“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Just something I needed to do.” Our chairs are right up against each other and I shift in my seat so I can rest my head on his shoulder. The fire crackles and sparks in the darkness, and I try to let go of my concern for Tara and focus on this boy who’s holding my hand so firmly it’s like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.
The cautious side of me worries that we barely know each other and it doesn’t make sense to feel so much for him so quickly, but the other side—the side with Naomi’s voice and a long-dormant spontaneous streak—says to quit worrying and see where this goes.
But before I can do anything, Mr. Mauro rises from his chair and stands near the fire. “The eclipse starts in the morning, so we need to leave here by eight. Same drill as yesterday. Buddy system, don’t cause a ruckus, all that.” He drags a hand over the back of his bald head. “You all are adults and can take care of yourselves—theoretically—but there will be a lot of people watching this historical event and your safety is our priority.”
“And don’t forget your glasses!” Ms. Kim says, and the group laughs.
“We want you to have fun,” says Mr. Mauro. “But we also want you to be safe.” Then he gives a little salute and sits back down.
Without releasing Neb’s hand, I lean forward and kiss his cheek. Then his jaw. When my lips reach the soft skin near his ear, the woodsy scent coming from him clouds all rational thought.
“He’s watching us,” Neb whispers.
I start to pull away, but he catches the back of my head and captures my lips with his. The kiss is quick, and far too chaste, but it’ll have to do for now. He lets go of my hand and I sink into the canvas chair next to him. “How’s your book?”
The question falls flat between us, and he chuckles. “I don’t remember.”
A smile spreads over my face and I savor the feelings sweeping through me. Of hope. Contentment. And more than a little desire.
He leans toward me and whispers, “How long do we have to stay here?”
Naomi plops into the chair next to me. “Save it, lovebirds.”
We both straighten, and for the next two hours do our best not to touch each other. And fail miserably. When the trash from dinner has been cleared and the last streaks of the sunset fade over the campsite, Neb’s hand finds mine.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” I tell Naomi.
She smirks. “Sure you are.”
“Will you go with me?”
She rises without another word and follows me into the darkness away from the fire. When we reach a circle of light from a nearby camper, she stops. “I’m happy for you.”
The building anticipation for Neb slows to a simmer and my throat tightens, making it hard to speak. “I am too. Like ninety-eight percent. But I still can’t turn off that little niggle of doubt.”
She gives me a soft smile. “He seems like the real deal, Sage. So get out of there,” she taps the top of my head, “and have fun.”
“Are you telling me to sleep with him? Because I’m not—”
“You know I’m not the type to jump into a sleeping bag with a guy right away, but there’s a lot between kissing and sex.”
A thousand scenarios whip through my mind, all ending with Neb and me with much less clothing than I’m wearing now. My body warms and I hope it’s not obvious what I’m thinking. Even though she’s the one who put those thoughts there.
Gravel crunches behind us and Neb joins us in the light.
Naomi’s smirk returns. “You two are very subtle.”
I give her a quick hug. “Don’t wait up.” My heart pounds at the acknowledgement of what I’m planning, even if I don’t know exactly what I’m planning.
She kisses my cheek. “Be safe.”
“I’m not doing—”
“I’m just saying.” She lightly punches Neb’s arm. “I’ll kill you if you hurt her.”
“Noted.” His arm is already around my shoulders and my head falls against his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Naomi waves as she steps back into the darkness and we move in the opposite direction.
“Do you want to go for another walk?” I ask. Prolonging whatever’s going to happen in his tent sounds like torture, but I don’t want him to think—
“No.”
I look up at him. “No?”
“Unless you count the walk from here to my tent.” His fingers run through my hair, sending a shiver down my back and zapping all thoughts except him.
“Yeah, that works.”
We’re far enough from the fire that no one can see us, but I check over my shoulder a hundred times on the short walk to his tent. This time when he unzips the door I have no intention of turning him down. He steps inside, then holds out a hand, and when my palm touches his, it feels like a promise. Of tonight, or the future, or maybe just a promise to myself that the past is the past and I’m ready to move on and trust another guy.
To trust myself.
“I’m not turning on the lantern,” he says. “So it’s not obvious what we’re doing.”
My hand moves up his arm to his shoulder. He’s hunched over and his face is much closer to mine than I realized. “What are we doing?”
He stiffens as his hand covers mine and presses it to his chest. “I haven’t thought beyond this.” His lips find mine, pulling me into his orbit.
“This works,” I whisper against his mouth. His lips part, moving gently against mine, and I stretch my body along his. His heart hammers in his chest, even with the hoodie, and it feels like everything in me syncs with his heartbeat. When our tongues meet, I melt in his arms, completely lost in his world.
Until he breaks the kiss. “So… um. I’m not trying to push anything, but standing in this tent is killing my back.”
“And there’s nowhere to go except your bed.”
“Yeah.”
I trail kisses along his jaw and he inhales sharply. “I’m not ready for sex. But as Naomi so wisely pointed out, there’s a lot between kissing and sex.”
