Let Me Be Your First (Music and Letters #1)

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  The key to my car fell out of my fumbling hands and skidded across the cold concrete ground. I picked it out of a puddle and got into the car where no one could hear my sobs as I put my face in my hands and cried over the steering wheel. Would there always be an invisible bond that tied Luke and I together? I was twenty-four years old when I lost my virginity to him. That mattered more to me than losing it in a teenage fumble in the back of a car could ever have meant. I had chosen him. I gave myself to him. He wasn’t just my lover, but my friend too. There was history—a connection that would always be there—but I felt disgusted with myself for allowing him to still affect me.

  I reached into my pocket for my mobile phone to shoot Abi a text, but I was drawn to a text already waiting patiently for me to open it.

  Ben: It was great to finally meet you and your pretty eyes…

  The message anchored me for a few seconds before another text appeared.

  Ben: Don’t be scared to start over. It’s a chance to do it better next time…

  Holding my phone to my chest, I breathed deeply and wiped my face with my arm, breathing Ben in and letting Luke out.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  After spending far too long in my car eating the chocolates from Ben and delaying returning home to avoid the inevitable questions from my mum, I made a detour to sit on the embankment now that the rain had passed.

  I took out a book I had slipped into my bag earlier that day. Books had always given hope to my lonely heart. I had filled it with romance and stories too good to be true. Sometimes, I would close a book and feel empty and sad because I was letting my younger years pass me by without experiencing that gut hitting, spine tingling, heart aching love I had read about. Other times, I would close a book and feel that type of love was waiting for me just around the corner because someone would be sitting in their own lonely space dreaming of starting our journey together, not knowing it was me they were dreaming of. But how would I find them? Where would I start?

  My thoughts roamed to Ben. Had he been waiting for me? Was he ready to start the journey?

  The message alert on my phone shattered the silence. I smiled as his name filled the screen.

  Ben: In order to help you decide if I’m new boyfriend material, there are a few things you need to know about me. I clean the shit out of things, including my hands. You might have noticed they aren’t nice and smooth, but scaly like a ninja turtle—if they had hands. Wait! Do they have hands?

  I laughed at his tumbling words, so anxious and full of nervous energy. Just like him.

  Ben: Anyway. I trace it back to when my stepdad would only allow me to bathe once a week, but that’s another story. That’s a pearl of a story. You will love that. You also need to know I haven’t eaten red meat for around three years. I saw a report on the news about all the cancer causing chemicals.

  Me: Burgers are my staple diet. I love a dirty burger.

  Ben: What’s your definition of a dirty burger?

  Me: A burger filled with so much that you can tell what’s in it just from what’s left on your face when you’ve taken a bite. Cheese, bacon, avocado, salsa…

  Ben: Shit. I might need time to think about that. That puts me in a difficult position. Maybe you should have mentioned this on your profile!

  Me: I didn’t write my profile…

  Ben: Oh yeah, your friends wrote it for you. Maybe I could get my money back under some kind of wrongful advertising law…

  Me: You’d forget about me over a burger?

  Ben: I need to think about where this leaves us. I’m not going to lie. This is a big deal for me…

  Me: Stop it. Tell me something else that no one else knows. I liked your answer last time.

  Ben: Well, I’m going to let you down because I’m in a public bathroom right now, so romance isn’t top of the agenda. Remember when I said I clean the shit out of things? Well, I get a bit OCD. It’s time I told you…

  Me: Hand washing, right?

  Ben: Amongst other things…

  Me: OK…

  Ben: I’m a clean freak. I clean things and then I clean some more.

  Me: I can handle that

  Ben: I can’t use liquid soap, white liquid soap.

  Me: Why?

  Ben: It looks too much like semen. Man cream. Jizz.

  Me: I’m more concerned about the fact you’re texting when in a public bathroom. I’m getting all sorts of nasty images.

  Ben: True. Kind of fucked up my OCD confession, didn’t it?

