Hopeless

by Hoover, Colleen

  He rolls himself on top of me and brings my arms above my head, clasping them in his hands. I’m hanging on to every single word he’s saying, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever it is he’s doing right now. He straddles me, holding his weight up with his knees. “But what I can’t handle, Sky? What drives me crazy and makes me want to put my hands and my mouth all over every single inch of you? It’s the fact that you just said The Jerk is your favorite movie ever. Now that?” He drops his mouth to mine until our lips are touching. “That’s incredibly fucking hot and I’m pretty sure we need to make out now.”

  His playfulness makes me laugh and I whisper seductively against his lips. “He hates these cans.”

  He groans and kisses me, then pulls away. “Do it again. Please. Hearing you talk in movie quotes is so much hotter than kissing you.”

  I laugh and give him another quote. “Stay away from the cans!”

  He groans playfully in my ear. “That’s my girl. One more. Do one more.”

  “That’s all I need,” I say teasingly. “The ashtray, this paddle game, and the remote control, and the lamp…and that’s all I need. I don’t need one other thing, not one.”

  He’s laughing loudly now. As many times as Six and I stayed up watching this movie, he’ll be surprised to know there’s a lot more where those came from.

  “That’s all you need?” Holder quips. “Are you sure about that, Sky?” His voice is smooth and seductive and if I was standing up right now, my panties would without a doubt be on the floor.

  I shake my head and my smile fades. “You,” I whisper. “I need the lamp and the ashtray and the paddle game and the remote control…and you. That’s all I need.”

  He laughs, but his laugh quickly fades once his eyes drop to my mouth again. He scrutinizes it, more than likely mapping out just what he’s about to do with it for the next hour. “I need to kiss you now.” His mouth collides with mine and for this moment, he really is all I need.

  He’s propped up on his hands and knees, kissing me fiercely, but I need him to drop himself on top of me. My hands are still locked above my head and my mouth is useless to form words when he’s teasing it like he is. The only thing I can do is lift my foot up and kick his knee out from under him, so that’s what I do.

  The second his body falls against mine, I gasp. Loudly. I hadn’t taken into consideration that when I lifted my leg, it would also push the hem of my dress up. Way up. Couple that with the hard denim of his jeans and you have a pretty gasp-worthy combination.

  “Holy shit, Sky,” he says between breathless moments of completely ravishing my mouth with his. He’s winded already and we haven’t even been at it more than a minute. “God, you feel incredible. Thank you for wearing this dress.” He’s kissing me, sporadically muttering into my mouth. “I really…” He kisses my mouth, then runs his lips down my chin and halfway down my neck. “I really like it. Your dress.” He’s breathing so heavily now, I can barely make out the mumbling coming from him. He scoots slightly further down on the bed until his lips are kissing the base of my throat. I tilt my head back to give him plenty of access, because his lips are more than welcome anywhere on me right now. He releases his grip on my hands so he can lower his mouth closer to my chest. One of his hands drops to my thigh, and he slowly runs it upward, pushing away what’s left of the dress covering my legs. When he reaches the top of my thigh, he stills his hand and squeezes tightly, as if he’s silently demanding his fingers not to venture any further.

  I twist my body beneath his, hoping he’ll get the hint that I’m attempting to direct his hand to keep going wherever it wants to go. I don’t want him to second-guess himself or think for a second that I’m hesitant to go any further. I just want him to do whatever it is he wants to do, because I need him to. I need him to conquer as many firsts as he can tonight, because I’m suddenly feeling greedy and I want us to pass them all.

  He takes my physical cues and inches his hand closer to my inner thigh. The anticipation of him touching me alone is enough to cause every muscle from the waist down to clench. His lips have finally made their way past the base of my throat and down to the rise in my chest. I feel like the next step is for him to remove the dress completely so he can get to what’s underneath it, but that would require his other hand, and I really like it where it is. I’d like it a little more if it were a few inches further, but I absolutely don’t want it further away.

  I bring my hands to his face and force him to kiss me harder, then drop my hands to his back.

  He’s still wearing a shirt.

  This isn’t good.

  I reach around to his stomach and pull his shirt up over his head, but I don’t realize when I do, that it also causes him to move his hand off of my thigh. I may have whimpered a little, because he grins and kisses the corner of my mouth.

  We keep our gaze locked and he gently strokes my face with his fingertips, trailing over every part of it. He never looks away and he keeps his eyes locked on mine, even when he dips his head to plant kisses around the edges of my lips. The way he looks at me makes me feel...I try to search for an adjective to follow up that thought, but I can’t find one. He just makes me feel. He’s the only boy that’s ever cared whether or not I’m feeling anything at all, and for that alone, I let him steal another small piece of my heart. But it doesn’t feel like enough, because I unexpectedly want to give it all to him.

  “Holder,” I breathe. He slides his hands up my waist and moves closer to me.

