“Alright guys, we’ve got to go so we won’t miss our reservations,” Dawson finally said.
We traded hugs with the parents. “Dawson, I texted a picture to your mom. She said you guys look amazing and to be careful,” Mr. Anderson said.
“We will,” Dawson promised, squeezing me to him.
“Isabelle, don’t forget your bag,” Mom reminded me. Dawson grabbed the bag she’d picked up from where I dropped it on the steps. “I figured you and Dawson would still wind up at the party all your friends are going to. That’s why I didn’t tell you not to pack a bag.”
“I guess we will.” I shrugged. “Obviously, we haven’t talked about it yet.”
“Well, if you come back home, that’s fine too. Just make sure you lock up good when you come in. You know your dad and I are heading out of town for that concert. We won’t be back until probably after lunch tomorrow,” Mom said.
“Yeah, we’re too old to stay out late and then get up at the crack of dawn,” Dad chimed in.
“I’ll be with them too. So, if you guys need anything, one phone call gets you all three of us,” Mr. Anderson added.
As Mom hugged me goodbye, I murmured in her ear, “No lecture about potentially being alone with Dawson?” I was only half-teasing her.
“Nah. I never worry about you when you’re with Dawson. He’d never do anything to hurt you or put you in danger,” she said confidently in my ear.
When Dawson ushered me out the front door, I was surprised to find his dad’s red sports car in the driveway. “Your dad’s letting you drive his baby?” I fake whispered.
Behind us, his dad burst into laughter. “I offered. I wanted you guys to arrive in style and not have to be dependent on a chauffeur. If the prom winds up being lame, you can leave whenever you get ready.”
“Thanks,” I tossed over my shoulder.
As Dawson drove us to the waterfront restaurant he’d somehow gotten us reservations to, he explained how our phone call days ago had immediately set him into motion to come take me to prom. Apparently, he’d called my mom the same day and got her on board with helping him order the flowers, making the reservations and dealing with my friends.
Dinner was wonderful. Prom was perfect. We didn’t leave the dance floor all night—from line dancing to slow dancing and everything in-between. Dancing within Dawson’s embrace all night kept me from noticing anything going on around me. After a couple of hours, my feet were starting to throb, but I didn’t want to leave his arms.
Leona Lewis crooned about “Bleeding Love” as Dawson pulled me closer. I stared up into his eyes, completely mesmerized. “Thank you for making this the best night of my life. I couldn’t imagine being here with anyone but you.”
♪ Bleeding love by Leona Lewis
“I’ve imagined taking you to prom for years. I’m glad it worked out for us to share this night.” So much emotion passed across his features. I longed for my sketchbook, so I could capture him.
Before I could say anything else, his face descended towards mine. The weight of his lips on mine was so natural. I wasn’t sure if we continued to dance while we kissed; I just allowed myself to get lost in the dance of our mouths—the waltz of our lips, samba of our breaths, strut of our teeth, and twist of our tongues.
A throat clearing nearby woke us from our kiss-induced trance. My cheeks heated as I took in the reprimand on Ms. Lane’s face.
“Sorry,” I whispered. She gave us a quick grin and walked away to break up any other love fests on the dance floor.
“Was that Ms. Lane, our elementary school music teacher?” Dawson asked.
“Yeah. When the elementary school cut the music program, she moved to the high school,” I explained as he spun me out from him and drew me back.
“Hmmm.” He nodded. “One day, I’m going to help out the music program in our old school.”
The notes of the song faded in the background. “You ready to get out of here?” he asked.
I nodded. ‘’Did you want to go to the party? What am I thinking? Of course, you do. I’m sure you want to spend some time with your old friends.”
“Actually, would you be terribly disappointed if we skipped the party and hung out… just the two of us? I mean, I came for you. I don’t really want to have to talk to everybody else, since I’m only home for a short while.” The smile on his face was hesitant, like he was worried I would want to go to the party.
