Hartley got up and trotted off.

  I watched him for a second before turning to Scarlet beside me. “So that was…”

  “…Fascinating,” she finished for me. “First of all, your best friends don’t know you have Lucy?”

  I gave my chin a single shake. “They’re the last people I can tell.”

  “God, why?”

  “Because they’d do anything for me.”

  Her frown deepened. “And that’s a problem because…?”

  “Hartley’s mom waited two decades to go to nursing school. And I’m not going to wreck it.”

  “Damn,” she whispered. “But maybe there’s some way she could help you around the edges. I don’t know… weekends or something?”

  I shook my head again. “That’s not how Theresa works. She puts other people first. I’m not going to be the one who fucks up her dream.”

  “Oh, Bridge,” she put her head on my shoulder.

  “Scarlet?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is it okay that I called you my girlfriend?”

  She was quiet for a second. “I liked it,” she said quietly, “until I realized you only said it because you needed an alibi.”

  I slid my arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “No, I swear. It just slipped out, because that’s who you are to me.” I stole a single kiss before continuing. “I’ve never had a girlfriend before. I’m probably doing everything wrong. But I sure liked saying it.”

  She lifted her chin, and her hazel eyes sparkled. “Well, if you put it that way.”

  “I’m sorry my friends got so freaked out for a minute there. Last year…” I paused. And then I realized I had no idea what to say for myself.

  Scarlet seemed amused by my discomfort. “The Katies told me that you never even dated anyone twice in a row. They told me to watch out for you.”

  “Well, ouch.” I hated the idea that Scarlet’s freshmen roommates, who I didn’t really know, would talk about me like that. Even if what they said was mostly true. There were no secrets at Harkness. And now that I was carrying around a doozy of a secret, the gossip mill practically made me break into a sweat. “Maybe The Katies are right. I still haven’t managed to date you two nights in a row, yet.”

  Scarlet punched me in the arm, and I kissed her on the lips. “Don’t worry,” she breathed. “I don’t listen to everything they say.”

  I tightened my arms around her, putting my lips right beside her ear. “I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend this year.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. Because I’d never said this before. “Hell, I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend ever. I never needed that connection before. But I like having you in my life. It’s better with you here.”

  “I like being here,” she whispered.

  So I kissed her again. And then, because this is my life and not somebody’s love song, my watch beeped.

  Chapter Nine: Never Much of a Basketball Fan

  — Scarlet

  On Friday afternoon, I received a text from Bridger: Please tell me you’re free tonight. Giving you like 6 hours advance notice, here.

  I called him immediately. “Seriously? Where are we going?”

  “Nowhere,” he said. “Sorry about that. But we can watch a movie at my place together, for once. Come at eight-thirty, which is after bedtime.”

  “How…?”

  “You’ll see. I’m in the second courtyard — the little one.”

  I had no clue why it should suddenly work out for us to watch a movie in Bridger’s room after Lulu’s bedtime, but I was ecstatic. I brought popcorn and Cokes, texting him from the courtyard at exactly eight-thirty: Knock Knock.

  A minute later Bridger’s head popped out of an entryway door. “Hi,” he said, smiling at me.

  I couldn’t keep the big grin off my face. “Hi.” And then I kissed him right there on the doorstep. I was just so happy to see him.

  “Mmm,” he said. “Come upstairs, okay? But we’re going to tiptoe through my room, and then through the fire door.”

  I followed him as he opened the door to his room — a single. Lulu was asleep on a mattress on the floor, which lay beside Bridger’s bed. Her sleeping face wore a serious expression, her hair fanning out on the pillow. We tiptoed around her, then on through a wooden door, into the neighboring room. It was a single of similar proportions.

  Bridger shut the door behind us. “My neighbor is on the basketball team,” he said. “And they’re away at Dartmouth tonight, for a preseason tournament. I asked him if we could sit in here and watch TV while he was gone.”

  “Brilliant. But what if she wakes up?”

  He shook his head. “She sleeps like the dead. But also, I told her exactly where I’d be.” He bent over his neighbor’s bed, which was a tangled mess. Bridger straightened the spread as best he could. “He’s such a slob. Hang on,” he said. He slipped back into his own room and returned with his own comforter and pillows, arranging them on the bed. I sat down on the finished product, a pillow between my back and the wall.

  The neighbor had a big flat-screen TV. Bridger flipped through the offerings, but there was nothing terribly appealing. “Let’s just settle for that comedy,” I said at last.

  “Sure,” Bridger agreed.

