He kisses my neck again and then that spot where the neck and the shoulder meet and that brings a sigh from me. Who knew that spot had so many nerve endings? Maybe they’re there just for kissing. I’m panting and I realize he’s breathing heavy too. My hands are on his waist and my fingers curl into him. He moves his hips against me and I feel the clenching in my stomach that feels so amazing. There is no disconnect between my brain and my body this time. I’m completely aware of everything that’s happening but it’s definitely my body that’s in control. That’s fine with me. When he breaks away from my mouth to kiss my neck again I drag him back to my lips.
He runs a hand down my side and my body presses into it. His fingers find the hem of my shirt and he starts to slide it up, exposing the skin of my stomach. I tense and he feels it.
“I won’t hurt you, No. We take things at your speed, okay?” his voice sounds rough. I nod because I don’t trust my own. He slides the shirt up a little more and I’m relieved when he stops because I’ve seen Max without a shirt and he’s lean but sculpted. I’m just ribs and hipbones and sharp elbows and narrow shoulders and skinny, girlish arms.
He runs his fingertips over my bare skin, exploring me, learning me. He has this look on his face like I’m the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. He leans in and presses his lips to my stomach then licks and teases and I shiver from head to toe. He moves across my stomach kissing, nibbling, sometimes dragging his teeth and then when he gets to my hipbone he lingers there and my back arches hips rising. He teases the tips of his fingers along the waist band of my sleep pants and I go rigid.
“No,” I gasp. He immediately moves away from me, rising onto his hands and knees looking down at me.
“Just making out,” he says. “Nothing scary. You’re in charge here,” he says. I nod.
He bends his elbows, lowering himself close enough to kiss me again and I return it enthusiastically. He’s an amazing kisser but I think it also makes a huge difference when you’re kissing someone you love. He lowers himself down to his elbows and now a larger portion of his weight is on me and I try to pull him even closer but I don’t think we can get any closer even though I want that and then I feel…
I have never been this hard with Sherrie and as Max moves his hips against me I can tell he’s in much the same state. That’s when I stop kissing him and gasp. I have a holy shit moment of panic because…we have the same equipment! How the HELL is this supposed to work? I mean, of course I know the mechanics or I think I do but I shiver and feel a bit of panic because I just can’t. It’s too much.
“What is it?” Max asks anxiously, concern all over his face.
“I…and you…and…sex, how…I don’t think…”I can’t get out a coherent sentence. I don’t think I can breathe. He trails a finger lightly down my face then kisses my nose.
“Just making out, remember?” he says. “You’re in charge here. We don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. Okay?”
“But, aren’t you going to want to? I mean…I don’t know. I hadn’t thought…”
“Don’t think, No. Just feel, okay? I’ve never done more than kiss a boy. I’m new at this too okay? We don’t do anything until we’re both ready. We have plenty of time to figure it out.”
“But what if?” I bite my lip. “What if I’m never ready for…for THAT?” He kisses me lightly and smiles.
“There are always other things we can do. We’ll figure it out together.” He waits for me to think things through. Okay, maybe I jumped the gun on worrying about sex. This is technically the first time we’ve really even made out and I’m already worried about some possible future event.
“I’m okay,” I say and stretch my neck to kiss him. He lowers himself against me again. This time it’s my hips that press into him. When I don’t think about it, my body knows what to do. I put my hands on his hips and pull him into me at the same time that I raise my hips. He starts to move against me and we find a rhythm and he kisses me and I never knew I could feel like this.
I’m gasping again and I can feel my heart beat through my entire body. All of my nerve endings are alive. I feel like I’m going to burst out of my skin. I close my eyes and clench my teeth because I want to call out every time we come together. I throw my head back as the friction between us builds and then he’s kissing and nibbling at my exposed neck. He really is going to kiss the air out of my lungs because I can barely breathe now.
