by Jen McConnel
“I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m an arse. You’re probably still mad about dinner.”
“A little bit,” I admitted, “but that’s not all.”
He looked at me, his eyes wide with concern. “What did I do?”
I pulled my knees up to my chest, tugging the blanket up under my chin. “This actually has nothing to do with you. I, um,” I swallowed, trying to figure out how to tell him. “I’ve never actually . . .”
I trailed off and realization dawned on his face. “Oh, Sarah.” He bit his lip. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
That was the problem; I wanted to do everything. Being this close to Carson, who was shirtless, sitting there casually in his boxers, was igniting fires I didn’t know I had inside me. I wanted to lean forward and press my lips to his, to feel the warmth of his body against my skin, to let him explore me with his long, slender hands. But as much as I wanted it, I was terrified, too. I coughed. “Maybe you could just hold me, to start?”
Carson smiled. “I’d love to hold you.” He lay down on his side and lifted up the blanket, inviting me to scoot closer.
Tentatively, I slid toward him. He rested his hand on my hip, and our noses were almost touching. I inhaled sharply, and he stroked the waistband of my shorts.
“It’s okay. Trust me, Sarah.”
I kissed him gently. “I want to.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m cold, I guess.” I wasn’t cold; I was burning up.
Carson nuzzled my neck. “Turn over.”
“What?”
“Roll over. Onto your other side.”
Hesitantly, I flipped over, and then I felt Carson slide his body behind me. His knees tucked behind my knees, and his chin rested on my shoulder. He was warm and comforting and oh so sexy.
His arm snaked around my waist, embracing me from behind, and I melted into him. After a few moments of sweet stillness, his fingers began dancing up and down my body, and I lit up in his arms.
~
I woke up feeling refreshed and energetic the next morning, and I rolled over to watch Carson sleeping. He smiled gently but didn’t open his eyes.
“Happy birthday,” he murmured.
I leaned forward and kissed his eyelid. “Thank you. So far, it’s the best birthday ever.”
He cracked one eye open. “I’m glad.” He closed his eye again, and I laughed.
I studied his face. “You can’t possibly be tired.” Even though we hadn’t had sex, we’d explored each other for hours, but instead of making me sleepy, Carson’s touch seemed better than coffee.
Carson groaned. “Sarah, you are maddening. Of course I’m tired; you wore me out, woman!”
I sat up, grinning. “Well, good. You need more of that in your life.”
He reached for me and pulled me back to the bed. “I need more of you in my life.”
“Right now, we need breakfast.” I tried to pull away from him, but he lunged at me with surprising energy considering he’d been playing dead the moment before, and he started to tickle me. I writhed on the bed, laughing until tears pricked my eyes, but he kept me pinned down, one hand trapping my wrists above my head, the other mercilessly tickling my sides. Carson was on top of me, his breathing ragged, and I was flat on the bed, staring up at him. Our eyes locked, and we both froze. I felt the weight of him shift a little against me as he gently lowered his body down, and my lower body tingled at the sensation.
“Carson,” I whispered, not sure what I was asking.
He moved his hips against me, deliberately, and I sucked in my breath. Before I could speak or react, Carson kissed me, and need for him overwhelmed me.
This time, we didn’t stop. I don’t think we could have even if we’d wanted to, and I didn’t want to. Not even a little bit.
Chapter Eighteen
Even though I just wanted to stay in bed and lie against Carson, my stomach had other ideas. Carson laughed and kissed the tip of my nose after a particularly embarrassing growl.
“It’s no wonder you’re hungry. That was quite a workout, Sarah.”
I flushed and tried to look away, my old self-consciousness creeping back in. My eyes landed on the empty condom wrapper on the nightstand, and I bit my lip.
Carson cupped my face in his hands. “Sarah, look at me.”
Finally, I did. His intense blue eyes studied me, and I noticed that he had little flecks of green near the pupil. How had I not seen that before?