  For about ten minutes we watched the movie, drinking Coke and snuggling against each other. But I couldn’t keep my mind on the plot. The solid weight of Bridger’s arm around me, and the feel of his thumb stroking my palm stoked my senses. I was
all too aware of the heat of his body and the masculine scent of his soap. It was enough to make me want to launch myself at him. And I probably would have, if he hadn’t gone there first.

  Dropping his head, Bridger placed his lips on the side of my neck and began to kiss me. As it always did, the feel of his mouth on my body made me quiver with joy. It wasn’t long before I rolled back onto the bed, pulling him down on top of me.

  With a chuckle, Bridger muted the video. And then we behaved like crazy, frantic people. His kisses were those of a starving man, devouring me. I wrenched his t-shirt over his head as if was about to burn him. He threw my top and bra across the room as if they would bite.

  We’d waited a long time for this, to be alone together. Every night when I climbed into bed alone, I lay on my side, just imagining him curled up beside me. I also had sexier fantasies. I dreamt of him hovering above me, his warmth weighing me down, his hands on my body.

  I’d been wanting this, but I’d also been nervous about it. Yet now, skin to skin, our kisses were hot and urgent. There was no room in my heart for nerves. He laid on top of me, caressing my breasts, his hips sliding over mine. I felt warmth blossom everywhere he touched me. He felt so right, fitted between my legs. In spite of my lack of experience, my body knew just what it wanted from him.

  Things didn’t slow down until he rolled aside and put his hand on the zipper of my jeans. “Scarlet, is this okay?” His voice was thick with desire.

  I nodded, reaching for his fly too.

  In the movies, the clothes just fall right off. But the truth of the matter is that getting two people out of jeans and socks and underwear in one small bed was more awkward than I would have thought.

  But never mind. In a couple of minutes we lay facing each other on the bed, nary a thread of clothing in evidence. One of my hands rested on Bridger’s naked hip. His free hand caressed my sternum. “Tell me what you like,” he breathed.

  I had never been naked with a guy before, and the sheer beauty of him overwhelmed me. I was in way over my head, and it would have been exactly the right time to tell him that I was a virgin. But I didn’t do it. Instead I said, “What I like is you.”

  As he leaned in to kiss me, his hand began a slow descent down my body. He paused at my belly to trace distracting circles there, before raking into the hair between my legs. And when his fingers found the wetness pooling there, we both gasped. Then I was paralyzed by the sensation of his touch, his fingers slicking an exquisite circle in a place where no man had ever touched me.

  Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh and oh… My mind was a continuous loop of surprise and delight. Distracted, my hand slipped off Bridger’s hip and onto his penis. “Mmm,” he said as I grazed it. So I wrapped my fingers around it, surprised at how perfectly straight it pointed up towards his chest. It was hard and silky at the same time, and when I slipped my hand up the length of it, he made a happy groan from the back of his throat.

  Heaven.

  Before long, it was difficult to breathe, and touch him, and kiss him and not faint from arousal all at the same time. Something had to give. My head rolled back onto the pillow and my hand released him. And then I was down to just the breathing and the miracles happening beneath Bridger’s hand.

  He moved closer to me then, his lips on my neck, one of his knees bent across my thighs. I was drowning in sensation, and in the wonder of so much of his skin pressed against mine. Then I felt a sort of heady acceleration, like feet running too quickly downhill. And a wave of pleasure swept me under, shimmering everywhere he touched me. I felt my back arch up off the bed, my hips twisting involuntarily. And I was lost to myself.

  The next thing I knew were Bridger’s fingertips pressed gently to my lips, and his chuckle in my ear. “Shh… You’ll wake the neighborhood,” he said softly.

  I sucked in oxygen as his words made it into my consciousness. “Sorry!”

  He nuzzled into my hair. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s just too bad that I don’t turn you on at all.” He chuckled again.

  Embarrassed, I punched him on the arm.

  “Easy, killer.” He folded me close to his chest, where I tried to slow down my breathing.

  “Wow,” was all I had to say for myself.

  He cupped my face in his hands and stared into my eyes. “You sexy thing,” he whispered, kissing me. I wrapped my arms around him, sliding onto his body. He felt so good underneath me, all solid muscle and taut skin. We kissed, and his hips rolled gently underneath me. His erection pressed into my belly.

  That’s when I finally began to feel nervous, because I wanted to make Bridger feel as wonderful as he’d made me feel. And I really had no idea what I was doing.