  Me: Just a smidge. Back to semen mimicking soap…

  Ben: I’m sorry. I just can’t wash my hands with anything that looks or feels like semen. The smell is a welcome treat to the nostrils…but the look…not so much.

  Me: let’s move on…

  Ben: OK, consider this about me. I couldn’t navigate my way around a kitchen even if you gave me a map and detailed instructions.

  Me: What do you cook?

  Ben: I don’t. I eat food ready to go. More specifically, sweets, biscuits and crisps!

  Me: What?!!

  Ben: I don’t use the kitchen. I prefer not to expose myself to bacteria. That place is a breeding ground. Have you forgotten I live with four other men?

  Me: We need to expand you diet!

  Ben: I’m up for anything. I have one more confession…

  Me: Go on…

  Ben: I’ve memorised the dialogue of Jaws, including the sequels. Yep, even the crap one. Can you accept my flaws?

  Me: I will think about it, but only if you can accept my love for dirty burgers.

  Ben: Done

  Dusk was settling and the space was peaceful. Night-time revellers had already made their way into town. The only activity to be seen at the embankment was late joggers and passing canal boats. The water rippled calmly as I skimmed small stones across it, a great pastime for clearing the head and refocusing. The embankment was my retreat, my sanctuary and my healing spot. My place to just be. I came here in the good times and the bad. Abi and I had set the world to rights here, laughed here, sung here, discussed the soundtrack to our lives here, and cried here knowing the river bank and silent waters would soak it all up and help us start the healing process. Abi had pined for her lost love here. I knew this was still a retreat for her. But as time moved on, she pined for her lost love alone, without outside interruptions.

  Excitement cursed through my body as my phone alerted me to a message again. My smile turned to shock as Luke’s name appeared on my screen.

  Luke: You’ve moved on quickly!

  He was such a cocky bastard.

  Me: As quick as you!

  Luke: I’ve not moved on. I’m making do.

  Me: Don’t bullshit!

  Luke: She isn’t you. She never will be.

  Me: You had me but you didn’t want me.

  The sharp trill of my phone disturbed the peaceful silence. By the third ring, I made the decision to answer.

  ‘Hi.’

  He didn’t speak at first, but I knew he was there. I could hear his shaky breathing. I guessed that he was probably going through the same reasons in his head as to why he shouldn’t be calling me as I had just gone through about picking up.

  ‘I didn’t think you would answer, so now I’m not sure what I want to say.’ The small voice at the other end of the line didn’t sound anything like him. ‘It’s not good for me, hearing your voice again. Ringing you to…I don’t know why. Shit.’

  I chose not to answer.

  ‘I had some bad news recently. My dad’s been diagnosed with the big C. He has a tumour on his lung.’ Holding the phone to my ear, I let him talk. I didn’t know what else I could do or what he wanted to hear. I barely uttered three words to him, but made the right noises in the right places to let him know I was still there and that I was still listening.

  ‘Where are you now? Are you alone or with him?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m alone thinking about life at the side of the river.’

  Luke’s h
ouse was a stone’s throw from where I was sitting, so I braced myself for what I knew was coming next.

  ‘I’ll meet you in fifteen.’

  It didn’t take him long to find my spot. I felt him behind me, the tension pulsating off his body.

  ‘You can’t beat quiet time in front of the riverbank. You can either contemplate your next move, clear you head, or throw yourself in and end it all,’ he said bitterly.

  ‘Ever the optimist,’ I said quietly as I stared out over the river, purposely avoiding eye contact.

  ‘Optimist is my middle name.’

  ‘Luke the optimist, not Luke the fucknugget?’

  ‘That’s my other middle name,’ he replied, sarcastically smooth in his delivery.

  ‘Where’s your date?’ I asked.

  ‘Cut it short,’ he replied coolly. I finally offered him a glance, but we both returned to staring out over the river. ‘He’s going to die. What do I do then? How am I supposed to feel about that? Buggered if I know.’ He moved closer to me and rested his head on my shoulder. I flinched, but he didn’t pull back. The Elle he had hurt wanted to push him away, but the Elle who liked to heal and soothe started rubbing his shoulders.

