Wilson Mooney, Almost Eighteen

by Gretchen de La O

  He shrugged and pressed his hands to his chest.

  “Personally, I was very happy with the results of that game.” He took my hand and pulled me through to the living room toward the stairs. “I want to show you something.”

  I happened to look at the opposite wall and noticed a clock: it was nine forty-five. A wave of disappointment crashed heavily across my chest. In a little over twelve hours we would have to separate and go our own ways.

  He will go back to his classroom and me, my dorm. What if he didn’t feel the same way once we were back at Wesley? I shivered deep in my body. I didn’t want to think about that. Live in the moment, Wilson. I had to convince myself that everything was going to be perfect tonight. And whatever may happen later, I’d have to deal with it then.

  He led me to his room.

  “I’ve been here before. You don’t have to fake it. Nobody can hear you,” I whispered to him.

  “I know that, but I didn’t get to show you this the last time you were here.” He pulled me through his room, grabbed a huge fluffy jacket, and wrapped it around me. “You’re gonna need this.” He pulled open his sliding glass door.

  The freezing air fought its way into the room. It leapt and swirled around my head, trying to find a way down to my protected skin.

  “Max, it’s freezing out there.” A chill spread throughout my body.

  “I know, but it’s worth it. Trust me.” He went out onto the side balcony and held out his hands.

  My teeth chattered, causing my jaw to tense. I reached for him and allowed the chills to take over my existence on the little deck off the side of his room.

  “I hope so, because I can’t feel my nose.” He wasn’t wearing a jacket. As a matter of fact, he was only wearing a hooded sweatshirt that he’d pulled over his head after he stepped out into the cold. He reached up to light a tall standing heater, then turned to show me what he’d brought me out there to see.

  “It’s one of my secret passions.” He went to the telescope he had pointing out into the clear night sky. His boyish eyes rounded, his hair tucked tight under his hood, and his lips stretched across his little smile.

  I would look at pictures of black and white shapes if it meant I got to be close to him. I watched him aim and focus the scope to perfection. I wasn’t cold anymore. He spun his hands in a circle trying to persuade me to come closer. His voice mixed with the cold, creating clouds of words that lingered and drew me in.

  “Come here, look at this,” he told me as I slid between him and the telescope. His hand wrapped around me, trailing across my back as I lowered myself to the scope.

  “That’s Jupiter. It’s the brightest object in the Taurus constellation.” He took a deep, thoughtful breath. “The Greeks believed that Jupiter fell in love with Europa, daughter of King Agenor. When she wouldn’t have anything to do with him, he disguised himself as a white bull and sauntered up to her as she picked flowers. He impressed her so much with his gentle manner, he was able to lay down in front of her, and she climbed up onto his back.” His breath caressed and wrapped hot around my neck. The fact that I saw a bright, fuzzy circle in the telescope was interesting, but it’s the idea that he knew the mythology regarding Jupiter, quite frankly, that turned me on.

  “What happened to her?” I stood up from the scope. His eyes lowered from the heavens to me.

  “He charged straight to Crete with her on his back, then confessed who he really was and how much he loved her. She stayed and married him.” His arms pushed into my jacket, his hands froze through my shirt. I lost my breath and jumped.

  “Oh I’m sorry, you just looked so warm.” He tried to pull his hands out; I held him right where he was.

  “I didn’t expect them to be like icebergs,” I whispered. His eyes traced down to my neck.

  “They aren’t now,” he answered. The tip of his tongue tasted the edge of my lips before he kissed me. He pulled away, teasing me just enough to make me talk.

  “You taste so good,” I mumbled across his lips. I felt him smile.

  My stomach betrayed me and started to rumble.

  “You’re hungry. Let me get you something to eat.” He leaned back, trying to read my expression.

  “I’m fine,” I tried to convince him. Although it wasn’t like I was one of those girls who won’t eat in front of a guy.

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me into his room, heading to the little fridge next to his desk.

  “Wow, how convenient is that?” I said as I sat on his bed and took off the gigantic jacket he’d wrapped me in earlier. He danced around a bit before naming off the limited items he had available.

