Wilson Mooney, Almost Eighteen

by Gretchen de La O

  “Yeah, I do.” I pulled it out. My hand was shaking. I didn’t want to disappoint him.

  “In your hand?” I could hear him speak through his smile.

  “Um-hum,” I answered down in my throat. I held the note tight in my fingers, almost until they ached.

  “Open it real slow.” His voice was so incredibly hot.

  I visualized him grabbing my hand and holding it shut, his eyes grazing across mine just enough to make me want to kiss him. I wish he was here.

  “Right now?” I whispered.

  “Yes, right now,” he told me. I wedged the phone between my shoulder and ear.

  It was folded to the size of a pack of matches like the ones you’d get at a restaurant. I pulled at the small piece of tape holding it shut. The paper released its pinned tension and I could feel something shift inside. I pulled up the top fold and then the others. Words in his writing spoke to me on the page.

  “Read it out loud, so I can hear what you’re thinking,” his voice stroked the hopeless romantic deep within me.

  “You hold the key. Keep it close to your heart.” Words circled the small piece of cotton covering up the middle of the page. His words, his handwriting, dissolved me into a place I’ve never been. I pulled the soft, thin cotton cover from the middle of the paper. My breath left me. A pile of delicate gold-linked chain circled intricately around a daintily thin, open gold heart pendant with a tiny key dangling in the middle. It was so beautiful, I couldn’t breathe.

  “It’s beautiful,” I gasped. “Max, you shouldn’t—.” I couldn’t continue.

  “I had to. I just wish I was there to put it on you,” he whispered.

  “Me too,” I answered him, holding it in the air. It sparkled in the sunlight.

  “I wanted to give it to you in person, but I didn’t want to make you wait,” his words were deliberate, low and precise.

  “Thank you. I’ll wait for you to put it on me tonight—at dinner.”

  “So you’re not going out with Cindy?” his voice rose.

  “What? No. I thought you wanted me to go to dinner at your parent’s place. Why would you think I was going out with Cindy?” For a moment I felt kicked in the stomach.

  “Calvin heard her pressuring you—.”

  “And, of course, he called you,” I finished his sentence, “Because he’s got your back, right?” I teased.

  “Something like that. He just thought you might crack and choose to go out with her,” his voice broke a little.

  “Max, this is my last night in Aspen. I sure don’t want to spend it in a dance club. I want to be with you. Wherever you are.”

  “Me, too,” he sounded like a little boy, reassured.

  Cindy pounded on the door. I jumped.

  “Wilson, are you ready?” She sounded like she had her mouth against the door. She was so loud.

  “No, almost.” I pulled the phone from my head and yelled. I pulled the zipper down on the baby blue space suit and pulled my arms out. The top hung at my waist when I stuck the phone back to my ear.

  “Max? Sorry about that. I need to get dressed for tonight.” The chill of the room draped my exposed skin.

  “Well hurry up, Wilson. I just got off the phone with Jillian and she wants us to pick her up and go to dinner,” Cindy spoke loudly through the door. She always did that; invited other people without seeing if the person she was with from the beginning wanted to have another person with them.

  “Hold on, Max,” I whispered into the phone. “Okay I’ll be right out,” I yelled toward the door. I heard Cindy shuffle down the stairs.

  “Are you still there?” I asked Max.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” he whispered.

  “God she can stress me out. I’ve gotta come up with a reason why I can’t go with her tonight.” I struggled to pull my legs out of the light blue moon suit.

  “What are you doing?” he asked real quiet and low.

  “Changing my clothes.” The moon suit was finally on the floor.

  “Changing? So, what are you wearing right now?” I could swear I heard him bite his lower lip.

  “Nothing,” I teased him.

  “Nothing,” he growled. I could hear him shift the phone.

  “Well, my bra and panties,” I mentioned.

  “Mmmm, what I wouldn’t give to be there helping you right now,” he breathed. Goosebumps rose with his words.

  “What are you willing to give?” I whispered.

  “What do you want?” he breathed.

  “An evening alone with you,” I said as I took my time.

  He didn’t answer. I could tell he was thinking. He exhaled slowly.

  “What are you thinking about?” I broke his train of thought.