“Sarah,” Carson whispered. “You’re blinding. That was amazing. You know that, right?”
After a moment, I nodded. “It was better than I expected.”
He chuckled. “I won’t take offense at that.”
Before I could explain what I meant, he kissed me. Even our kisses felt different now; warmer and more intimate. I kissed him back, my self-consciousness slipping away. Finally, Carson pulled back, breathing heavily.
“If we don’t get up right now, I’m afraid I won’t let you leave this bed, Sarah.”
I grinned at him. “If I weren’t so hungry, I don’t think I’d complain.”
We dressed hurriedly; I dug through my bag, searching for a cute top, but I didn’t bother with my hair, just pulled it back in a messy bun. I hoped it looked as sexy as I felt; Carson certainly looked even more gorgeous in the morning light than he had before. His jeans hung low on his hips, and even in a ratty old concert T-shirt, he looked ready to walk a catwalk.
Carson tucked his hand casually in my back pocket as we walked out of the hotel, and I leaned against him. It felt right to try to be as close as possible, especially after what we’d shared in bed that morning. The fiasco from last night’s dinner had been totally pushed from my mind, but I remembered when we stopped at a corner bakery and Carson shot me an apologetic look when the woman rang up our order.
“Oh! Of course.” I dug out my cash and paid for our pastries, but then I frowned. “I’ll need to switch some more of my money over from my bag when we go back to the room. I’m just about out of cash.”
“I’m so, so sorry, Sarah.” He hung his head, but I reached up and ran my hand through his hair.
“Don’t apologize. For anything. I’m still having the best birthday ever.”
Carson smiled slowly. “I’m glad.”
“Now,” I grinned, shoving the rest of my pastry in my mouth and chewing quickly, “show me Amsterdam.”
~
We were exhausted by the time we finally made it back to the hotel. We’d spent a full day exploring the city, wandering through museums and stealing kisses in beautiful parks filled with rainbows of flowers, gently trickling fountains, and ancient, shady trees. Carson had pointed out the famous Red Light District, but I hadn’t been feeling that adventurous, so we’d skirted around it, window-shopping in a ritzy part of town instead.
We’d grabbed tofu dogs from a street vendor and munched on the way back to the hotel, and when Carson kissed me on the bridge, I tasted ketchup and onions. Nothing could have been more romantic.
He started nuzzling my neck as I fumbled with the key to the room, and I pushed him away playfully. “Let me get the door open first!”
He chuckled. “I’d have you right here in the hallway if I thought you’d say yes.”
The idea was surprisingly erotic, but I shook my head, my skin heating up. “Just wait a second.”
The key finally worked, and we stepped into the dark hotel room. I flicked on the light by the door, taking my purse off, but Carson turned the light off again.
“Carson, I can’t see.”
“You don’t need to see.”
I giggled. “I just want to get more money before I forget.”
After a moment, he flipped the light on. “Fine,” Carson moaned, “I’ll be in the bathroom. Brushing my teeth and drowning in my sorrows.”
I laughed. “Maybe you should take a cold shower, too.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you should join me.”
My skin tingled at the suggestion. “Maybe I will.”
He stood in the doorway to the bathroom expectantly, but I waved him inside. With a dramatic sigh, he shut the bathroom door. In a moment, I heard the water rushing into the tub. What would it be like to shower with him?
Business before pleasure, I reminded myself. The hot dogs had totally exhausted my supply of cash, and I didn’t want to forget to restock my wallet before we went out again. I dug my hands into my bag, searching for the thick sock. I pulled out a couple of pairs, but the money wasn’t inside either of them.
Sighing, I dumped my bag onto the bed, sifting through the clothes. Nothing. I picked up each shirt and shook it carefully, but there was no sign of the sock. Or the cash. Panicked, I dug through the pile of clothes again, and a terrible suspicion dawned on me.
Nervous, I glanced at the closed bathroom door. I could still hear the water running, but now I didn’t feel like taking a shower.