Every time I try to breathe in and fill my lungs he’s there, kissing me, pressing himself into me. I decide breathing isn’t important. It doesn’t compare to the sensations I’m feeling every time he touches me. I brace my feet against the bed so I can rock harder into him and now I can hear him gasping as well and just when I think I can’t get any higher, that I can’t feel any more amazing than I feel now I go over the edge.
“Aaaahhgggnn,” I say or something like it, something that’s mostly vowels. I finally truly understand the meaning of the word euphoria. It’s short lived because extreme embarrassment immediately follows. I close my eyes and I feel my face get hot. I feel some of Max’s weight lift as he pushes up off of his elbows and onto his hands.
“Hey,” he says quietly. I shake my head. I want to disappear. “Look at me,” he says and I can’t. Soft rubbing against my nose and the tickle of his bangs in my face soon follows. “Come on,” he says teasingly. When I finally open my eyes he’s rubbing his nose against mine. “That’s better.” He smiles.
He slides off of me and lies next to me on his side propped on one elbow. I didn’t want him to move away from me even though I wanted to disappear. I reach a hand towards him and he throws one leg over mine and reaches across me with his free arm, hugging me to him.
“I’m MORTIFIED,” I admit and close my eyes again.
“What? Why?” he says kissing my cheek.
“Humiliated,” I continue. “What was that? Two minutes and I…I…and…Shoot.Me.Now.”
“Well I for one am mighty flattered,” he says giving me one last quick kiss before rolling off of the bed. “Flattered and famished! Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll find us some breakfast?” He lingers by the door for a moment just looking at me with those sleepy eyes of his. “Go on then,” he says and leaves my room.
I slouch my way to the bathroom feeling like a prepubescent geek. As I strip off my shirt I look in the mirror and try to see what Max sees. I see collar bones that are too pronounced leading to bony shoulders and arms that are way too thin. I think my elbow is probably the widest part of my arm. I see a chest that doesn’t have a stitch of hair on it yet, ribs that show under the skin when I move and stretch. I see a stomach that is tight and flat but with no real definition. He obviously sees something else. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he sees something else. It makes me smile.
I take off my sleep pants and realize that the mess I made (like a sixth grader in my pants) has been contained to my shorts. I give them a rinse and hope they dry in the hamper before Mom does laundry. There’s that mortification again.
I spend more time in the shower than I should. I’m hesitant because I don’t know what to do next. I WANT to kiss him and have him hold me and kiss me and just make out all day but I also don’t want anything to change. I want to lie around and watch movies with him all day and eat licorice and just BE the way we’ve always been.
I finally get out of the shower when the hot water runs out (I really miss the endless hot water of our tankless heater in Naperville) and my teeth start to chatter. After I put on jeans, socks and a Henley I go to the kitchen where I hear things sizzling and smell yummy smells.
My stomach growls for probably the first time since I started the Xanax again. When I get to the kitchen Max is there in jeans and a tee shirt with wet hair that’s brushed back off of his face. So that’s why the hot water didn’t last. Two showers at once….which makes me think we could have conserved water and then I feel my face get hot and know that I’m definitely getting ahead of
myself.
“I figured we’d just have cold pizza,” I say as I sit at one of the high stools at the counter. The counter overlooks the stove and I see that Max has peppers, tomatoes, onions and mushrooms cooking. He takes two eggs, one in either hand, and cracks them at the same time somehow holding the shells in his hands while the eggs end up in a bowl. How the hell does he do that? Mom cracks eggs one at a time and even then she gets shells in them half the time.
He cracks a bunch of eggs then after they’re whisked with milk he adds them to the pan. I watch as he cooks. Really, I’m convinced he can do anything. I watch in awe as he makes the perfect omelet.
I get plates and pour juice for both of us. Max also has a cup of coffee. He splits the huge omelet in half and puts half on each plate then finishes with a slice of toast each. We eat in silence for a while and it’s nice. I’m over my humiliation of earlier.
“When do your parents get home?” he asks.
“Mom said late afternoon, so probably not before two, definitely after twelve. Why?”