  “You. What you look like with the blue suit down around your waist,” he said as he swallowed and tangled his words in his breath.

  His words tickled me. I wanted to play with him—tease him a little—and make him feel the same way I was feeling. So I took a deep breath and started the game.

  “Did you hear that?” I urged.

  “What?” he asked fast.

  “The clasp on my bra,” I tempted him.

  “Mmm, I want to hear it slide off your skin,” his voice pulled low in my body.

  I put the phone against my skin and dragged my bra across it.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah,” he answered in a low growl. “Are you cold?”

  “Freezing,” I played. My body core was burning hot.

  “Would I be able to see that you were cold if I was looking at you?” he pushed back.

  “Definitely,” I taunted him.

  “If I was there, would you let me warm your skin?” he inquired.

  “Depends,” I was really getting into this.

  “Depends on what?” he prodded for an answer.

  “On how you would do it,” I laughed a little.

  “A blanket?” he mumbled.

  “No.”

  “My hands?” he spoke a little clearer.

  “Possibly,” I teased.

  “My lips?” he asked.

  “Definitely,” I craved, deep in my body, the warmth of his lips against my skin.

  “You’d let me taste your skin?” he asked gently.

  “Yes,” my breath caught on the word.

  “All of your skin?” he said softly.

  “All of my skin,” I provoked him.

  I put the phone next to me on the bed. I grabbed my panties and dragged them off across my legs.

  “What was that?”

  “My panties,” I whispered.

  “Where are they?” he wanted to know.

  “In my hand.”

  “I’m on my way,” he said fast and then there was silence.

  “Max? Hello?”

  Silence.

  chapter seventeen:

  What was I going to do? Cindy was expecting me to go to dinner and clubs with her tonight (I’d much rather stay back and pluck my eyebrows), and Max was on his way to pick me up. I guess my tease had been a little too much for him. One major problem: how would I get Cindy out of here before Max showed up?

  I slipped into the clothes Cindy told me were hideous earlier today and hurried downstairs. She had Calvin cornered in the kitchen.

  “So, Cal, what’s the age gap between you and your brother?” She leaned across the counter.

  “He’s fourteen months older than me. I’m twenty-one and he’s twenty-two.”

  “He dating anyone?” She dropped her hand to his forearm.

  Calvin looked back at me. I gave him a quick nod, hoping he realized that he needed to keep us private.

  “Ahh, not that I know of. That’s one thing he’s always real quiet about.” He pulled back from the counter, sliding his arm out from under her hand.

  “How about you, is there someone special?” She looked up and saw me. “Hey, Wilson—you’re going to wear that?” She crinkled her nose.

  “Actually, Cindy, my h
ead really hurts. I think I’m just going to hang back tonight,” I mumbled and looked at Calvin.

  “Wilson, come on. You’re killing me. It was supposed to be you, me, and Jillian; three guys and two girls? It doesn’t work. Come on, you have to go.” She walked over to me, grabbed my hand, and held it out, looking at my outfit. “We’ll have to do something about what you’re wearing.”

  “Cindy, really, I’m not going. You and your friend can handle it,” I forced the air out of my lungs.

  Nick interrupted me as he came into the room, “Hey, Calvin, ready to go? See you later Wilson, Cindy.” He grabbed an apple from the gigantic fruit bowl and swung his arm in a circle toward Calvin.

  “Bye, ladies,” Calvin said quickly as he followed behind Nick.

  “Wait, Nick—Wilson isn’t going with me tonight so I need a ride.” She spun to catch his arm.

  “Cindy, you can drive. If not, call the service. They’ll bring a car for you.”

  “Nick, come on,” she pouted.

  “Calvin has the Z4, it only has two seats,” he argued.

  “Why don’t you leave the Z4 here, take the Sequoia, and drop me off at Jillian’s?”

  “I don’t know about that. Max might kick my ass if I don’t bring his car back,” Calvin volunteered.

  “Come on, you can pick it up tonight when you bring Nick back,” Cindy tried to convince Calvin. “What’s your brother’s number? I’ll talk to him. I know how to handle him.” She grabbed her phone out of her purse.

