This Is Falling(52)

“I know, but I just got you home. I don’t want to spend tonight watching you lose your onion burger in the dorm bathrooms,” he says, his eyes lowering to look at my lips. His breathing changes, and when his teeth tug lightly at his bottom lip, I can’t seem to stop myself from leaning in to kiss him, completely forgetting the fact that three other girls are out here with us.

As soon as my lips hit his, I’m sunk, and when his hands reach for my face, I move to my knees, sliding one leg over him so I’m straddling his lap, our lips never breaking. He sits up taller when I do this, letting his hands trail down my shoulders and arms, reaching around my waist to the back pockets of my shorts, pulling me to him even tighter.

This is desire. I have had sex exactly once in my life, and it was awkward and uncomfortable, just like a teenager’s first time should be. But that was planned and orchestrated and coordinated to go along with Josh’s parents’ work schedules. Everything running through my mind right now is impulsive, and there’s a part of me, a raw and hungry urge, that wants Nate completely.

“Good god, get a room!” Paige’s voice breaks through our kiss, and Nate pulls his lips from mine, his eyes focusing on nothing but my eyes and mouth.

“That’s probably a good idea. Ladies, I trust you can find your way home,” Nate says, standing with me wrapped around the front of his body, and quickly moving his lips back to mine. He carries me that way all the way to the ball-field gate while Paige whistles behind us. “If Ty is in my room, I am kicking him out,” he says, his voice almost a deep growl in my ear.

“If Ty is in your room, I will kick him out,” I say, moving my hands to his face and continuing our kiss once again. Nate carries me all the way to the main road across the street from our dorm building, and then he lets my body slowly slide from his until my feet touch the ground. His grip on my hand is tight, and I can feel my heartbeat in every inch of my body, the thump-thump growing faster and stronger the closer we get to Nate’s room.

Thankfully, there’s no need to kick Ty out when we get there, and Nate pushes the door closed behind us seconds after we enter, locking it before coming back to me. I tug at the long-sleeved hooded T-shirt he was wearing, and he helps me bring it over his head, quick to find my lips again once it’s off. He’s backing me toward his bed, and we’re both working to kick our shoes off, tripping over one another and laughing when our feet get tangled.

Once I feel the back of my legs rest along the edge of his mattress, I sit back, my hands resting on either side of me, waiting for Nate to push me completely on my back. But when he reaches over and presses the switch on his desk lamp, my body drains of every feeling, and panic replaces it.

“Don’t turn the light on,” I say, my voice breaking while I struggle not to completely succumb to the tears I feel just under the surface. “I…I don’t want you to see me.”





Nate





Her voice is f*cking heartbreaking, and it stops me cold. She’s the single most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and the thought of touching her like this and not being able to see her—not just her body, but to see her face, her lips, her eyes flutter closed—is torture. But the way she asks, begs me to keep us in the dark, is about something bigger.

“You’re beautiful,” I say, stepping back enough to let my fingers graze along her cheek and chin. She leans into my palm, her head heavy as she closes her eyes.

“No, I’m not,” she says, moving back in my bed until her back is against the wall. She draws her knees into her body and brings her hands to her face next, then begins to cry.

I hate that she thinks this about herself, and I hate that she lost two years of her life to fear and obligation. But she has to understand how beautiful she is. I crawl up next to her and pull her into my lap, locking my arms around her so she has nowhere to go, and she melts into me.

This…this is what I meant when I said “I’ll wait.” I don’t need all of her, not all at once. I am willing to wait for whatever pieces she’s willing to give. And if I have to help her make each piece whole first, then so be it.

I wait. I wait while she slows her breathing down and stops her eyes from watering. I wait while she chews at the edges of her fingernails, her eyes entranced into nothingness while her mind sorts out whatever roadblock is standing in her way. I wait for her to finally look at me, breathe deeply, and tell me her secrets. And I would wait forever. But I don’t have to tonight, because she’s looking at me, trembling, but ready to face her demons.

“My body…” she starts, but pauses, moving from my arms to sit in front of me, facing me. “I live with this constant reminder of what happened. It’s…it’s why I don’t shower when everybody else does. It’s why I wear clothing that covers me just enough. And even when they’re covered…I know they’re there. I can feel them.”

She’s hugging herself again, and I’m starting to understand that this isn’t just something she does when she’s nervous. It’s something she does to remind herself of that day, of Josh—to punish herself when she feels guilty for forgetting.

“Show me,” I say, my voice almost a whisper as I keep my eyes to hers, willing her to trust me, to love me.

“You’ll think I’m ugly,” she says, the tears once again threatening to come.