28
Neb
Her straightforwardness startles me, and I cough over her shoulder. “I suppose there is.” I dip my head lower to kiss her throat and her pulse flutters beneath my lips. We shuffle until our feet hit the edge of my air mattress, arms still around each other, but what could be awkward with anyone else feels completely natural. I sink to one knee, but forgot the basic law of air mattresses, which is if you don’t have a second body as a counterweight, you’ll hit the ground. Hard.
Pain shoots through my leg as my knee slams into the ground, and I suck in a breath.
“Ohmigod! Are you okay?” Sage runs her hand the length of my leg, distracting me from the throbbing in my kneecap. I flinch when she finds my knee. “You’re not okay.”
“I’ll be fine. Come here.” I sit on the edge and pull her next to me. With both of us seated, the mattress performs the way it’s supposed to. For a moment, I can’t believe I’m here in this tent with her, about to do something between kissing and sex. When we first started chatting she seemed cool, but I figured it was because I’d barely spoken to anyone since Dad died. Dating someone was the farthest thing from my mind. And while she’s the first one I’ve felt a connection to since moving in with Mom, I never imagined it would lead to this.
Okay, maybe I hoped. But hope doesn’t guarantee anything.
Her hand caresses my knee, her touch feather-light, but she doesn’t seem to realize what I’m thinking or what she’s doing to me. She’s gazing through the screen roof, her chin tilted in a way that exposes her throat. I lean forward to kiss her neck and her voice vibrates against my skin. “Even though we can’t see the new moon, it’s weird to think what a big role it’ll play in less than twelve hours.”
Something grips my heart. A pang of regret that Dad won’t be there with me. Won’t rattle off the percentages of coverage as they happen in real time. Won’t insist I use duct tape
to keep the flimsy paper glasses stuck to my face. Won’t howl at the moon when it reaches one hundred percent.
I tuck those thoughts away and lean back until my head hits my pillow. Sage crawls next to me, leaving no space between us. Her hand rests on my stomach, her focus still on the sky. “I can’t believe this is finally going to happen,” I say.
Her head pops up. “What?”
It takes a second too long for my words reach my brain. “I mean the eclipse!” I push onto an elbow and try to meet her eyes in the darkness. “Sorry. I swear that wasn’t a Freudian slip. I totally meant the moon.”
She laughs, resting her forehead on my chest. The scent of campfire lingers in her hair, reminding me of other times with other campfires, and I inhale deeply.
“I like you,” I say into the air, my eyes on the sky. “And your friends. I hope you know I’m not the type of guy who says whatever he can to get a girl in his sleeping bag.”
“I’m like ninety-five percent certain,” she whispers into my shirt.
“You can trust me.” Famous last words, but I really mean them. In the short time I’ve known Sage, it’s become clear that she has trust issues and I’m determined to prove to her that not all guys are out to hurt her.
“There’s something I should probably tell you.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
A dozen replies collide in my head. The biggest one is her telling me that no, she can’t trust me. “Okay.”
“I told you about my ex and how—” She takes a breath that expands her chest. “How he was really controlling. One of the super fun side effects of all that is now I get panic attacks. Although after talking to Tara and Ariana, the weight on my chest has been a little more manageable.”
I keep my hand on her side and wait for her to continue. My personal experience with anxiety is limited to the last couple months since Dad died. I’ve never had a panic attack, but I knew a couple kids back home who got them and they can be terrifying.
“They only seem to happen in crowds, although just thinking about a crowd sometimes sets me off.”
“Is that what happened at VooDoo?”
Her eyes widen in surprise, and she nods. “Naomi is really good at covering for me.”
“She’s a good friend.”
“The best.”
“Will you tell me if there’s any way I can help? Or if I’m doing something to make it worse?” One of the girls in my class hated being touched during a panic attack, and if that’s how Sage is, holding her close is the wrong way to help.
She nods, then takes another deep breath. “Do you miss your friends?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I do. Things were kind of a mess when my dad died. I moved within a week and didn’t really say goodbye to anyone.” Memories of camping with Yoshi and Rick tumble through my head. Of hiking in the state park outside the city and sleeping beneath the stars with nothing but a backpack and sleeping bag. And of Jennie. How she threw away what we had to be free for our last year of high school. She reached out after Dad died but his death didn’t leave room for anyone else in my heart.
“But you’ve talked to them since then.” It’s not a question, as if she couldn’t imagine cutting anyone out of her life.
“Yoshi and I text every day. I hear from the others every once in a while.”
They never gave up trying, but it hasn’t been the same. My words hang between us, the depressing reality of my life threatening to ruin whatever might happen.
“Do you think Yoshi will come visit?”
“I hope so.”
Her fingers trail lazy circles on my chest and she settles her head into the space between my shoulder and chest. “Explain how the eclipse works. I mean, I get that the moon passes between the sun and us and that’s why it blocks the light, but why is it so rare?”
I wrap my arm around her, holding her close to my side. The stars shine brightly from their spots in the sky, and I can’t help but wonder if somehow, somewhere, Dad is watching too. If he knows that I made it here without him. I have to swallow hard several times before clearing my throat.