  “Calvin, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Cindy, he’s your teacher after all,” I piped up. I could feel the pressure building in my chest and across my shoulders.

  “Yours too, Wilson, big deal; it’s not like I’m trying to date him or anything, I just want to tell him about his car,” Cindy snapped.

  Calvin’s eyes grew large and his mouth hung open. He must not have known the minor detail that his brother, Max—Mr. Goldstein—was, in fact, my teacher.

  “You know what? I’ll text him on the way. He’ll understand. Nick let’s just take the SUV.” Calvin grabbed Cindy’s arm and slid his hand down around her waist.

  “Thanks, Calvin.” She looked at Nick.

  “Fine, but you’re driving.” Nick tossed him the keys and they all walked out the door.

  My heart was on the floor, and my stomach teetered on the thin line between knotting in anxiety and twirling in excitement. I wanted to get cleaned up before Max showed. I ran upstairs, pulled off my clothes, and searched through my duffel bag for my comfortably tight Anne Klein jeans and my cute, off-the-shoulder, button-up cashmere sweater I’d gotten on sale at Nordstrom’s. I’d just pulled my jeans over my hips when I heard the front door open.

  “Max? I’ll be right down,” I yelled from my room. I didn’t hear him say anything back.

  “Wilson?” It wasn’t Max’s voice. My heart jumped into my throat. “I wanted to leave these with you.” Calvin came up the stairs, dangling the Z4 keys in front of him.

  I wrapped my sweater around my chest. Oh my God, how embarrassing.

  “Oh. Thanks, Calvin. I’ll make sure Max gets them.” I shuddered a little as I reached for them.

  “Should I tell my family you guys won’t be making it to dinner tonight?” Calvin was staying very cool. His eyes locked on mine, not making an attempt to look below my chin. I didn’t say anything. He nodded and turned to leave.

  “Calvin?” He waited. “Thanks,” I whispered. He didn’t have to support what his brother and I were doing. He could’ve easily told Cindy everything he knew; instead, he didn’t.

  “Wilson, don’t worry about it. No problem. Just have Max text me if he takes the car home.” He turned and I watched him shuffle down the stairs and out the front door.

  I stretched my sweater over my head and pulled it down. I stood there for a moment before I went into my bedroom and shut the door. With no idea how far away Max was or how much longer it was going to take him to get to me, I grabbed my phone off the bed and called Joanie. The last time we talked I had to cut her off because Max came over.

  The phone rang several times before going straight into her voicemail. Surprising, considering from the last time I talked to her she had left me a gazillion voicemails and text messages. I threw myself onto the bed and left her a vague message only she would understand. I stretched my arms out to my sides and felt the muscles in my back pull and relax. I pushed my chin to the ceiling and closed my eyes. I didn’t realize how sore I was until I stopped to lay down.

  Have you ever fallen asleep only to be startled awake by someone standing over you? It’s like you can feel their presence there before you wake up. They didn’t touch you or say anything; all they did was look at you.

  I opened my eyes to Max’s face, staring at me. My heart curled up into my throat. He pushed his knee into the bed, next to my waist. My butterflies swarmed. His smell anchored low in my body. When he leaned over me, his hair angled forward across his forehead and his eyes soaked me in his presence.

  “Hi, Wilson,” he whispered, wetting his lips with the taste of mine.

  He pulled up slightly from our kiss. My arms still stretched out by my sides.

  “How long have you been here?” My words tickled his mouth. He pulled further away.

  “Just long enough to hear you talk in your sleep.” He smiled and his eyes followed suit.

  “What did I say?”

  I curled my arms around his neck and tangled my hands into the back of his shiny black hair.

  “Something about a guy you’re supposed to meet tonight,” he teased.

  “Did I mention his name?”

  His hands slid under my shoulders and pulled me to his chest. The sounds of our desires rose from deep in our bodies. We could have picked up from where he left it on the phone earlier and I would have been perfectly fine. He opened his mouth and gently caught my lip between his teeth. I really liked when he did that.

  He left me wanting more, dragging his mouth across to my cheek. He pressed his lips to my ear and tangled his words in my hair.

  “Max. You said the name Max.”

  “Sounds right.” I shivered as his smoldering breath occupied my neck.

