Interim(95)

He pointed to the ceiling. She looked up.

“I live in the apartment upstairs. Roy’s renting it to me.”

“Wow, I wish I had my own place,” Regan replied.

“No, you don’t.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad to be out of my dad’s house, but it’s lonely sometimes. And I don’t really know how to cook all that well. Kind of feel like a kid forced to grow up real fast.”

“But you are a kid forced to grow up really fast,” Regan pointed out.

Jeremy bristled. “I’m nineteen.”

“Big deal,” Regan replied, and he laughed. She eyed him curiously. “You wanna learn how to cook?”

“Maybe.”

“You want me to teach you?” she asked.

“Up there?”

She nodded. “Mom says I can’t cook to save my life, but I know how to make the essentials.”

“Like?”

“Brownies. Cupcakes. Mac ‘n cheese. Cereal.”

He laughed. “I have the mac ‘n cheese and cereal under control.”

“Well, what about the baked goods? All right, so I can’t cook, but I sure as hell can bake. Would you like to bake together?” she asked.

“Well, I’m not allowed to have girls in the apartment,” he said, then rolled his eyes. So so stupid.

“But you’re a man,” she argued. “You’re nineteen.”

Jeremy snorted. “Yeah, well, Roy doesn’t see it that way. I guess he doesn’t want me having too much fun.”

Regan chuckled.

“You can come visit me there anyway,” he said after a moment. “We’re not teenagers if we’re not doing something wrong.”

Her giggles turned to full-on laughter. She glimpsed the large clock above the garage doors and sighed, hopping off the counter.

“Man, I gotta go.”

Jeremy nodded.

Regan picked up her bags and slung them over her shoulder. She turned to face Jeremy a last time.

“I shouldn’t have wanted to go fast,” she said. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

“It didn’t,” he replied.

“I’m not a ho,” she clarified.

“Never thought that.”

She considered him. “It’s just, I’ve done some things.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Apparently not very well,” she added.

He frowned in confusion.

“Oh, please,” she said, looking at him dead on. “Like you didn’t hear the rumors.”

“Rumors are rumors.”

“Rumors are hurtful.” She eyed him expectantly.

He knew her unspoken question.

“Don’t ask me if you’re a good kisser. I’ll be offended.”

“Why?”

“Because you kissing me has nothing to do with that guy and his stupid rumors,” Jeremy replied.

Regan nodded.

“But if you must know,” he whispered, averting his eyes, “it was f*cking awesome.”

She smiled. “I . . . I really don’t move fast. I mean, it’s weird that I acted like that. I got really excited. You made me feel things I’ve never felt. Is that cheesy?”

He shook his head.

“Yes, it is,” she mumbled. “So freaking cheesy. But whatever. It’s true.”

Silence.

“When you’ve gone so many years wanting something, and then you finally get it, sometimes you don’t react appropriately. The feelings are too intense. You don’t know how to handle them. Like being in a manic state, I guess. Out of your mind. That’s how I felt when you kissed me.”

His heart warmed—heat building slowly at the base and curling its way up and around the chamber walls.

“And I wanted to feel everything at once. And give you everything. And take from you.” She paused. “And now I know why people have sex two seconds after meeting each other. If they’re insanely attracted to each other, that is.”

He laughed.

“Now multiply that times ten trillion, because I didn’t just meet you. I’ve known you forever. So the build-up . . .” Her words disappeared into the damp space of the garage.

He nodded. Girls were so much better with their words. Everything she said he felt but could never voice. He was glad she could. She could speak for the both of them.