Blitzed(15)

"And you?" I ask, not offended, but for some reason, I just want to know.

"I think . . . well, let me put it this way, and sorry if it takes a while. After f*cking up at practice so much today, I apologized to the guys for screwing up. I've never done that before, and like you said, I thought I'd get jeered for it. Instead, a couple of the guys really stuck up for me, and I thought a lot about what Coach keeps telling us. Own it. Own your f*ckups and your victories both. So I'm not going to lie. You're hot as hell, and you can't teach that. But talking with you now, I'd be lying if I said that all I wanted was to, as you said, get into your pants."

I laugh and put my hand on the side of his face, turning him to look at me. "Well, at least you're partially honest."

I kiss Troy, surprised by my forwardness, but I relish the feeling of his lips on mine, and even though I've only kissed a few boys before, I can't compare any of them to Troy. We don't rush, and there's nothing forced about the way we get closer and closer, his lips so amazing on my skin. He kisses to my neck, and I feel electricity in parts of my body that I'd never felt before with a guy, my whole body feeling tingly and almost humming. I realize now why Mom keeps warning me about guys. If Troy pushed right now, I'm not sure I'd be able or even willing to stop him, but he doesn't. Instead, he kisses back to my lips and I reach out with my tongue. Troy responds, and it's even more amazing than I'd ever imagined.

Troy breaks our kiss, and I know I've got a stupid, dreamy look on my face. I blink a few times, then smile. "Why'd you stop?"

Troy smiles back and strokes my hair with his hand. "Because if I keep going right this second, I'm worried that I won't hold back . . . and to be honest, Whitney, I want to hold back. You're . . . you're pretty special for some reason. I'd like to get to know why, or at least have a chance to know why."

"So you don't want to just pop my cherry and then run off?" I tease, and Troy's face drops in shock. "What? Yes, a girl can get to a month shy of her eighteenth birthday and still be a virgin, you know. Especially one who spent all of high school until the past two days overlooked."

"I shouldn't have overlooked you," Troy says, then laughs. "I guess I'm not as good a guy as I thought."

"You're a guy," I reply, leaning my head on his shoulder again. "Ruled by your penis, and just barely more evolved than your average chimp. I get it. Girls, we're not much better. You should have seen the nasty looks I've gotten over the past few days from some of the other girls on the cheer squad. As Dani puts it, bitches be hatin'."

Troy laughs and shifts his arm around so that he can hold me with his left arm. He reaches behind us and comes back with the box that my chicken sandwich is in. "Yeah, well, you can tell them that I'm not interested right now. Here, you don't want that to get cold."

We talk for another hour, occasionally turning or shift around on the rock to grab our food or just reposition ourselves until the sun goes all the way down. As I drink the last of the McFlurry—the rest of it had melted—I can't help but laugh. "You know, Troy, this isn't how I imagined our date would go."

"Neither did I," he says, running his fingers through my hair. "I know this might be a bit fast, but I was wondering if you'd like to go out again sometime?"

"What about Saturday?" I ask. "I'd say Friday, but Mom already told me she's taking me out for a celebration dinner for my making the cheer squad."

Troy laughs and nods. "But it has to be Saturday early afternoon. I uh, well, I've got a part-time job that takes up Saturday from four thirty until midnight. All day Sunday too."

"Oh? Where?"

“A pizza joint just outside town. Don't tell anyone that, please? State law says that I'm not supposed to be working that late while I'm in school. The owner doesn't know anything about football, and he thinks I graduated last year. I'm just glad I don't need to lie about my age anymore now that I'm eighteen."

I see the tremble in his jawline, and I nod. "That's fine, Troy. So I guess this means that we're not going to be going on a lot of typical dates during football season?"

Troy shakes his head, then shrugs. "Sorry. No Friday or Saturday nights at the movies. Best I can do is the occasional matinée."

I smile and lean in closer. "I think I can deal with that. On one condition."

His cocky little grin is back, playful and, if I can use that word, arousing. "What's that?"

"Another few of those amazing kisses?"

Troy keeps to my condition and is actually a gentleman, cleaning up our mess and walking with me back to the car. When he opens the door, I turn to him and take his hand. "Just a moment," I say, tugging on his arm.

Troy turns and give me a quizzical look. "What?"

In a move that I can't even believe I'm doing as I do it, I take his hand and lift it, putting it on my right breast, where by instinct, he cups it, sending shivers down my body and heat between my legs. I let him stroke with his thumb for a few seconds, then reluctantly, I lift his hand off, and it's my turn to kiss his knuckles. "There. You can tell your buddies you at least got to second base. I know they're going to bug you about it."