  ‘If the worst comes to the worst, you have every right to have mixed feelings. Your relationship with him hasn’t been easy, but he’s still your dad and you’ll still grieve,’ I said, staring out over the clear, crisp water. ‘You could spend the rest of his life, however long or short, trying to make amends.’

  A single tear ran down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away, destroying the factual evidence of the love for his father.

  Stubborn man. Stubborn men.

  ‘Well, let him die then, but do you really want to carry around the regret for the rest of your life?’ That came out harsher than I had intended, but truthfully, I had detached myself from the situation. Emotions make a person vulnerable, and I just couldn’t go there again.

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  I nodded in satisfaction that, for once, he had listened to my advice.

  ‘You always know the right things to say.’

  ‘No, I don’t. I bluff it most of the time.’

  ‘Where did it all go wrong?’

  ‘You just need to spend some time talking to your dad. Just be with him.’

  ‘No, I mean where did it all go wrong with us?’

  ‘Don’t go there,’ I said firmly, standing and shaking my legs briskly to try to get some feeling back. ‘Let’s take a walk,’ I said as I started moving, not waiting for his reply.

  We strolled along the riverbank, talking and laughing. He tried to hold my hand a couple of times, but I gave him the death stare as a deterrent. This made him chuckle lightly, which in turn made me smile. I couldn’t help but reminisce about the early days of our relationship when it was easy like this, but Ben started to creep into my thoughts. Being with Ben was easy, wonderful, breathtaking, but new. Luke and I knew each other. Our friendship was a good foundation for our relationship, and talking to him like this was making me realise how much I’d missed it.

  ‘Do you think we’ll ever get to the point where we can be friends?’ I asked as we stopped in front of my car.

  ‘Is that all you’re willing to offer me?’

  I looked to the ground as I answered. ‘That’s all I can offer.’

  He stepped in and wrapped his arms around me. ‘God, I miss you, Elle. I miss us. I made such a mess. I’d give anything to change it.’

  I’d heard those words before, so I knew they were just words. Words were meaningless when he hadn’t done anything to prove them or show that he was willing to fight for us. I cupped his face with my hands and kissed his cheek before getting into my car.

  My phone chimed again. It was a photo from Ben. It was a photo of a burger with all the extras. A perfect dirty burger. Ben was holding his thumb up in front of it.

  Ben: Anything for you…

  I smiled as I pulled away, watching Luke slowly disappear in my rear view mirror.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ‘I had the worst blind date once. This will make you laugh. Our meals arrived and suddenly she took my plate and started cutting up my steak.’

  I covered my mouth with my hand.

  ‘Yep. When I pointed out the weirdness of her cutting up food for a grown man she’d only just met, she laughed, apologised, and explained it was a habit because she had to cut up meat for her two-year-old triplets, an aspect my friends had failed to mention when setting me up.’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ I smiled.

  ‘Oh, I could write a book. You know what else is weird? I mean really weird. People who have photos of themselves around the house when they live alone. I went on a date with a girl once. She had a picture of herself on the fireplace dressed in a lace bodysuit with her arse hanging out.’ Ben was deep in conversation. I silently watched him clean the restaurant cutlery with a wet wipe and then studied him as he took out another wipe to clean his hands.

  ‘What did you say to her?’ I asked in amusement.

  ‘Nothing. What can you say? Sorry, but I’m not comfortable with your off the chart level of self-esteem?’ He laughed as he rubbed his finger across the rim of his bottle of beer. I hadn’t decided if he was cleaning it or if it was a nervous habit.

  ‘I take it you didn’t see her again?’

  ‘Yes, I’m seeing her tomorrow actually.’ He laughed as I swallowed harshly. ‘No, Elle, I didn’t see her again. She wasn’t for me,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Our self-esteem clashed. It wasn’t a match made in heaven.’