“There are a lot of factors that have to happen for totality—the moment of the total eclipse. There needs to be a new moon. The positioning of the planets has to be just right to account for the difference in size of the moon and sun. As you know, the moon is significantly smaller than the sun but—”
“Because it’s so much closer, it looks the same size.”
“Exactly.”
“See, I paid attention in class.”
The smile that curls my mouth works its way to my heart.
“What else?” she asks.
“When the moon moves in front of the sun, you get that crescent shape. Once it completely covers it, people in the direct path experience the moon’s umbra.”
“Umbra.”
“Its shadow.”
“Why don’t they just call it a shadow?”
I shrug against her head. “Because then it wouldn’t be sciencey?”
“Roger that.”
“Once the umbra—the shadow—begins, the sun gives a diamond ring effect, which is basically a ring of light with one spot that’s more prominent. It’s bright like a diamond. And that’s when Baily’s beads appear.”
She snorts. “Now you’re making this up.”
I press a hand to my chest, covering hers. “Swear to god. Baily’s beads are little blobs of light around the perimeter of the sun that are caused by the variation in the moon’s terrain. Some people say they look like diamonds and they’re only visible for a few seconds before totality.”
“Which is the total eclipse.”
My pulse picks up. Talking about this stirs up the excitement I’ve carried for years. “And that’s when the real fun begins.”
“I love how much you love this,” she whispers against my chest, and I pull her tighter.
“During totality, the sun’s completely blocked and all you see is the outer atmosphere of the sun—the corona. It looks like it’s glowing. The sky is almost dark as night, the air gets cooler, and I’ve heard that wildlife goes silent.”
“They’re probably totality freaked out.”
This time I snort. “Totality lasts less than two minutes, and that’s actually the only time you can look at it without protective eyewear. But it’s such a small window that scientists don’t recommend it to the general public. Then the whole process goes in reverse.”
She’s so quiet I worry she’s bored, but her fingers never stop their exploration of my chest and stomach.
“Sorry, I know this is boring.”
“On the contrary, it’s fascinating. We all have our things we’re into, but you, like, know this stuff.” She stretches to kiss my jaw. “I think it’s cool.”
I shift to my side and press my forehead to hers for a beat before kissing her. I’ve never met anyone who seems to understand me the way she does, and my mind swirls with everything I want to do with her. Hiking, star gazing, all the cheesy stuff Jennie never cared about. Sage’s leg hooks over mine, pulling me against her, and I deepen the kiss. She tastes like marshmallows and chocolate, and I can’t get enough. I roll so my weight is on my elbows on either side of her face, my body hovering over hers. The kiss intensifies and it takes all my concentration to keep a sliver of space between us. But when her arms wrap around my back and pull my full weight onto her, I abandon all control. Whatever she wants, she can have.
Her fingers slide beneath my shirt, the cool touch a shock against my heated skin. “Sorry,” she whispers, but I kiss her harder. Encouraged, she explores my back, gripping me tighter. When her legs part, I settle against her, knowing she’ll realize how turned on I am. We move against each other, hands everywhere, mouths colliding, wanting more. My mouth drops to her neck and she tugs her shirt over her belly, inviting me closer. Her skin is soft beneath my hand, and I graze over her ribs until I reach her bra. Despite her confidence earlier and the way she’s grinding against me, I don’t
know how far she actually wants to go, and I pause.
“What’s the matter?” she asks.
I can barely see her eyes in the darkness, but my other senses have heightened, making my every atom aware of her. Her breath, the way her heart pounds against my chest, the feeling of her legs holding me in place. “I don’t want to push too far.” My voice comes out deeper than usual, and I can’t help but trail more kisses over her collarbone.
“My bra isn’t too far.” To prove her point, she arches against me and contorts her arms beneath her. A moment later, her arms are back around me. “All set.”
I move my hand gently over her skin and beneath the bra she unfastened. She sighs into my hair before gripping the sides of my head and pulling my face to hers. Emboldened, I press my full weight into her. A moan escapes me and I get lost in the sensation of her body, her skin, the noises she makes when my hands move beneath her shirt. But when she starts to pull my shirt over my head, I stop her.
“I really, really want this,” I say. “Like really.”
“Me too.” Her voice is a breathless whisper.
“I don’t want to rush this or make you regret anything.”
She rests her hand against my face. “How could I regret you?” I turn my face to kiss her palm and she lifts her hips to meet mine. With a couple tugs, she pulls my sweatshirt and T-shirt over my shoulders, taking my pendant with them. I yank them over my head in one motion and toss them onto the floor. The cool night air sweeps down my bare back, quickly replaced by her warm hands. Her shirt is lifted high enough that our bare bellies connect, and I’m filled with a desire so intense I have to fight to stay in control. My hard-on strains against my jeans, against her. Her tongue burns a trail across my shoulder to my chest and I dip my head to connect with her mouth, then lower. Just as my lips find the smooth skin above her jeans, voices outside makes us freeze.
I don’t recognize the voices, but they seem to be walking toward us. I cover Sage’s body with mine and whisper in her ear. “Are they with our group?”
Chasing the Sun Page 18