“I’m a little relieved you want to skip the party. I saw the trunk of the guys’ cars yesterday. With that much alcohol, I’m sure things are going to get out of control. I’d like to steer clear of it,” I admitted.
“It’s settled. We’ll go back to your house. You want to text your parents, so they’ll know we’re not going out?” With his hand on the small of my back, he ushered me back to the table where I’d stashed my purse.
I nodded. We bid our farewells and left. The ride back to my house seemed to last forever yet ended instantly. Dawson held my hand the entire time, easing my nerves but making my heart riot over his simple touch. He glanced over at me several times but remained silent.
♪ Just One Look by Doris Troy
After he helped me out onto the sidewalk by my parents’ driveway, he grabbed both our bags from the back. I started to make my way to the front door when his hand tugged me to a stop. Frowning up at him, I asked, “Did you want to say goodnight and go back to your dad’s?” Please God, no.
“No, I was hoping we could hang out in the treehouse like old times first. You still have the blankets and stuff up there, right, so you won’t get too cold?” He glanced over at the darkened shape looming in the back corner of the yard.
My heart leaped over the realization that though time and miles had separated us for years now, the same stuff was still important to him. Our memories still mattered.
“Yeah, everything’s still up there. And I’d love to hang out for a bit up there.”
Forgetting how I was dressed, I started across the yard. My heels sunk in the damp grass, making me stumble. I giggled at the way the ground altered my gait.
“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to climb in these heels.”
When we reached the tree, Dawson squatted down and reached beneath the flowing skirt of my dress. A shiver raced up my leg as he tenderly grabbed my foot and unfastened my shoe. He repeated the process with the other foot, then stuffed my shoes in his bag. His eyes raked over me.
“Maybe we should just go inside. ‘Cause how are you going to be able to climb in that dress?”
A dress, beautiful as it was, wasn’t going to stop me from spending time with Dawson in our sanctuary. I gathered up the fabric of the skirt, removing the hindrance to my feet being able to climb.
“Catch me if I fall,” I said over my shoulder as I made my way up the rungs, both hands full of fabric and wood.
♪ Fall into Me by Brantley Gilbert
“That goes without saying,” he responded.
As I made my way through the trap door, he chuckled beneath me. “Still got some tomboy in you, I see.”
I laughed along with him as I took our bags from him and set them in the corner. I flipped a switch, turning on the twinkle lights running along the perimeter of the ceiling. Dawson gasped in surprise. Since the last time he was up here, Dad had run electricity from the house, so I could easily work in here whenever inspiration struck.
“Now I can work up here whenever,” I said by way of explanation.
“Nice.” His gaze darted around the space, cataloging all the other changes—new drawings, an easel in the corner, curtains on the windows. His perusal landed his eyes back on me. “I think I forgot to mention how much I’ve missed your smile, your eyes, your face.”
“I’ve missed yours so much too. Especially your laugh and your hugs. I thought as the years passed I would get used to you being gone. But I haven’t,” I whispered into the space that separated us.
He stepped closer to where I stood in the center of the small space. We w
ere only a breath apart. “Me neither,” he whispered. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
“Then why aren’t you?” I tilted my head as I drowned in the whiskey depths sparkling down at me.
“Because there’s no teacher here to interrupt, no parents around who might walk in on us.” He licked his lips. “No one to keep me from wanting more. And I don’t want you to think I have expectations or that I’m just after what Jessie was,” he confessed quietly, clenching his fists by his sides.
“What if I want more?” I murmured.
♪ Drive Me Crazy by Kip Moore
Confusion marred his face as he took a tiny step back. “I don’t mean to be dense, but I really need to understand. I thought you weren’t ready to … um… go there and that’s why you told Jessie no, right?”
I removed the distance his movement created. Nerves crept up my throat, clogging it. I never really imagined having this conversation, so I was unprepared. But I couldn’t let Dawson put more space between us. I’d always been honest with him, and he’d never hurt me.
