by J. Benson
"Sorry." He whispered. "I couldn't sleep... can I come in?" He asked.
Before I could answer, he was already moving closer to the window.
"No, you can't come in." I hissed. "It's after midnight! My grandmother is asleep. If she wakes up and finds you here, she'll have a coronary!"
Taylor frowned. "Your grandmother loves me. I'm a nice young man, remember?" He asked with a grin.
"You can't come in!" I whispered. "You were supposed to go home!"
"I did go home. And I crawled into bed, and I couldn't sleep." He replied with a shrug.
"Did you even try? You must have only been home for like five minutes." I pointed out.
He shrugged lightly, still grinning hugely.
"You're not coming in here. Go home, if you still want to talk to me tomorrow, use the phone like a normal person." I hissed.
Taylor frowned. "But it's kind of cold out here. And I might fall out of this tree and break my neck if I try to climb back down."
I stared at him for a minute. He was so full of it. But the familiar spark returned. He'd found a weak spot.
"Fine." I said with exasperation. "But the window doesn't open any further. It's stuck. You'll have to squeeze through."
"No problem." He said eagerly. He expertly climbed over to the window and I took a step back. He slid his hands under the window and hoisted the window with all of his strength. His long, sinewy muscles twitched with the effort. He managed to raise the window the rest of the way and clambered inside.
I crossed the room and shut my bedroom door quietly to muffle the sound and not to wake grandma. I turned to see Taylor lowering the window quietly. I wrapped my arms around myself, shuddering from the ice cold fall air that Taylor had brought in with him.
"Are you okay?" Taylor asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded. "Just cold. I'm fine." I said quickly.
He crossed the room and folded his arms around my waist. His palms were warm against my lower back, despite the fact that he'd just come in from outside. He tucked me carefully into his arms and I felt the same familiar warmth spread through my body. I rested my head against his chest, succumbing to the odd feeling of comfort in his arms. I felt strangely safe. He rested his chin against my hair.
"Why did you come back?" I asked suddenly. The words were out of my mouth before I could form the coherent thought to consider saying them.
He drew in a deep breath. "Because I wasn't done kissing you." He replied, his voice low and husky.
I lifted my head and looked up at him in disbelief. "What?" I demanded, dumbly. Before I could come up with anything valid to say, he lifted my chin gently and his lips lightly brushed against mine.
I stood limply, in complete shock. One of his arms quickly moved around my waist, pulling me closer abruptly, while his free hand became lost in my hair.
My mouth opened slightly against his, but his lips remained crushed against mine. My hands gradually moved to his chest, while the urge to push him away became prevalent.
In the end, my desire to let him keep kissing me won out, my arms moved around his neck slowly, and I met his kisses enthusiastically, moving my mouth against his.
After what seemed like ages, he pulled away slowly, but kept me locked in his arms. I remembered at last to breath and sighed softy, in a desperate attempt to flood air into my lungs.
"Sorry," He whispered, his hand gently brushing back my hair. "I couldn't help it. I needed to kiss you again. There's just... something that happens when I kiss you. Don't you feel it too?" The corners of his lips turned up in a playful smile.
I absolutely knew what he was talking about it. I felt all of the tingles and sparks when he kissed me. But I couldn't tell him that. His ego didn't need to grow any larger than it already was.
I pursed my lips, shaking my head slightly. "Taylor, we can't do this. If you think I'm going to have sex with you on the first date, it's not going to happen." I insisted firmly. "If that's what you came here for, you should probably just go."
I dropped my arms from around his shoulders, and prepared for the start of a brush off.
Taylor frowned deeply. "Emma, that's not why I came here. Not at all..."
I slowly slipped from his arms and crossed my arms over my chest, mostly to warm my cool skin. "Then why did you come here? Honestly." I asked, timidly. I was almost afraid of the answer.
He shrugged lightly. "I just wanted to talk. You know, just hang out." He held up his hands in surrender. "No funny business, you have my word." He promised.