  He drew his hands up around my face, tracing my arms as he pulled me off the bed.

  “What did I miss? Clothes on?” he groaned with his eyebrows raised and his head bent to the side as his eyes captured my entire body.

  “This is what happens when you hang up.” I teased him.

  “Well, next time I’ll remember to stay on the line.” He slid his hands to my waist. My breath lingered shallowly as he pulled me in and kissed me. Finally tasting him, I was glad he hung up.

  “How did you get out of going with Cindy?” he asked, sliding his hands along my back.

  “I told her my head hurt and that I didn’t feel up to it. Calvin helped by taking her in the SUV. Your brother left your car here and gave me the keys.” I pulled them out from my front pocket and held them in the air. He glanced at them, shook his head, and lured his eyes right back to me.

  “Gave you the keys, huh? You must’ve really charmed him.” He bent to fit the curve of my body kissing down around my collar, as his hand browsed down my arm and collected the keys to his car.

  “Or shocked him,” the words soared out of my mouth. I was hoping he didn’t catch the unscripted thought that had plummeted from my mind. Of course that was like wishing my parents were coming for me. It just wasn’t going to happen.

  “Shocked? What happened?” He leaned back to see my expression.

  “He didn’t know about us?”

  “Yeah, he knew about you.” His hands pushed my hair back from my face.

  “He didn’t know I was one of your students.” Silence filled the room.

  “No, I didn’t tell him…you were my student.” His skin dropped white, his eyes withdrew, and he shifted away from me.

  A wedge was driven between us. Not about the feelings he had for me or I had fo
r him, but the judgment he embodied with the choices he had made. The struggle he had with me being who I was. I understood it, and as much as I hated it, it was a reality we had to face.

  I pushed my body against his center and wrapped my arms around him, feeling his heart pound hard and fast against my body. It was our last night together and I wasn’t giving up now.

  “Max, don’t worry. Nobody knows. Calvin isn’t going to say anything to anyone.” I forced my hands around his face, making him look me in the eyes.

  “It’s not other people I worry about.” He drank from my words and spat them back. His palms hot on my face, he stroked his thumbs across my cheeks.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. You need to know that, Max. Please,” I choked as I grabbed his hands, holding them to my face. I wasn’t about to let him go. Not now, not ever.

  “Wilson, even a year from now—,” he started to say something; I pushed my lips to his to stop him from telling me he was wrong. He wasn’t.

  I wouldn’t let him pull away. The more he pushed his hands to release me, the harder I kissed him. I had to break him. Make him see we were worth fighting for. Dread dripped heavily from my heart, feeding the lost butterflies trying to decipher my emotions.

  Then his body shifted and I knew the fight was over. I felt the rush of his desire flood over me. A switch had been clicked, and he was unstoppable. His hands found their way to the back of my thigh. He locked strongly around my legs, flung me on the bed, and stood staring at me. I didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. I clutched his T-shirt across his chest and pulled him down on top of me. This was the one time I wasn’t going to give in.

  Words were all worn out. Nothing he was going to say could change what I wanted. His hand pressed down on my shoulder, pinning me onto the bed, his legs bestridden mine. His eyes tracked my body to my sight, while his other hand held me perfectly enough to feel his desire. He kissed my exposed shoulder. Lust rushed my skin as he tasted across my collarbone and up to my ear. My breath quickened; I wanted to feel his skin against mine. I pushed my hands down to his waist and yanked his T-shirt from his pants. He sat up, forced his hands to the back of his shirt, and pulled it off his body. I pressed my hands to his chest, feeling my way around his tight skin as he pressed his fingers to the buttons of my sweater. My heart thumped in the back of my throat. All I could think about was his lips kissing my body. He worked his way to the last button down by my waist, and then slid the sweater open. As I felt his mouth press against my stomach, sparks ignited low in my groin. His hands pressed lightly up my sides to my shoulders. He navigated my skin. His fingers clung to the straps of my bra, pulling them vacant my shoulders. His hands wrapped behind me and unsnapped the clasp. I was exposed. Cool air rushed across my chest. I closed my eyes and let him explore the topography of my body. Tasting the contours of my chest, he made feelings rage deep in my body.