  “I have a half a jar of maraschino cherries…a half of a sandwich from yesterday…” he held it in the air toward me. I shook my head no. “Oh wait, I have sliced pepper jack cheese? Some apples? Oh, here we go, how about some whipped cream?” He shook the can and tilted it to his mouth. Oh, Jesus, if he knew how badly I wanted to be that whipped cream. He shifted his eyes toward me, reading my thoughts. He brought the can to me on the bed, straddling his legs between mine.

  “Open,” he said, holding the can above me. As I reached for it, he pulled it away.

  “Don’t you trust me? I won’t give you too much.”

  He held the can above me again. I swallowed, parted my lips, and opened my mouth. He focused on my face; his eyes hypnotized me, and mine shut. I heard the can spray and felt the airy cream fill my mouth to overflowing. He tossed the can on the bed and brought his mouth to mine, making sure it didn’t overflow down my chin. His tongue tasting around me, I swallowed the sweet cream. He pushed me down onto the bed. I felt his knee press up between my legs, his hand reaching for the can while he put his mouth to mine. I pulled the hood off his head and knotted my hands in his hair. He pulled back from me. My body ran cold.

  “I’ll be right back,” he groaned as he jumped off me. I could hardly breathe. He didn’t give me a chance to ask where he was going before he was gone.

  Great. Exactly what I didn’t want to be: left alone in his house. I didn’t want the awkward gap of time and space that I had nothing in common with. I wanted to be with him as much as possible. By myself, in his room, my thoughts played tricks on my psyche. Where did he go? Why didn’t he tell me? What if his mom comes in here and I am spread out, lying on his bed? Clothed or not, that would leave a bad impression with her. I didn’t want to mess this up. I really liked her. I sat up and looked around the room. I caught my reflection in a mirror on the bathroom door. My hair was completely jacked. I stood in front of the mirror trying to flatten the frizzy mess. I pulled it back, twisted it into a small tight roll, and stuck a pencil from his desk in my hair.

  When the bedroom door swung open, he had a plate of food in his hand and two frosty glasses stacked together. He froze looking at me standing there; he licked his lips and his throat bounced as he swallowed. He slid the plate onto his desk and set the glasses next to it. He sped to me, pressing his lips to the back of my exposed neck. His hand wrapped tight across my stomach.

  “Mmmm, I’ve never seen your hair up like that before,” he breathed warm against my skin below my ear. His hand, cold from the frosty glasses, slid up across the back of my neck. Chills owned my skin.

  “Really? That’s all it takes to bring you back to me?” I watched him in the mirror before I spun to face him. “I think I’ll wear my hair up around you more often. How about Monday, 12:45?” I asked low. He froze against my neck.

  He pulled away from me, looking me straight in the eyes. His jaw tightened and his lips pressed hard.

  “That’s not fair. I’ll have no control. I keep trying to figure out how I’m going to make it through Monday. I already know that I’m gonna have a hard time keeping my hands off of you—to be honest, I’m beginning to worry about returning to Wesley.” He grabbed my wrists and space opened between us.

  “Me, too. What are we going to do? It’s not like I can drop out of your class.” My stomach ached when I said it. Bec
ause I couldn’t guarantee I’d be able to control myself either.

  “I wouldn’t let you drop out, that’s not a solution. Besides, I need to see you.” He tugged at my chin, bringing my face up to his.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, right?” I told him, pulling him to his desk. I didn’t want to focus on a day that was already too close to changing everything about our weekend. “What did you bring to eat?” I asked.

  “Food,” he teased. He picked up the plate held it high in the air so I couldn’t see it, twisting his body away from me.

  I pressed my hands slowly up his sides, tickling him as he tried to keep me from seeing. He was ticklish. He let one hand go of the plate and wrapped it around me. Pushing me, the back of my legs found the bed; our bodies tilted. He landed perfectly on top of me—not too heavy, but just heavy enough for me to feel his want. He’d saved the plate from falling, he was so good. He looked deep into my eyes. Then, blinking slowly, he looked away to the plate.

  He pulled a low, smooth breath in, “Close your eyes.” I did.