“We should clean up the living room a bit,” he says with a grin on his face, “and then after that I just sort of want to lie on the couch and hold you until I can’t anymore.”
“Oh, uh, hmmpf, yeah, we could do that for a while,” I agree. I eat as much of my breakfast as I can which is a little more than half.
“You’re on clean up,” Max teases as he pushes his empty plate away. I guess it’s only fair. Clean up doesn’t take long and then we make our way to the living room. It’s not too much of a mess. There are bits of pretzel and chips on the table and floor and I take care of that with the hand vac but the most obvious thing is the empty champagne bottle and two glasses. One of those glasses is still half full by the way.
“Shit, what do I do with that? Stupid clear garbage bags,” I mutter. Max takes the bottle and winks then he goes out to the kitchen. I hear the back door slam. A minute or so later he comes back shivering with damp clothes.
“It’s a mess out there!” he says, “Freaking cold and shit coming down that’s not sure if it wants to be liquid or solid. The sidewalks are slippery as Hell.”
“Yeah, sleet and freezing rain, you’ve never had that?” I laugh. Actually, last winter in PA was mild so he probably hasn’t. “Where did you go?” I remember to ask. He chuckles.
“I snuck the bottle into your neighbor’s recycling. Don’t worry. They had a LOT of wine bottles in there. They won’t notice. I saved your ass from possible parental meltdown. You owe me and I’m cold.”
“I think you’ll live.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I am going to go dry my hair though.” He smiles at me from across the room then heads towards the bathroom. I snuggle under a blanket on the couch and look for something to watch. I can hear the wind blowing outside and the house is cold even though the thermostat is usually set at eighty.
I want Max to hurry up so he can make good on his promise to hold me on the couch. How did I go from tortured to confused to convinced to ridiculously, utterly, indescribably happy since that first kiss in October? When he returns, hair dry now, and lays on the couch, maneuvering me so that my back is against his front and his arms are around me I don’t even care what it took to get here because here is where I want to be.
“What do you want to watch?”
“Nothing. I just want this,” he says squeezing his arms tighter. “I just want to hold you and talk and just tell you…I’m really, really happy, Noah.” I snuggle in against him because the feeling is mutual.
So that’s what we do. We just talk. A lot. He tells me more about what it was like to move all over. It was all he ever knew and it was exciting and Max is adventurous so it was a fun life but he did hate leaving people behind constantly. Hawaii was his favorite place.
“Hawaii was where I learned I was afraid of heights. I was like eleven and a bunch of us hiked for hours to go cliff diving. It might sound crazy, kids that young cliff diving, but it was just normal there. I was the youngest and the oldest was around eighteen I guess. I’ll never forget what it felt like to look over the edge at the water so far below.” He shudders talking about it. “I was paralyzed. I thought I was going to be sick. I could feel it PULL, you know? Like even though I was terrified. It wanted me, the fall that is.”
“What did you do?”
“Stood there practically crapping my pants until two of the older kids took me by either arm and pulled me off the cliff with them. I was so pissed! I came up sputtering and coughing and trying to tread water and punch people at the same time. I never ventured near that cliff again.” I tell Max that the most adventurous thing I’ve ever done was get on a roller coaster.
“That’s not true,” he says.
“It is. I’m boring. I’m a wimp. I wouldn’t even have gotten on the first roller coaster if it hadn’t been for you. I’ve never done anything daring or adventurous.” He holds me tightly and presses his lips to my ear in a soft kiss before he whispers to me.
“What about this? I think of where you and I were a few weeks ago and I’d say this is pretty adventurous.” How do I explain to him that not being with him now would have been more terrifying? Now that I’m finally able to admit to how I feel I can’t imagine not being with him.
Two hours go by as we talk and he makes good on his earlier statement that he just wanted to hold me. As we talk he plays with my hands, and I notice his scars are still red and new. He plays with my hair and sometimes he kisses me lightly on the hair or ear which is about all he can reach. It makes me feel treasured.
