The Absence of Olivia(22)
“Great.”
Then we were drenched in silence. Uncomfortable silence. Luckily, Jax and Ruby chose that moment to reappear and the room was filled with the noises of children welcoming their father home. After a few moments, Devon ended up on the couch in the family room, Ruby on his right and Jaxy on his knee, listening to stories of disfigured mummies and super-secret ice cream cones.
I grabbed my purse and slowly snuck out of the house, glad to see the three of them thriving, but also grateful to have some time to myself to lick my wounds.
Chapter Seven
Summer between Freshman
and Sophomore Year
I tried to ignore the butterflies swarming in my stomach. I wanted to look like the cool, calm, and collected person I wished I was, but I probably resembled the bumbling fool I felt like. I was about to leave my house, with a boy, to stay for the weekend in a cabin. The whole weekend. With a boy. Well, a guy.
Elliot had told me his parents had a cabin near the mountain and said we should go there for a weekend sometime. I said, ‘sounds like fun.’ The next thing I knew, he was making plans for us. Us. I was still surprised there was an us. School had been over for a month, and true to his word, he’d driven to my town to see me twice, both times making it seem like the nearly four-hour trip was no big deal. I knew it was. I felt it. And although I appreciated that he wanted to see me and had driven all that way to do so, it was a lot of pressure. Pressure I’d never really dealt with before.
I saw his red pickup truck turn the corner onto my street and the butterflies not only multiplied, but they grew larger. I was trying to convince myself I wasn’t going to throw up.
The two times he’d come to visit, he’d been a perfect gentleman. He’d shown up, taken me out, done everything by the book: insisted on paying, pulled out my chair for me, made sure we had my favorite snack at the movies. Perfect. He held my hand, and I felt the tingles. Those telltale shivers, which only came on when special people showed you affection. I wanted to hold his hand, and when he brought me home, I’d purposefully instructed him to park down the block from my house so my parents couldn’t spy on us.
His kisses were incredible. He tasted like summer, sunshine, and spearmint. He’d pulled me to his side of the bench in the cab of his truck and kissed me until I was breathless. Kissed me on the lips, on the neck, on the shoulder, but never pressured me for anything more. I knew he’d wanted to take things further, but he was letting me lead, and I appreciated that more than I could ever tell him.
Now, I was to spend an entire weekend with him. Surely, something would happen between us. I just wasn’t sure I was ready for it. I wasn’t normally a nail biter, but I’d chewed my nails to the quick just thinking about how I would tell him I wasn’t ready to sleep with him.
From my bedroom window on the second floor, I watched him park his truck and then walk to my front door. He was wearing khaki cargo shorts and a blue cotton t-shirt that only made his blond hair look more sun-streaked. He reached forward and I heard my doorbell ring. This was it. I walked as smoothly as I could down the stairs, not wanting to appear at the door too soon and seem too eager. I didn’t want him to think I’d been sitting in my bedroom waiting for him.
I opened the door and his smile assaulted me, left me feeling a bit like Jell-O.
“Hey, babe,” he said as he stepped into my house and gave me a chaste kiss on the mouth. Apparently, I’d been upgraded to a pet name. “Are your parents home? I wouldn’t mind saying hello.”
“Uh, no. They have a dinner thing they do once a week with their friends. Kind of like a kid-free, we-want-to-pretend-like-we’re-teenagers-again thing. It’s a little pathetic. They drink and then my mom usually falls on her way up the stairs, giggling loudly then shushing my dad. Then I have to pretend like I don’t hear them.”
He laughed at my description. “Oh, okay. Maybe when I drop you off then.”
I was a little suspicious that he was so concerned with wanting to see my parents, but I chalked it up to his reputation of perfection. Perfect boyfriends would have a good relationship with parents. But he wasn’t my boyfriend, was he?
“Are you my boyfriend?” I spat out before my mind had even processed the words.
He laughed again, louder this time, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me toward him. “We haven’t really talked about it,” he said, leaning down so our eyes were level. “Do you want me to be your boyfriend?”
I thought about his question. Did I want him to be my boyfriend? I wasn’t sure. I had boyfriends in the past, and they’d only turned out to be disasters. Possessive and overbearing. But nothing about Elliot made me feel like he could be possessive or overbearing if he tried. I felt like if Elliot were my boyfriend, he’d only be sweet and attentive, chivalrous, playful. I also thought he’d kiss me a lot, which I wasn’t opposed to – he was an excellent kisser.
“I’m not opposed to you being my boyfriend.”
“Well, that’s a convincing response.” His words indicated I might have hurt his feelings, but his face was still smiling, those damned blue eyes sparkling. He leaned forward again and pressed his lips to mine. This time, the kiss wasn’t chaste. It was hot. And wet. His eager tongue barged into my mouth, took control, tasted every part of me, and left me panting when he pulled away. “Tell you what. You hang on to your answer for now. When I drop you off on Sunday, I’ll ask you again, and maybe you’ll have a more convincing answer.”