  — Bridger

  To say that I was raring to go would be a dramatic understatement. And it wasn’t only because I hadn’t had sex in a ridiculously long time. That was part of it. But the anticipation was sweeter than that. My life was shit right now, and meeting someone special had not been on my agenda. But it had happened anyway, somehow. And so here I was, skin to skin with the most amazing girl I’d ever met.

  Scarlet slipped off my body so that we lay facing each other again. Tentatively, she curled her hand around my shaft, her soft fingers stroking me. Damn. I had to clench every muscle in my body to try to control myself. And then I kissed her again, because it was either that or I’d probably start moaning like an overzealous porn star.

  I wanted Scarlet. Badly. Even though we’d never had the chance to have sex before in real life, in my fantasies she and I were already Division One champs. My imagination was pretty vivid, but the real thing was so much better. The way her soft hair slid across my chest made me crazy. And the intense, sexy look in her eyes just about undid me.

  I felt like a cartoon bomb with a fuse that was already lit. It was only a matter of time before I detonated. My hips moved of their own volition. She stroked me, and sighed into my mouth. And life was very, very good. Maybe too good.

  “Scarlet,” I whispered, catching her hands in mine. “If we’re going to have sex, you’d better stop that. But if you don’t want to go there tonight, that’s okay too.”

  She blinked, hesitating. And for a moment my body quivered with the fear that she was about to call everything to a halt. “I want to,” she whispered.

  Blowing out a breath, I made myself count to ten before I reached for the condom, which was in my jeans, somewhere on the floor. My body was on fire, but at the same time I didn’t want to rush this. This was Scarlet. I wanted to do everything right.

  “I never was much of a basketball fan until tonight,” she murmured.

  “What?” I asked, stupidly. “Oh!” I laughed. I’d forgotten the rest of the world existed. There was only Scarlet and I, and bare skin.

  Rustling through our discarded clothing, I finally came up with the packet I sought. When it tore, the room filled with that telltale medicinal odor which foretold imminent gratification. I rose up and rolled it on, all the while feasting on the sight of Scarlet’s lush body stretched out beneath me. I’d done this a hundred times before, but never with such sweet anticipation. This girl, and this moment were both rare gifts.

  Trying to go slow, I stretched out over her. “You’re so beautiful,” I whispered, kissing her. But even to my own ears, the words didn’t measure up to the way I really felt. Every time she touched me, it felt as if she was saving me from something.

  I nudged her knees apart with my own. And that’s when I saw it — a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. And her body tensed.

  Lifting my head, I paused. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Perfectly,” she said. But her voice shook.

  I propped myself up on one elbow and teased a finger around her nipple. “Scarlet, don’t take this question the wrong way. But have you done this before?”

  Again she hesitated. And then, slowly, shook her head.

  “Christ,” I swore. And then we blinked at each other for a moment, before I swung myself up and off her, turn
ing to sit on the edge of the bed.

  A warm hand landed on my lower back. “Bridger…? What’s the matter?”

  There had been many moments in my life when Scarlet’s admission would not have even slowed me down. “Maybe we shouldn’t,” I said. God knows I wanted to. But for her, it wouldn’t just be sex. It would be a Big Deal. And I didn’t think my life could sustain any more drama. I was so tapped out. Which meant that I probably wasn’t thinking straight. And Scarlet deserved better than that.

  “Hang on.” She scrambled up to sit beside me. “I think… I just became another thing you have to take care of, didn’t I?”

  I dropped my head. Because she wasn’t far off the mark.

  “Bridge, I didn’t want to say anything, because I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

  “But what if it is a big deal?” I asked. Her first time shouldn’t be on a stranger’s bed, with a guy who’s life was circling the drain.

  “Why does it have to be? This was my choice. You asked very politely, and I said yes instead of no. And now you’re rejecting me.”

  “Damn.” I curled an arm around her back. “I’m not rejecting you. I could never reject you.” I rubbed the space between her shoulder blades. “It’s just that girls… some people think the first time is supposed to be… I don’t know. Important. But usually it’s just awful. Or maybe that’s just me and all my dopey friends.”

  The tension bubbled out of her then, in the form of a giggle. Her soft skin shook against me as she laughed. Her head landed on my shoulder, that soft hair torturing me again. “So what’s the solution? Because if you won’t be my awful first, then you can’t be my excellent second. And if by some miracle Harkness Basketball makes it into the NCAA tournament, we’ll be stuck watching whatever movie is on.”

  Smiling, I dropped my head into my hands. “Have you met our basketball team?”

  “Bridger,” she whispered, her fingers lightly stroking my hip. “We can talk about basketball if you want to. But…” Her hands wandered onto my groin, just like they did every night in my dreams.