I pursed my lips to hide my smile. "Okay. I think I can agree to that."
"Great." He replied. "Did your grandmother wait up for you?"
I shook my head. "No. She trusts me. And to an almost insulting level, she trusts you more." I crossed my room and sat down on my bed, pulling my blankets up and over my knees. I sat cross-legged and leaned back against my pillows and my headboard.
Taylor smirked. "I figured as much." He crossed the room and sat down at the foot of my bed, angling his long body toward me.
"Were you on your way to bed?" He asked.
I nodded. "I wasn't planning on sleeping just yet. I was going to sit up and read for a bit. But usually when I read for a bit, I read for a few hours at least." I smiled lightly.
"I've noticed. You always have your nose in a book. It's cute." He smirked. "Read anything good?"
I pursed my lips. "I've been re-reading a few things. I just finished 'Jane Erye'."
"I haven't read that." He mused. "Is it good?"
I shrugged. "It's kind of an acquired taste."
"Ah," He chuckled softly.
"What's your favorite book?"
"My favorite book is 'Atlas Shrugged', by Ayn Rand." He replied, without hesitation.
"Why?" I inquired.
"Why not? It has everything. It's got romance, mystery, and a bit of science fiction. I don't know, I just like it. I read it when I was younger, and I liked it." He shrugged lightly. "What's your favorite book?"
I drew in a deep breath. "It changes every day. I read too much to be able to just pick one book. One day one book will be my favorite and the next day something else will be my favorite."
"Hmmm... okay, here's a question..." He mused. "What kind of music do you listen to?"
I pursed my lips. "I don't really."
"You don't listen to music at all?" He demanded in alarm. "Oh, that's it. We can't be friends, anymore, sorry." He teased with a smirk.
I pursed my lips. "I used to listen to music all of the time. My dad always had music playing in the house when I was growing up. He was always playing the guitar and playing his records. You know, because music sounds better on old records on a machine that's a hundred years old..."
Taylor smiled. "He's right about that."
"But since my dad died... it's been hard to listen to music. I can handle it, but after long periods of time... it gets... tough." I pursed my lips, struggling to keep my emotions in check.
"Your dad meant a lot to you." He mused.
I nodded slowly, moistening my lips. "He was my favorite person in the world. When he died... it broke my heart. It broke a part of me that I don't know if I'll ever get back." I replied.
Taylor nodded slowly, silently.
I frowned. "Let's not talk about this anymore." I insisted. "This is depressing. Ask me something else." I said, eager to change the subject.
He reached out and tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. His warm palm brushed my cheek. I nestled my cheek against his palm, feeling safe in a way that I hadn't realized I'd been missing.
"What's your favorite color?" He asked me suddenly.
I smiled gently, appreciating the fact that he was trying to change the subject. "Blue, I think." I replied. "What's yours?"
"Promise not to laugh?" He asked, wrinkling his nose.
"Is it pink?" I teased.
"No." He chuckled. "It's red."
"Really? Why?" I demanded with
a small laugh.
Taylor stretched out across the bed, inches from my feet. He propped his head up on one arm and studied me. "Red is different. It's loud and bold. It's out there. I like it."
"That makes sense, in a way. But to be fair, orange is way more bold than red." I pointed out.
"Yuck, I hate orange." He made a face.
"Me too." I laughed softly.
"See? Soul mates." He replied.
"I guess so." I laughed softly.
"Did you have any pets growing up?" He asked.
I shook my head. "I always wanted a cat. My dad always promised to get me one, but my mother would never allow it. She always said she was allergic, but she wasn't. Aside from gold fish, I never had any pets. You?"
"We had cats growing up. I had a cat that I loved when I was little, but it got pregnant and once we gave away all of the kittens she ran away." He shrugged.
"That's horrible." I pouted.
"Yeah... I guess I never really thought about it, though." He mused. He shoved his blond hair back and out of his eyes. He looked undeniably sexy lying across my bed and shoving his hair out of his eyes.