Before I jumped to any conclusions, I looked through the clothes on the bed one more time, but I came up empty handed. Anger bubbled up in my chest, and I stalked across the room to knock on the bathroom door.
“I’m waiting for you!” Carson called out playfully.
I poked my head around the door. “Did you take my money?”
His wet arm reached around the shower curtain, pulling it back so he could look at me. “What are you talking about?”
I ground my teeth. “The extra cash I had in my bag. Did you take it?”
“Why would I take your money, Sarah?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you maxed out your credit card the other night!”
He shook his head, dumbfounded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“But the money is gone. Explain that!”
“Sarah, that sucks, but I didn’t take your money.”
Tears built in my eyes, but I clenched my jaw. “Then where is it?”
“I don’t know. You had trouble with the key; do you think someone broke into the room?”
I snorted in disbelief. “Right, and they knew exactly which sock I’d hidden my money in. Nothing is disturbed or missing; just the money.”
Carson spread his hands wide. “I didn’t take it. We’ll figure this out.”
I glared at him, and the hazy glow I’d felt all day collapsed. “I don’t believe you.”
He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, and I looked away quickly. “Sarah, trust me. We’ll find it!”
“I can’t believe I’ve been such an idiot!” I whirled around, letting the bathroom door slam shut behind me, and in a moment, Carson came into the room, the towel wrapped around his waist.
“Sarah, listen to me. Where did you last see the money?”
“You know damn well where I last had it! I told you about it at lunch the other day!” I couldn’t keep my tears back, and they streamed down my face. “Please, give me my money back.”
Carson stepped forward, reaching for me, but I backed away. “I don’t have it.”
I sniffed. “I think you do.”
He dropped his hands, defeated. “Sarah, I would never steal from you.”
“Then where is it?”
“I don’t know, but we can figure this out. We should go to the police.”
I hiccupped. “Think about it, Carson. They’re going to come to the same conclusion I did. Do you really want to turn yourself over to the cops?”
“But I didn’t do anything.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Carson stared at me. “Doesn’t this morning mean anything to you?”
My cheeks heated up. “That has nothing to do with this.”
Carson shook his head, his jaw tight. “You know what I think? I think you’re scared. I think you’re scared of how you feel about me, and you’re looking for an excuse to push me away, but it won’t work, Sarah. I didn’t take your money.”
I glared at him for a moment, and then I sniffed and wiped my face. “I think you should leave.”
“What?”
“Go. I want you to go now. If you’ve got the money, enjoy it. I’m sure you and your buddies back in London will get a kick out of spending it, especially when you tell them about the fat American girl who fell for you.”
“Sarah, I—”
I turned around, digging my fingernails into my palms. “Good-bye, Carson.”
The room was silent for a moment. Then I heard him shuffling around, pulling on his clothes and picking up his bag. I kept my back to the room, staring at a dent on the wall and trying to get a grip on my emotions.
“I think you’re making a mistake. But if you don’t trust me, there’s no point in my staying.” He paused, like he was waiting for me to change my mind, but I didn’t look at him. I heard the door open. “Good-bye, then.”
I didn’t turn around until the door clicked shut behind him, and then I forced myself to look around the empty room slowly. My instincts were screaming at me to run down the hall and stop him, but I couldn’t ignore the facts. The money was gone, and no one but Carson could have known where it was.
Exhausted, I flopped onto the bed, not caring that I landed on my clothes that were still strewn about. The pillows still smelled like Carson, and I started crying again, remembering everything we’d done in that bed. “God, how could you be so stupid?” I punched one of the pillows in frustration, and then I did it again.
When I couldn’t cry anymore, I sat up and looked around the room. I didn’t want to stay here another minute, not with all the memories of Carson lingering in the air like sexy ghosts. I shoved my clothes back in my bag, thankful that I still had the money that Mrs. Johnson had deposited to my bank account. My brain clicked into planning mode as I repacked, leaving me blissfully numb. But then something scratched the back of my hand and I paused.