  I opened my mouth slightly, pushing the tip of my tongue against my bottom teeth.

  “No peeking. Here, taste this. Don’t bite me.” He pressed his finger into my mouth; I closed my lips and sucked. Milk chocolate melted on my taste buds.

  “Mmmm,” I moaned from the back of my throat. I opened my eyes, he was watching me. He pulled his finger out of my mouth and tapped the tip of my nose.

  “No peeking.” I closed my eyes and opened again. Cold air rushed my mouth. He pushed something cool and wet against my lips, dragging it across to my bottom lip before resting it on my tongue. I closed my lips around it and pressed it against the roof of my mouth. Strawberry’s sweet nectar flooded my throat. He kissed me, making my lips warm again. He tasted like milk chocolate. His hands pressed into the bed, pushing his body up to hover above my chest. I grabbed locks of his hair, trying to force him back down to me but he resisted. He bent to lie on his side next to me. His long fingers caught my hair and pushed it off my face. He brought his hands to the collar of my shirt and slipped his fingers down under the front. My breathing quickened as tingles raced down my body, low. His eyes didn’t drop from mine. His fingers pressed the charm against my skin before he picked it up.

  “You know, when we get back to Wesley things will have to be different.” His eyes dropped to the pendant.

  Why did he go there? It was our last night together, I didn’t want to worry about Monday or even the rest of my life. I just wanted to live right now.

  “I know. But we aren’t there right now.” I turned toward him.

  “I want to make sure we’re on the same page. This is the only time we’re going to be able to talk about it before we get back.” He broke his gaze from my pendant and examined me, his eyes capturing my expression.

  “Yeah, I know.” I rolled onto my back. My necklace fell against my skin and slid behind my hair. I closed my eyes, stopping the rush of heartbreak that tried to take over.

  “Wilson, I wish we didn’t have to think about it,” he whispered, the tips of his fingers brushed around the side of my face.

  “Me, too.” I opened my eyes.

  “We are going to have to really watch our actions around each other. No touching.” His eyes tightened as he swayed onto his back.

  I wasn’t going to let this mess up my last night with him. I rolled up, pushed my chest against his and wrapped my arm around to the other side of his head, twisting my fingers into his hair.

  “I can’t touch you like this?” I asked low.

  “No,” he let out a breathy sigh.

  “How about this?” I unzipped his sweatshirt and slipped my hands up under his T-shirt.

  “Definitely not.” His hands tucked around me. His stomach tightened.

  “What if I did this?” I stretched up and kissed him. This time, I pushed my desires on him.

  His arms tightened and pulled me closer to him. I felt his body give up and surrender to my way of explaining. We both had a grasp on how we were going to act back at school—I think.

  chapter twenty-one:

  Sometimes I think honor should be compromised. I know—hard to see where that is logical. But in certain circumstances honor just gets in the way. Tonight it was so in my way and I couldn’t seem to find a way around it. Maybe, if I was one of those paratroopers, I could scale it with my bare hands and discover what’s on the other side. But I am not a paratrooper. I’m a seventeen-year-old girl with a twenty-two-year-old boyfriend who wants to wait until I’m eighteen to go “all the way” with me.

  I understand why, I’m not stupid. His career, my education, his freedom, my innocence…all tied together in a nice little package of morality.

  “What are you thinking about?” Max whispered across my neck.

  “My eighteenth birthday,” I answered. He stopped kissing my neck, the tip of his nose pressed firmly against the edge of my ear.

  “Really, what did you want to do?” he laughed just enough as he asked.

  “Celebrate Christmas,” I said.

  “Okay, what else do you want to do?” He pressed his lips up behind my ear. I was going wild. He knew what else I wanted.

  “Open my present from you,” I breathed. He growled hot against my skin. My butterflies twirled. It was exactly what he wanted, too.

  “I want to give you your present so bad.” His face tensed as he pressed his fingers light on my neck. “Twenty-nine days from now.”

  “How about a sneak peek? Just a little something.” I was done waiting. I just wanted him entirely.

  “This whole weekend you’ve been sneak-peeking.” He adjusted his body on top of mine and I could tell he was aroused.