Sucking in a deep breath, I gathered up every ounce of courage I had. “I wasn’t ready to go there with him. He wasn’t the one. He was never going to be the one. I always wanted it to be you. Even when you left, and I didn’t know how it would happen, I still wanted it to be you. I didn’t want Jessie to have any of my firsts. I never said it out loud, but he was only a placeholder. When I’m dying and I look back on all the monumental moments in my life, it’s you who I want to see beside me in those images.”
“So, you’ve… never… ah…?” His feet shuffled nervously.
My eyes dropped to the floor, and I shook my head as I chewed on my lower lip. I wrapped a stray lock of hair around my finger repeatedly.
“Me neither,” he offered softly.
His two-word confession surprised me. I dropped the strand of hair I’d been fidgeting with. There were always girls mentioned in a casual way in passing conversations between us. There were even sometimes girls hanging at the jam sessions I’d watched on my computer.
How was it possible that he had never?
“Not even once?”
“Not even close. I let everyone think what they want about me. But I haven’t even…” He swallowed and shook his head like he was embarrassed. “Let’s just say there’s a lot I haven’t done. It’s you who I want in my memories too. No one else would ever mean as much.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth as a chuckle escaped my lips.
“Are you laughing at my lack of experience?” he teased.
My expression turned horrified. “Oh God, no. I just think it’s so amazing that the two of us are so in sync with each other, even with hundreds of miles separating us, that we reserved something so special to share with each other.”
The tension fell from his shoulders at my explanation. “Like destiny.”
♪ You’re All I Need by White Lion
“Like destiny,” I agreed with a small smile.
“The red thread of fate.” His gaze met mine directly.
My face beamed at the reference. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
He reached across the empty space between us and cradled my cheek. “Of course, I remember. I’ve actually spent a lot of time thinking about it. I’m even trying to write a song about it. Honestly, that legend explains so much of how I feel where you’re concerned. Like I know even when we’re not together, and times like when you were with Jessie, we were still connected by an inseverable thread. I just had to hold on to my end until I was back in your orbit again.”
I finally understood what the word swoon meant. Because his words made my heart do it just then. “You’ve always had a way with words.”
He stepped closer to me. “Only for you, flutterby.”
His mouth covered mine, and words ceased to exist. A new language took over our attempts at communicating. His fingers traced designs on the skin of my back until every nerve ending in that expanse of flesh was drawn tighter than the strings on his guitar. His lips moved along my jaw, sampling my earlobe, then my neck. I wasn’t sure which location produced the most shivers, but I knew that I liked them both. Our kisses in the past had never been like this. They’d been hot, but never so fraught with sensations. His hands ran up my sides, barely touching me. The light touch made me desperate. My hands clutched his biceps when my knees went weak.
He groaned against my skin. The sound emboldened me. My fingers unfastened the buttons of his shirt. My skin was greedy to be against his. He buried his face in the crook of my neck as my hands traced every peak and valley of his torso.
“Flutterby, I’m nervous. And I’m going to go ahead and say sorry now before my brain gets too fuzzy to talk. If we do this, I’m probably not going to last. But I promise, I will get better. It’s just that I want you so damn much.” He pulled my body flush against his, so I could feel the evidence of his desire for me.
God, he was huge.
“How’s it going to fit? I mean, I, uh… haven’t seen it or anything. But I feel it. And it feels like a monster.”
The words spewed from my mouth without passing through my filter. Thank goodness my lips clamped shut before I asked if I could touch it. I really wanted to. My cheeks heated with embarrassment.
He chuckled. “Izzy, you’ve just made my whole damn night.” A cocky smirk lifted his lips, shattering my nerves.
His fingers cupped my cheek as he looked at me with eyes full of sincerity. “I’m not going to lie to you, it’s probably going to hurt. I wish like hell it wouldn’t. But from everything I’ve heard, it’s going to at least a little. But then it gets better.”
He chewed his lip nervously. His stare was so intense, it scorched my skin. Nerves had my eyes examining the planes of his body instead of returning his stare.