  ‘We can be low self-esteem buddies.’

  ‘I don’t know why you have low self-esteem. You’re beautiful.’ He smiled in the corner of his mouth and blushed as he waited for my reaction.

  ‘I would normally say don’t be ridiculous, but I’m going to learn to take a compliment and say thank you.’

  ‘In that case, can I add that you look fucking sexy in those jeans, or would that make you blush?’ He was bold, but his eyes darted to the table as he fiddled with the salad on his plate.

  ‘I’m probably blushing, but thanks. Again.’

  As I laughed, he finally met my eyes.

  ‘I like to make you blush,’ he said as he slowly reached for my hand. As our fingers laced together, I felt the warm glow of desire prickle its way from the tips of my fingers up to the back of my neck. He ran his thumb across the sensitive skin of the inside of my wrist. I had to twist my lip under my teeth to stop a moan escaping from my mouth.

  He was a jumbled mix of nervous and insanely sexy. Every touch, every movement, and every smile was directed at me. He was testing my reactions and he was testing me; and I was pretty bloody sure I was going to pass.

  His eyes lit up as I stroked my foot against his leg underneath the table. His hand went to his mouth and I watched the perfect rosebud part as he bit down on the tip of his thumb. ‘Shall we get the bill?’ he murmured through the thumb at his lips, supressing a wide smile.

  ‘Oh sure, do you want to split it?’

  ‘No, I’m paying.’ He frowned in disbelief. ‘Put your purse away; I’ve got it,’ he said as he gestured for the waitress and asked for the bill. She smiled brightly at him as she bounced over, completely ignoring me. He failed to notice her not so subtle attempt at conversation as he wordlessly placed his credit card on the dish without giving her so much as a chance glance. He pushed the dish towards me, offering both mints on a broad smile. I shivered in elation.

  As we left the restaurant, he opened the heavy glass door for me. ‘Here, lean in,’ he said as he covered our heads with his jacket to shield us from the pouring rain.

  ‘Are you always such a gentleman?’

  ‘I can’t let you get soaked, can I?’

  We ran as the rain got heavier, both of us holding on to the fabric of his jacket. He directed me over to a small alleyway next to a vacant deli shop. He didn’t drop the coat despite us both being saved from the downpo
ur. As I looked up at him under the darkness, he gently pushed me towards the wall with his body.

  ‘You’re eyes are beautiful. Such a clear blue. I’ve never seen anything like them,’ he said breathing hard as he leant in. ‘They say so much.’

  ‘What do they say?’

  ‘Everything,’ he gasped as I ran my hand across his jaw up into his hairline, stroking his temples with my thumb. He shivered and pulled himself back, gathering his breathing and looking into my eyes with force. The jacket still covered us and it gave me the strength to put my lips to his. We were in our own world. Just the two of us. Protected. Disguised. Removed.

  He met my lips with a passion we had both denied ourselves for too long.

  ‘Your lips tell me you’ve been hurt but you want to try again,’ he said between breaths and kisses. He let one side of his jacket go so that it dropped to cover more of us. His free hand wandered the curve of my hip until he was stroking my behind. Stroking led to squeezing, and squeezing led to thrusting our bodies tightly together. ‘You’re falling, but you’re scared and excited all at the same time.’

  ‘I get scared sometimes. I feel such a strong connection between us. I’ve lost before and I don’t want to lose again.’ I dropped my hand to his neck and looked straight into his chocolate eyes. ‘I’m waiting for the fall.’

  ‘Trust me,’ he whispered as he pushed my hair from my eyes, ‘I won’t hurt you.’

  ‘I’m trying to believe you,’ I said, my finger circling his ear. He smiled and shifted his head in encouragement for me to continue. ‘You look at me like I’m precious, or as though I’ll fade away if you stop looking.’

  ‘Don’t you think I feel the same? You’re not quite with me, Elle.’

  ‘I’m trying,’ I said as I put my hands on his chest, feeling the heavy beat of his heart as it echoed my own.