"Can I ask you something personal?" I asked, pursing my lips tightly.
"Of course." He replied. "Ask me anything.
I hugged my knees tightly to my chest. "Are things really over between you and Paige?"
"Yes." He replied. "Absolutely. But it's complicated."
"You're not together but it's complicated?" I asked for clarity.
He shook his head. "No, we are definitely, one-hundred-percent not together."
"Then what is complicated?" I asked, trying not to sound relieved.
"It's complicated, because I don't think we ever were together."
I frowned. "What does that mean?"
"Paige is... she doesn't have any emotions. At least I never saw any. She can't feel love, so she doesn't know what it is. She thought she loved me, but our relationship was only a means of convenience for her. She thought that we were the best looking people in the school and naturally we should be together. And together we could rule the school like some sort of pathetic kingdom. She wanted to be famous and popular... and none of that matters to me. Yeah, I mean, she was fun to hang out with... but she's evil. She'll do anything or anyone to get her way. I was just a casualty. I was a pawn in her sick chess game. And now that I've backed down... she sees it as a personal loss. She'll hurt anyone and everyone to get what she wants."
I pursed my lips again. I trusted him. I believed every word of it. "I believe you."
"Good." He replied. "Because I don't have any feelings for her. I never did. I like someone else." He added with a smirk. "Besides, I'm more into sexy brunettes."
"Oh, then it's not me." I teased.
He chuckled. "You're too modest. That's sexy." He teased.
I laughed softly. "I am not sexy."
"Hey, I'll have you know that I am an expert in the field of who is sexy and who isn't. And you're definitely a ten in my books... and a couple of other guys in school, too. But I get first dibs." He smirked.
I shook my head. "Pig."
He made a snorting sound, which sent me into a fit of giggles. I covered my mouth with my hands to keep from waking Grandma.
Taylor and I stayed up and talked until almost three in the morning. He finally crawled out my window after a few extra good-bye kisses. A part of me didn't want to let him leave. But I watched him drop from the bottom branch to the ground and break into a jog though the yard and around the corner.
I waited until he was out of sight before I shut the window, my teeth chattering from the brisk fall wind. I was falling hard and fast, but I didn't think I could stop myself.
Chapter 25:
Can't Stop Kissing
Monday was a whole new ball game in terms of school. I found myself actually caring about the clothes I put on. I put on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. I found a gray cardigan to put on over top. As soon as she came downstairs for breakfast, I begged my grandmother to French braid my hair for me. I even put on a tiny bit of make-up. I wanted to look nice.
Never in my life had I been more excited to go to school on a Monday. I was up early, dressed and showered much earlier than necessary. I even sat for twenty minutes with my coat and shoes on, waiting eagerly for the clock to change to an acceptable time to go to school. This was completely unacceptable behavior for a Monday morning, but I was more than eager to see Taylor.
As I walked down the empty hall toward my locker, I couldn't help but grin like an idiot. Suddenly my life was starting to turn around. Suddenly I was happy, and excited for school. Suddenly my life had some kind of meaning–some reason to get out of bed in the morning. And suddenly I had a boyfriend whom I just couldn't stop kissing.
After our date on Friday night, Taylor had called Saturday afternoon. He informed me that he'd been waiting to call me all morning, but didn't want to call too early and wake me if I wanted to sleep in. I wasn't sleeping, but I appreciated his reasoning. Saturday afternoon we went for coffee at a cute little coffee shop in downtown Tulsa. He insisted on buying me a mug of coffee and we split a scone; he ate most of it. We talked and laughed almost as if we were best friends. I'd never gotten along with someone so well in my entire life.
Taylor had even called me Sunday night with a lame excuse about needing help with a math question. Since I am terrible with math, Taylor ended up helping me with my math homework. And afterward we talked for almost an hour. He told me all about his family, and I was fascinated to learn about his three brothers and three sisters. It almost made me wish I had siblings.