  “I like sneak peeks.” I slid my hands into the back of his Levi’s and felt his muscles tighten.

  “Me, too.” He navigated his lips down the front of my neck toward my chest.

  “Whoa, you’re vibrating.” The phone in his pocket rang. He didn’t stop kissing me as he reached between our bodies to pull out his phone.

  “Sorry,” he spoke against my skin as he set it next to me on the bed. He didn’t check it. He slid his hands down to my waist and pulled at my shirt instead.

  “Max? Don’t you need to answer that?” I asked as he ran his hand up my side and over across my stomach.

  “No. Whoever it is can leave a message.” He pulled my shirt up to expose my chest. He ran his hands across my bra, his lips kissing the exposed edges. Nothing better than a man who knows how to change the subject; however, there was something desperate in the ring of his phone.

  “Don’t you think you should find out who called? What if it’s important?”

  He pressed his ear to my chest, listening to my heart pound. My hands, comfortably tangled in his hair, held him against me.

  “Well, your heart is telling me you’d rather have me continue what I was doing.” He turned his head to look up at me. His hair ticked across my skin.

  His phone chimed with a text message.

  “There you go, now that’s a sign you need to find out who’s calling you.” I grabbed it and put it in front of his face.

  He snatched it. I watched his eyes shrink. His hands worked hard to answer whoever contacted him.

  “Send. Okay—happy, right?” He held his phone up in the air then set it down on his night stand. I heard it shut off.

  “Yeah, so it wasn’t an emergency?” I sat up.

  “No. Now, where were we?” He leaned me back, adjusting his body to press where it was before he’d gotten up. “About here?” He brought his lips to my neck.

  “Yeah, about there.” I slid my hands back in between his underwear and his muscled backside.

  “Because you looked pretty intense when you texted back,” I continued.

  “Wilson, the only person I would want to talk to is here with me.” He stopped kissing me and looked into my eyes. “Besides, it was only Calvin telling me he’s at Nick’s and he need
s me to pick him up.” He pressed back against my neck.

  “Oh shit, are you kidding me? Oh my God! We’ve gotta go. I told Cindy I had a headache.” I pushed him up and slid off the bed. My head was swimming. Exactly what I didn’t want—Cindy to come home and find I wasn’t there. Max stood, watching me bounce around his room talking to myself. “What am I going to tell her? What excuse will she believe? What the hell? I’m so stupid.” My arms tingled hot, and I wanted to throw up.

  “Why are you freaking out? There’s nothing she’ll do. She’s too chicken-shit.” He stopped me, holding me by my shoulders. He took a deep breath, lifting his head, telling me to take one too. I did.

  “You underestimate her. If she’s pissed enough, she’ll attack. And leaving after I told her I was staying home just might be the thing that pops her bubble.” I pulled him toward the bedroom door. We had to get back.

  “Well, it’s about time her bubble was burst. I don’t like how she treats you. You deserve so much better.” He grabbed me and his eyes captured mine. “Slow down. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” His arms wrapped tightly around my body and his lips pressed firmly onto the top of my head. I melted into his embrace. I believed him.

  “Grab that jacket. It’s cold and I don’t want you to catch a chill.” I snatched the puffy jacket I’d worn earlier and hung it over my shoulders. It smelled so good, just like him. I’d have no problem keeping warm in his jacket. He pushed my arms through the sleeves and zipped it up to my neck. He grabbed my hand and pulled me downstairs to the great room.

  His whole family was there, except for Calvin. Max swung his hand in the air and gave a firm wave.

  “Well, I have to take Wilson home. I’ll be back late.” His mom scurried over to us and held out her arms. I let go of Max and hugged her.

  “Oh Wilson, it was such a delight meeting you. Come back tomorrow, you and Maxi. We’ll have a nice brunch.” She let go of me, I wasn’t ready. I held her tight against me a moment longer. Her embrace was something I’ve longed for my entire life. I felt her arms wrap back around me. Finally I got to feel what a mother’s embrace could be like. The smell of sweet peas and the weight of a sun-soaked hot day saturated my body.