“I know you’d never hurt me on purpose. And I’ve heard it’s going to hurt before it eventually gets good.” I sucked in a breath and tried to still the shaking going on in every cell of my body. “Some of my friends said it takes several times before it gets good. So, I’m prepared for that.”
His hand gripped my chin, so my gaze had to meet his. “I’m going…” He paused and swallowed audibly before continuing, “…to do some stuff first to help prepare you. It’s supposed to help you feel really good. You can stop it at any time, and I won’t get mad. If you get scared or nervous or change your mind, we can stop. You’re in control. OK?”
I nodded. He stepped away from me and shrugged out of his jacket and shirt, toed off his shoes, and unfastened his pants. My mouth went dry as I watched him strip down to his boxers. I’d seen him in a swimsuit every summer since we were kids. I’d watched his body change from scrawny and undefined to this toned physique. Last summer, it had been a turn on every day of his visit to see his muscular torso. But this time, seeing him this way, was so much hotter.
Dawson stepped to the corner and grabbed pillows and blankets. He fashioned a nest out of them and my bean bag chair while I watched. My gaze stayed glued to the way the cotton fabric moved and shifted over his butt. Before he stepped back to me, he dug into his pants pocket and removed his wallet. Nimble, musician fingers plucked a silver square from inside.
“Courtesy of Dad, from, like, two years ago. I’d never put you at risk. I hope you know that,” he said earnestly.
“I know. I’m never worried when I’m with you.” I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at the bulge in his boxers. I wished I’d asked my friends the thousand questions running through my mind. Then maybe I wouldn’t have been so nervous.
In milliseconds, he was back in front of me. I felt a lot less vulnerable with him half-naked already. We were like two atoms on a collision course. Our arms went around each other simultaneously. Mouths banged into each other. His tongue swiped my lips, which parted of their own volition. Our teeth crashed together as our desperate passion made us sloppy. His hands toyed with the button at the nape of my neck holding the halter top of my dress cl
osed.
He pulled back and met my gaze. A conversation happened with our eyes. No spoken words were necessary. Finding permission in my gaze, his hands unfastened the button and hooks. Then they traced a torturous line down my spine to the top of the zipper. Another silent exchange passed between us before the quick sound of metal on metal filled the air. Metallic teeth parted in tiny clicks, exposing more of my skin to the night air. The emotions flashing in his eyes indicated he was at war with himself, wanting to make sure he wasn’t removing the choice from me. I took mercy on both of us and stepped back. The absence of pressure from his chest against mine allowed my dress to cascade down my body into a puddle at my feet.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “In all my fantasies, and there have been many, you never stole my breath, my mind, my heart like you are right now. You are the inspiration of every song I will ever create.”
His eyes roved slowly over me, taking in every line and curve of my body. Determination set his features, and he scooped me up. Gently, he settled me on the hot pink bean bag where we’d spent many nights of our childhood and adolescence cuddled up together. The dig of his elbow in my thigh only registered as a brief moment of discomfort. As he knelt between my knees, his touch made every articulate thought flee my mind. Fingers, lips and tongue memorized every inch of my body. Eventually, I gave in to a pleasure I’d only heard rumors of, and the best night of my life only continued to get better.
I HIT pause on the CD player and pulled into the next place offering an asphalt respite. Throwing the car in park, I dug through the center console for a napkin and used it to mop the water from my face. My head dropped to rest against the steering wheel. There was a reason in the past two years I hadn’t allowed my head or heart to travel the path to that memory. It was one of my most treasured ones.
Our first time was nothing like I imagined it would be and everything I’d hoped it would be. It was perfect with all its tenderness and awkwardness. The sweet kisses we planted on each other. My shy mission exploring him. His embarrassing admission to having watched porn to know what to do so it’d be good for me. That first joining was only a handful of minutes, but he was right when he said the next time would feel better and be longer.
Notes of the Heart: Book 2 of the Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Page 21