by RH Tucker
You know what, screw this. Cindy’s right, I’m in college. I may be a virgin, but there’s no reason to not just have fun. He’s already said my weight isn’t an issue. He wouldn’t be lying, would he? Would he want to make out with me? Thinking about a possible make out session reminds me of his lips just a little bit ago. I want to taste them again. I try to gather as much confidence as I can, channeling my inner Cindy.
“How about something else?” I whisper.
“Okay.” He nods. “What other show—”
“Micah?”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
That’s not the reply I was looking for. I feel my confidence dwindling. How does Cindy make this look so easy?
“Kiss me,” I repeat, hanging on to whatever little confidence I have left.
He leans closer and our noses touch. Raising a hand to my cheek, I feel his lips skim across mine. His hand slides from my face to my arm and then to my waist, his eyes still locked on mine. His face is as close as he can get without kissing me, but he leans his body closer. His hand moves around my curves, and my hand reaches up to his face. Then his lips connect with mine and the electricity returns.
The same feeling from earlier rushes through me. His tongue sweeps over my bottom lip, and I finally get to run my fingers through his hair, which sends waves of excitement through me. His hands brush along my waist, his fingers skirting under the hem of my shirt. He shifts closer, and I sink a little lower in his bed.
Wait. We’re in his bed. I’m in his bed.
Uh oh.
I feel stupid for not thinking ahead of time. How do you ask a guy to make out with you when you’re laying in his bed and not expect him to not want to take it further? But I have to tell him. I have to let him know I just want to make out. I just want his lips on mine, and I don’t want to take it further, at least not tonight. Because if he expects me to, then what? As much as Project V is a joke, it’s not like I don’t want to have sex. But as hot as Micah is, I don’t want to be a one-night stand or a rebound.
“Wait, wait.” I feel the embarrassment creeping up and try to ready myself for his look of annoyance that will no doubt come from my next words.
“What?”
“I’m sorry. I just …” Biting my lip, I avert my eyes. “I just don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m so stupid.”
Bringing a hand to my chin, he tilts my face so my gaze meets his. “Hey, don’t say that. What’s wrong?”
I give an incredulous laugh at myself. “I want you to kiss me. I want to make out with you. But that’s all.”
“Okay.” He nods.
“Okay?” I look at him, confused.
He lets out a laugh, squinting. “Veronica, what guy is going to say no to making out with a cute girl in his bed?”
Drop it, Veronica. Just take what he’s giving you and get on with the making out. But I can’t. I dig my hole deeper. “You mean, you don’t mind if we don’t … have sex?”
“Wow.” He sits up straighter. “That’s messed up. Sex is off the table, so you think I’d just avoid kissing. How little you think of me.”
“Oh, no!” I sit up. I’ve ruined everything now. “Micah, that’s not what I meant. I’m just surprised. You know guys are—”
“Dang, and then you just lump me in with other guys.”
He folds his arms across his chest, looking away. Thoroughly embarrassed, I get up from the bed, grabbing my shoes off the floor and head to the door. I don’t even try to put them back on. I’ll just walk out, text Cindy, and let her laugh at me while I relate this entire stupid experience on my way home.
“What are you doing?” he asks as I approach the door.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not having it in me to turn and face him. “I’m so dumb. I just didn’t want to lead you on.”
“You didn’t. So …” He lets the word hang in the air, and I wait for more, but he says nothing. I finally turn around, and he has a huge grin, his hands behind his head. “We still gonna make out or what?”
My jaw drops. “You jerk!” I laugh as I run at him, landing on top of him.
“Sorry,” he laughs, bringing a hand up to my cheek as I straddle him. “Also,” he wraps his arms around me, his hands cupping my butt, “I kind of only gave you a half-truth earlier.”
I tilt my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“When I said you’re beautiful. I mean, you are, but that was only half of it.” He starts kissing my neck, down one side, around and up the other side.
“Okay,” I answer, shuddering as his mouth runs over my skin.
“I also think you’re incredibly sexy.”
My family has called me pretty, but they’re my family. My friends tell me I’m beautiful, but they’re my friends. I’ve had two boyfriends my entire life, one freshman year of high school, so we didn’t do much except kiss a few times and hold hands. Nothing too sexy about that. Tim was my boyfriend during senior year, and he should’ve been the one—of anyone—to call me that. But he never did. I thought I could be, but when I caught Tim cheating on me, I figured that must’ve been it. Or at least, one of the reasons he cheated on me. I wasn’t sexy enough.
But here I am with someone I inexplicably feel more comfortable within a few hours of talking than I did with three months of actively dating Tim. And with his hands on me, his tongue sliding over my lips again and meeting mine, I can’t control the moan I let out of how good it feels in his arms.
We made out for a while, and I totally expected Micah to try and escalate things. I don’t know how I would’ve responded to his requests, but he never made any. He did try to snake his hands under my shirt, but my self-conscious brain went into overdrive, and I immediately pulled his hands away, keeping them on the outside.
After the make out session ended, I was going to text Cindy, but Micah offered to watch some more New Girl. So we did, and I’m not sure when, but I fall asleep.