It felt amazing to hear about a happy, functioning and loving family when mine was imploding. It made me nostalgic for my happy childhood.
I opened my locker and pushed my book bag inside. I hung up my jacket, surprised by how little room there was left with all of my stuff inside. I checked my hair in the little locker mirror, making sure that my hair was still perfectly in place. I gathered my books for my first class, excited to get to English; if only for the excuse to see Taylor.
I tucked my books under my arm and turned to close my locker, deciding to get to class early. There were a few things I wanted to discuss with Taylor, and I was hoping he too would be a little early. I needed to prepare myself anyway.
I closed my locker, and just as I was about to step away, a body collided with mine. A pair of long, strong arms wrapped around me and I felt a cool pair of lips on mine.
In complete shock, I tried to take a step back, and backed noisily into the lockers. I was sure I heard the metal crunch into a dent behind me, but I was immediately distracted. In a split second, my arms became completely limp and my books fell to the floor in a flutter of papers and the slapping sound of heavy book covers on vinyl floor.
My eyes fluttered closed; I didn't need to look to know who was kissing me. His lips moved over mine softly, but with a small sense of urgency that was threatening to become a gale force.
My hands moved to his shoulders and lightly pushed him away. Our lips separated and the familiar feeling of emptiness returned. His arms remained around my waist, holding me crushed against his body, but his lips slowly released mine with a sense of reluctance from both of us. I found myself completely speechless.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I saw you from down the hall and I just had to... I mean, I was running for you before I was even sure it was you." He grinned, and I noticed he was breathing heavily from the sprint. I could smell his cologne a little stronger than usual, which probably meant he'd just put it on before he'd left the house. His hair was damp at the ends.I too was breathing heavily, but not from running. My heart was hammering in my chest simply from being so close to him. I felt oddly warm. I smiled up at him, staring up into his perfect blue eyes. "I'm glad you're early."
"I wanted to see you too." He responded with a grin and without hesitation.
This wasn't exactly what I had meant. "I mean, I'd like to talk with you."
I said evenly.
"Alright." He smiled, slightly obliviously.
He crouched immediately and gathered my books, and held them for me. I had forgotten they were even on the floor. I held my hands out for my books, but he shrugged them off and instead took my hand in his, squeezing tightly. I glanced around the hall, happy that it was empty and no one had witnessed our public display of affection. I wasn't sure my face could possibly be any redder.
"I can carry my own books." I protested.
"It's okay, I've got it." He smirked.
I tried not to roll my eyes. He really did exude charm, even when he wasn't trying.
We walked together down the hall, keeping a friendly distance and not touching. I kept my hands out of his reach in case he tried to hold my hand again.
"Do you need to stop by your locker first?" I asked, as we walked past it unexpectedly.
"No, I'm fine." He shrugged. "I've got everything I need."
I finally noticed the messenger bag drawn across his body and felt like a complete and total idiot.
"Oh, right." I muttered.
"Is everything okay?" He asked suspiciously, "You seem... nervous?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. He extended his free hand across the gap between us, his hand brushing my lower back. I managed to move inconspicuously out of his reach.
"I just... think we should talk." I said simply. Students were beginning to filter through the doors. We passed two other people standing at their lockers. I couldn't help but notice that they looked right at us as we passed.
"About what?" He asked curiously. "About us?" His voice rose slightly with worry.
I nodded slowly, looking down and away from him. "It’s not that I don't like you, because I do." My stomach knotted and felt heavy. "It's just... well; you just broke up with-"
"Wait, you're breaking up with me because of Paige? We weren't even together!" Taylor protested vehemently. "Besides, it's not like either of us are going to be curled up in bed sobbing over it. I mean, she's probably moved on to some new poor guy."
I sighed, trying to choose my words carefully. "I'm not breaking up with you... I just... I don't want the reputation of... I mean, people will think we were together when you were with... People are going to think that you were with her and then immediately started seeing me..." I stopped myself. I was rambling and I couldn't see this conversation ending well.