Another hour goes by and the wind has picked up and I can hear sleet or freezing rain hitting the windows and I extricate myself from Max so I can look out the window. Everything is white and there’s a thick layer of ice covering the snow. I can see how thick it is on the sidewalks and the street doesn’t look much better. I don’t think the plows have even come through yet. Suddenly I’m worried about my parents.
Did they leave Philly yet? Are they stranded? Have they already had an accident? “This isn’t good,” I say as I pace from one window to the other in agitation. “They could be in some serious trouble.” Max comes up behind me and stops my pacing by placing his hands on my waist and leaning into me.
“I’m sure they’re fine. Why don’t you call them and make sure?” He’s so unflappable. I nod.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell him as I go to my room to search for my phone. I’m shaking now and I have to work on my breathing. I can’t panic now. They’re fine. There’s nothing to panic about, I tell myself. I finally find my phone in the hamper. I can’t believe I even put my clothes in there last night, drunk as I was. There are two text messages from my mom and one voicemail. The texts say they’re going to wait to leave to see what the weather does. In the voicemail my mom sounds nervous but she’s trying to hide it.
“We may have no choice but to stay here another night. Nothing is moving out there and it’s supposed to get worse before it gets better. Please call us back. I hope everything is okay. We love you.” I hit the call button immediately.
“Noah, why haven’t you been answering your phone?” she sounds flustered when she answers.
“I’m really sorry. Max and I were just…hanging out and my phone was in the other room. We’re all good here though. Did you have a good time?” My heart is pounding. They’re okay but I’m still a little wound up.
“We had a great time. Are you taking your meds?” she asks. Shit! I forgot the second dose of Xanax. I was all tangled up in Max and blankets when I should have taken that.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“We’re going to stay here another night if you’re okay?” she says it like a question.
“Yeah, I’m great. I’m fine. I’m better than fine. If you tried to come home then I’d be a wreck. Just stay safe.”
“Maybe you could go to the Maxwell’s,” Mom suggests.
“I’m fine here, Mom,” I assure her. “Oh, uh, what should I do about med
s? I only have enough until this afternoon.” I don’t WANT the meds but I don’t want to feel Xanax withdrawal until they come home either.
“In the top drawer of my bedside table there are more. I left some extra just in case,” she admits. Just in case probably means in case I was panicking and needed more than the standard dosage.
“Okay, I’m going to get back to Max. Love you. Tell Dad I love him.”
“We love you too,” she says and then we end the call. After I take the overdue Xanax I realize that I have another twenty four hours un-chaperoned. With Max. I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face as I go to see if he’ll spend another night.
After Max calls home to let his parents know he’s spending another night we go back to the couch. We spend the rest of the afternoon tangled in each other watching a Doctor Who marathon on the BBC channel. Sometimes we talk and ignore what’s on TV. A lot of the time we end up kissing. Even when we’re not talking or kissing he’s always holding me and touching me and making me feel wanted and cherished.
We break for a lunch of cold pizza. We break later for a dinner of grilled cheese and soup. Max wanted to make a big dinner but I don’t have the appetite and I want something quick so I can get back to the couch. I sneak away to take my meds. I feel more at ease and happy than I have in a long time, maybe ever.
Eventually my eyes get heavy. It’s amazing to me that I can finally sleep. I try not to let Max see me getting more and more drowsy. I don’t want this day to end. Eventually though he notices.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he says as he kisses my hair. I begrudgingly get up and he takes my hand and leads me to my room. He kisses me then leaves me to change. When he comes back I’m in bed and he’s in his pajamas. He leans in to kiss me then turns off the bedside lamp.
“Goodnight, Noah,” he says as he heads back to the living room. I was drowsy before when I was on the couch but now that I’ve moved around and changed and brushed my teeth I’m wide awake again. I lay in bed tossing and turning and thinking about Max. Wait, how stupid am I? I kick off the covers and go back to the living room. The lights are off and Max is on the couch.
Behind the Falls Page 50