Waking up the next morning is strange. I know I’m in his room still, but a pang of anxiety hits me, questioning if I should’ve stayed the night. My eyes lift up, and I see Micah’s face in front of mine, his lips inches from my forehead. I swallow my nervousness, then realize I have a little drool seeping out, running down his shoulder. Wiping my mouth, I take full account of our positions.
I’ve never slept in a guy’s bed before, so waking up in his arms is a new feeling. Somehow our legs have tangled up. One of his arms is under my head, wrapped around me, keeping me close to him. One of mine is the same, and my other is over his shoulder. And that’s when I notice it. Our bodies are so close that his … well, he’s pressed into my stomach.
If Cindy was painting this picture for me from one of her hookups, or if I was watching this scene unfold in a movie or show, I’d think it was awkward and funny. But laying in his arms, it’s the furthest thing I’m feeling. I’m calm. And warm. I feel like this is the best feeling in the world and the only way I want to wake up from now on.
He didn’t press for details about why I didn’t want to lead him on, which I’m thankful for. If he had, I might’ve told him that I’m not ready for sex. But that’s not true. The truth is, I’m more than ready. I want to have sex. But I’m nervous. And scared. Not so much of the act itself, but being that open and vulnerable with someone.
He didn’t give me any reason to think he’ll judge me last night, but I still fear it. Micah told me I don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, but I still feel like I do.
Laying here with his arms around me, it’s crystal clear that he works out regularly. His body definitely warrants the drool I just wiped from his shoulder. But mine? I don’t know.
“Morning,” Micah’s hoarse words break me from my thoughts.
My eyes shoot up and meet his, just before he kisses my forehead. “Morning.”
“Did my morning breath wake you up?”
“No.” I lau
gh and shake my head. Then I immediately slap my hands over my mouth. “Oh, man. Do I have morning breath?”
He scoots lower, so we’re face-to-face. “I don’t know.” He raises a finger to my hand, nudging it to move away. “Let’s find out.”
I swallow nervously and let him push my hand away. Then he brings his lips to mine.
I press myself closer to him, wrapping my arms around him and turning over, to him laying on top of me. He’s still aroused, and it pushes into me. Something about that fact gets me hotter, and even though I know what I said last night, that was last night and now with him on top of me and my lips against his, I don’t want this to stop.
His lips stay on mine, but his body moves enough that’s there a gap.
“Sorry.” He smirks with a light blush creeping up his neck. “It’s, uh, morning.”
I shouldn’t be disappointed, but I am. “It’s okay.”
“And actually, I have to pee.” His smirk turns into a smile. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he grabs a shirt from the floor.
“Aw,” I sigh out loud. “You can keep the shirt off if you want.”
He looks back at me and chuckles. “Silly girl.” Before he leaves his room, he glances over his shoulder. “Oh, and no. You don’t have morning breath.”
Pulling the blankets closer, I smile and run my hand over the empty part of the bed. Across the room, a mirror flashes back my reflection, and I gasp. My hair is a disaster. I mean, it always is in the morning, but right now it’s out of control.
Rushing to the mirror, I hastily run my fingers through my curls, trying to get them under control. Even though he said I don’t have morning breath, I still breathe into my hand and check. It’s not horrible, so that’s good. I run my fingers under my eyes, attempting to relieve the morning puffiness. Rubbing a finger over the front of my teeth, I hear the bathroom door open and scamper back to the bed, getting under the covers.
He catches me pulling them up to my neck, and shoots me a suspicious look. I give him my best innocent expression as he walks back to the bed, laying on top of the sheets, putting his arm over me.
“What’d you do?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Your hair.” He runs his finger through it, pulling me closer.
I look away, a little embarrassed that he saw it so out of control. “I … it was horrible.”
“What?”
“It was insane. Curly hair bedhead is no joke.”
He lets out a laugh, and I feel it in his chest. Leaning over, he kisses the top of my head. “I love your hair. Especially that bedhead look.”
“Really?” He nods. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes roam over my hair again and then meet mine. “Not all fixed up and everything, which don’t get me wrong, you all done up looked amazing last night. But like this?” His eyes roam over my nose and lips, glancing down at the covers and then back at me. “This is you. I like this. Does that even make sense?”
I only nod because if I answer him, I might start crying. He likes me just how I am.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
I get closer to him and shake my head. “I’ll text Cindy.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Who are you?”
He chuckles before kissing my smile. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t press me for sex, even though I sleep with you. You compliment my crazy hair and watch my favorite TV show with me. And now you offer to take me home?”
Wrapping his arms around me, his laugh is deep. “I don’t know how to answer that. I’m just me, Vero.” The use of my nickname makes me pause. He notices my reaction, raising an eyebrow. “What?”
“Only my family calls me Vero.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I like it.”
A silence drifts between us, both of us exchanging smiles once more. It’s the same comfortable feeling I felt last night.
“You know, I really liked this,” he says.
“Me too.”
“I might be doing this out of order since I slept with you already.” He laughs, and I playfully slap him. “Do you think we could go out sometime?”