Looking into the bag, I finally spotted a jagged tear in the synthetic lining. My stomach dropped out of my body as I reached my hand toward the rip. I looked at the outside of the bag, but the hole didn’t go all the way through. Swallowing nervously, I rooted around underneath the lining, and then my fingers closed on a thick ball of fabric. I gulped, pulling it into the light.
It was a bulky sock. I stared at it in disbelief, and then, almost afraid, I looked inside. There was a familiar wad of cash tucked in the toe of the sock, and suddenly, I realized what I had done. “Oh shit!” I pulled out my phone to call Carson, and then I stopped, dumbfounded.
I didn’t have his number.
I sank down on the edge of the bed and shook my head. I’d lost my virginity to the guy, but other than stalking him back to his job, I had no way to get ahold of him. I didn’t even have the return ticket to London, I realized; Carson had booked the trip, and he hadn’t told me when we were going back.
The magnitude of everything crashed into me, and I crumpled, burying my face in my hands. “That’s just like you, to fuck everything up!” I heard my dad’s voice in my own words, and I shuddered, realizing that he’d always been right; I was a worthless idiot.
Just then, my phone buzzed. I stared at it for a moment, and my hand was shaking when I answered it. Had Carson figured out a way to contact me?
“I am so, so sorry.” I spoke as soon as the phone was next to my face.
There was silence on the line. Finally, a familiar voice said, “For what?”
My heart sank. “Joelle?”
“Yeah. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. How’s Amsterdam?”
I fought back tears. “Not what I expected.”
She paused. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “No. I just fucked up royally.”
“Are you alone?”
After a beat, I sighed. “I am now.”
“Sarah, my offer still stands. Come traveling with me.”
Listless, I stared around the small hotel room. “What would we do?”
“See the world. And try not to get our hearts broken again in the process.”
I glanced at the phone in surprise. “Who broke your heart?”
“Hypothetically, I mean. What do you say?”
I hesitated, but then I wiped my tears away. “I guess I don’t have anything to lose.”
“Awesome! Want me to meet you in Amsterdam?”
“I guess.” I paused. “But can you hurry? I don’t really want to stay here any longer.”
“Understood. Why don’t you meet me at the airport, and we’ll figure out where to go from there? I should be able to get a flight tonight.”
“Seriously? But it’s so late.”
“So?” I could almost hear her shrug over the phone. “That’s what friends do.”
~
The first thing I did after we hung up was empty out my suitcase. Then, I took some of my cash and headed out to the street. I stopped at the first sporting-goods shop I found (there seemed to be a surprising number of them scattered around Amsterdam), and I bought a brand-new hiking backpack. It would have been nice to burn the stupid suitcase with its torn lining, but I settled for throwing it into a Dumpster behind the hostel after I’d packed my new bag. No more feeling not good enough, I promised myself. No more letting someone else build me up and tear me down. No more screwing up.
I was ready for a fresh start.
From: JoJotheGreat
To: Private Charlie Viegas
Subject: Jerk
Seriously, dude, you get engaged without telling me?? And why haven’t you replied to any of my e-mails? Mom was flipping out—probably still is—but thankfully, I’m not home right now. Surprise! I’m already in Berlin.
No, I’m kidding. But I am in Europe; Pops somehow convinced Mom to let me backpack around for a couple of weeks before we all converge on Germany. I spent some time in London, and like two seconds in Amsterdam, and now I’m just about to hit the streets of Paris with my new friend, Sarah. Why didn’t you tell me how completely awesome Europe is?
Anyway, I just wanted to give you one more heads-up that we’re all heading to Berlin in a few days; Mom and Pops booked tickets to land at the end of the week, even though there are still a few weeks until the big day. I tried to warn you, but if you can’t even reply to the other e-mails I’ve sent, you deserve whatever crazy is about to descend into your life.