“I don’t know,” I answer with a smile, giving him pause. “I mean, like you said, we already slept together. I already got what I wanted from you.”
“Oh, so you’re just using me, huh?”
“Well, when you look like you do, I don’t really need you for anything except your body.”
“Silly girl,” he says, unleashing another laugh, and wraps me in his arms.
Chapter 7
Micah
I offer to walk Veronica out to Cindy’s car but she declines, and I stop at the door, giving her one more kiss. For as much fight as I gave Taylor for wanting to have his stupid party, I’m silently thanking him as she leaves. We talked most of the night, we watched TV, made out for a while, and then fell asleep together. And it all felt so natural.
Then this morning, even if we didn’t have sex, there was no awkward morning silence. No stumbling over words, wondering what we should do now. Again, everything just feels so comfortable with her. Natural.
As I’m closing the front door, Taylor walks out of his room. “What’s up, asshole?”
I immediately start laughing. “Dude, you have to admit, that was funny.”
He flips me off, heading to the bathroom. “At least one of us got some last night. About damn time for you, might I add.”
“We didn’t do anything.”
Taylor stops and stares at me, shocked. “Excuse me? It sounded like you just told me you didn’t hit that, but that can’t be right. You two were practically inseparable last night.”
“Well, I mean, we made out a bit, but we didn’t have sex.”
He gives me an apathetic look, shaking his head. “Micah, I’m disappointed in you.”
“Whatever.” Laughing it off, I head to the kitchen.
“Hit the gym after breakfast?”
“Can’t. Meeting up with my dad.”
“All right, cool. I’ll text him to make sure he gives you the birds and the bees conversation again, since apparently, you forgot how that shit works.”
“Ass.”
Debbie, our waitress, comes by and sets down a couple of cups of water. “Same ol’, same ol’ for you guys?”
“Please,” I respond, giving her a smile.
I just ate an hour ago, but whenever I meet up with my dad, we almost always meet at Mick’s, a small diner down the street from his office. He’ll get a Cubano sandwich, and I get a club sandwich. We usually meet once a week, just him and me to catch up and talk. We started it my junior year in high school, and it’s sort of stuck. He’s my best friend, even though I don’t tell Taylor that. He’s been my hero since grade school.
“So, how’d your finals turn out?” he asks.
“Good,” I answer with a nod. “Aced my English class and high B’s in biology and math.”
“And your art final?”
“Good. The instructor loved the mural I did. She said I should consider an intern job this summer for her brother. He runs an advertising agency in West Covina.”
“That’s great. You know, you can still work at my office if you want.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll just stay at the gym for the time being.”
He’s offered me a spot in his office for three years now. I worked for him for the summer between my junior and senior year, but I felt like I was getting special treatment. I mean, I was, but it seemed obvious to everyone else that worked there. It’s a small graphic design company he started years ago, and a handful of people work for him, so everyone is close. I don’t want to feel like the boss is giving me special treatment. Maybe if people who worked there were jerks, it’d be different, but they’re all really nice.
“Anyway, how’s Mom?”
“She’s good. Her and your aunt are helping your cousin with her wedding stuff.”
<
br /> I shake my head. “I still can’t believe Judy’s getting married. A month after graduating high school no less. That’s crazy.”
“When you know, you know, son.”
“Yeah,” I reply, staring at my glass of water.
“Everything all right?”
I still haven’t told him or my mom about Lana and I. They’ve both been super supportive of us as a couple and my mom seemed to love Lana. They both did. I guess it’s time to rip off that bandaid. “Yeah, everything’s good, but … me and Lana. We, uh … broke up a few weeks ago.”
“A few weeks?”
“Last month.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I just …” I trail off, taking a deep breath. “I really thought we could have a story like you and Mom.”
“Micah,” he says my name and doesn’t continue until I look up at him. “Everyone’s story is different. Sometimes things don’t work out. Don’t feel bad about that.”
“I know.”
“Do you think there’s any chance of you two getting back together?”
When we broke up the first time, I only told them we got into an argument and broke up. I felt bad about it at the time, but when we got back together, I was happy I did. It didn’t seem like such a big deal to them that we got back together. But I know there’s no chance of that now. “No. I caught her cheating on me.”
“Oh,” he says, staring down at the table. Looking back up he gives me a sympathetic smile. “Well, you know, people make mistakes.”
I don’t want to correct him. I don’t want to tell him it’s not the first time. So I just shake my head. “No. This … it wasn’t a mistake. We’re done.”
“Okay.” He stares at me with understanding.
“Here you guys go,” Debbie says, putting the plates down in front of us.
“Thanks, Deb.” I offer her a smile.
Eating in silence, he seems quieter than usual, but maybe he just doesn’t want to bring up Lana. I’m pretty sure my parents thought we might eventually get married one day.
No matter what I tried to tell myself, no matter how hard I tried not to think about it, it was never the same after the first time she cheated. I wanted to trust her, but there was always this nagging in the back of my mind, a constant fear of betrayal. I think that’s why I went out of my way so often to try and do nice things for her. On the one hand, that’s who I am. That’s how I was raised. My father has treated my mother better than anyone. I want to be like that.