  “Sky,” he says, mimicking my tone. His mouth reaches my lips and he slips his tongue inside. It’s sweet and warm and I know it hasn’t been very long since I last tasted it, but I’ve missed it. His hands are on either side of my head and he’s being careful not to touch me with any part of his hands or his body now. Only his mouth.

  “Holder,” I mumble, pulling away. I bring my hand to his cheek. “I want to. Tonight. Right now.”

  His expression doesn’t change. He stares at me like he didn’t hear me. Maybe he didn’t hear me, because he certainly isn’t taking me up on the offer.

  “Sky…” His voice is full of hesitation. “We don’t have to. I want you to be absolutely positive it’s what you want. Okay?” He’s caressing my cheek now. “I don’t want to rush you into anything.”

  “I know that. But I’m telling you I want this. I’ve never wanted it with anyone before, but I want it with you.”

  His eyes are trained on mine and he’s soaking in every single word I’ve said. He’s either in denial or shock, neither of which are helping my cause. I take both of my hands and place them on his cheeks, then pull his lips in close to mine. “This isn’t me saying yes, Holder. This is me saying please.”

  With that, his lips crash to mine and he groans. Hearing that sound come from deep within his chest further solidifies my decision. I need him and I need him now.

  “We’re really doing this?” he says into my mouth, still kissing me frantically.

  “Yes. We’re really doing this. I’ve never been more positive of anything in my life.”

  His hand slips up my thigh and he slips his hand between my hip and my panties, then begins to slide them down.

  “I just need you to promise me one thing first,” I say.

  He kisses me softly, then pulls his hand away from my underwear (dammit) and nods. “Anything, baby.”

  I grab his hand and put it right back where it was on my hip. “I want to do this, but only if you promise we’ll break the record for the best first time in the history of first times.”

  He grins down at me. “When it’s you and me, Sky…it’ll never be anything less.”

  He snakes his arm underneath my back and pulls me up with him. His hands move to my arms and he hooks his fingers underneath the thin straps of my dress, sliding them off my shoulders. I close my eyes tightly and press my cheek to his, fisting my hands in his hair. I can feel his breath meet my shoulder before his lips do. He barely kisses it, but it’s as if he to
uches and ignites every part of me from the inside out with that one kiss.

  “I’m taking it off.” My eyes are still closed and I’m not sure if he’s telling me or asking my permission to remove the dress, but I nod anyway. He lifts my dress up and over my head—my bare skin prickling beneath his touch. He gently lays me back against my pillow and I open my eyes, looking up at him, admiring just how incredibly beautiful he really is. After regarding me intensely for several seconds, he drops his gaze to his hand that’s curved around my waist.

  He slowly moves his eyes up and down my body. “Holy shit, Sky.” He runs his hand over my stomach, then leans down and kisses it softly. “You’re incredible.”

  I’ve never been this exposed in front of someone before, but the way he’s admiring me only makes me want to be this exposed. He slides his hand up to my bra and grazes his thumb just underneath it—causing my lips to part and my eyes to close again.

  Oh my, God, I want him. Really, really bad.

  I grab his face and pull it to mine, locking my legs around his hips. He groans and slips his hand away from my bra and down to my waist again. He slides my panties down my thighs, forcing me to unlock my legs and let him take them off completely. My bra is quick to follow and once all of my clothes have been removed, he scoots his legs off the bed and halfway stands up, leaning over me. I’ve still got hold of his face and we’re still frantically kissing while he removes his pants, then climbs back onto the bed with me, lowering himself on top of me. We’re skin to skin now for the first time, so close that air couldn’t even pass between us, yet it still feels like we aren’t near close enough. He reaches across the mattress and his hand fumbles over the nightstand. He removes a condom out of the drawer, then lays it down on the bed, lowering himself on top of me again. The hardness and weight of him forces my legs further apart. I wince when I realize the anticipation in my stomach is suddenly turning into dread.

  And nausea.

  And fear.

  My heart is racing and my breaths begin to come in short gasps. Tears sting at my eyes as his hand moves around beside us on the bed, searching for the condom. He finds it and I hear him open it, but I’m squeezing my eyes shut. I can feel him pull back and lift up onto his knees. I know he’s putting it on and I know what comes next. I know how it feels and I know how much it hurts and I know how it’ll make me cry when it’s over.

  But how do I know? How do I know if I’ve never done this before?

  My lips begin to tremble when he positions himself between my legs again. I try to think of something to take away the fear, so I visualize the sky and the stars and how beautiful it all is, attempting to ease my panic. If I remind myself that the sky is beautiful no matter what, I can think about that and forget how ugly this is. I don’t want to open my eyes, so I just count silently inside my head. I visualize the stars above my bed and I start from the bottom of the cluster, working my way up.

  One, two, three…

  I count and I count and I count.

  Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…

  I hold my breath and focus, focus, focus on the stars.

  Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine…

  I want him to be done already. I just want him off of me.

  Seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy-

  “Dammit, Sky!” Holder yells. He’s pulling my arm away from my eyes. I don’t want him to make me look, so I hold my arm tighter against my face so everything will stay dark and I can keep silently counting.

  All of the sudden, my back is being lifted up in the air and I’m not against the pillow anymore. My arms are limp and his are wrapped tightly around me, but I can’t move. My arms are too weak and I’m sobbing too hard. I’m crying so hard and he’s moving me and I don’t know why so I open my eyes. I’m going back and forth and back and forth and for a second, I panic and squeeze my eyes shut, thinking he’s not finished. But I can feel the covers around me and his arm is squeezing my back and he’s soothing my hair with his hand, whispering in my ear.

  “Baby, it’s okay.” He’s pressing his lips into my hair, rocking me back and forth with him. I open my eyes again and tears are clouding my vision. “I’m sorry, Sky. I’m so sorry.”

  He’s kissing the side of my head over and over while he rocks me, telling me he’s sorry. He’s apologizing for something. Something he wants me to forgive him for this time.

  He pulls back and sees that my eyes are open. His eyes are red but I don’t see any tears. He’s shaking though. Or maybe it’s me who’s shaking. I think we’re both shaking.

  He’s looking into my eyes, searching for something. Searching for me. I begin to relax in his arms, because when his arms are wrapped around me, I don’t feel like I’m falling off the edge of the earth. “What happened?” I ask him. I don’t understand where this is coming from.

  He shakes his head, his eyes full of sorrow and fear and regret. “I don’t know. You just started counting and crying and shaking and I kept trying to get you to stop, Sky. You wouldn’t stop. You were terrified. What did I do? Tell me baby, because I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry. What the fuck did I do?”

  I just shake my head because I don’t have an answer.

  He grimaces and drops his forehead to mine. “I’m so sorry. I never should have let it go that far. I don’t know what the hell just happened, but you’re not ready yet, okay?”

  I’m not ready yet?

  “So we didn’t…we didn’t have sex?”

  His hands loosen around me and I can feel his whole demeanor shift. The look in his eyes is nothing but loss and defeat. His eyebrows draw apart and he frowns, cupping my cheeks. “Where’d you go, Sky?”

  I shake my head, confused. “I’m right here. I’m listening.”

  “No, I mean earlier. Where’d you go? You weren’t here with me because no, nothing happened. I could see on your face that something was wrong, so I didn’t do it. But now you need to think long and hard about where you were inside that head of yours, because you were panicked. You were hysterical and I need to know what it was that took you there so I can make sure you never go back.”

  He kisses me on the forehead and releases his hold from around my back. He stands up and pulls his jeans on, then picks up my dress. He shakes it out, then flips it over until it slides down his hands, then he walks toward me and puts it on over my head. He lifts my arms and helps me slide them into the dress, then he pulls it down over my waist, covering me. “I’ll go get you some water. I’ll be right back.” He kisses me tentatively on the lips, almost as if he’s scared to touch me again. After he walks out of the room, I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes.

  I have no idea what just happened, but the fear of losing him because of it is a valid one. I just took one of the most intimate things imaginable, and I turned it into a disaster. I made him feel worthless, like he did something wrong and now he feels bad for me because of it. He probably wants me to leave, and I don’t blame him. I don’t blame him a bit. I want to run away from me, too.

  I throw the covers off and stand up, then pull my dress down. I don’t even bother looking for my underwear. I need to find the bathroom and get myself together so he can take me home. This is twice this weekend that I’ve been deduced to tears and I don’t even know why—and twice that he’s had to save me. I’m not doing it to him again.

  When I pass the stairs looking for the restroom, I glance down over the railing into the kitchen. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on the bar and his face buried in his hands. He’s just standing there, looking miserable and upset. I can’t watch him anymore, so I open the first door to my right, assuming it’s the bathroom.

  It’s not.

  It’s Lesslie’s bedroom. I start to pull the door shut, but I don’t. Instead, I open it wider and slip inside, then shut it behind me. I don’t care if I’m in a bathroom, a bedroom or a closet…I just need peace and quiet. Time to regroup from whatever the hell is going on with me. I’m beginning to think that
maybe I am crazy. I’ve never spaced out that severely before and it terrifies me. My hands are still shaking, so I clasp them together in front of me and try to focus on something else in order to calm myself down.

  I take in my surroundings and find the bedroom to be somewhat disturbing. The bed isn’t made, which strikes me as odd. Holder’s entire house is spotless, but Lesslie’s bed isn’t made. There’s a pair of jeans in the middle of the floor and it looks like she just stepped out of them. I look around at the room and it seems typical of a teenage girl. Makeup on the dresser, an iPod on the nightstand. It looks like she still lives here. From the look of her room, it doesn’t look like she’s gone at all. It’s obvious no one has touched this room since she died. Her pictures are all still hanging on the walls and stuck to her vanity mirror. All of her clothes are still in her closet, some piled in the closet floor. It’s been over a year since he said she passed away, and I’m willing to bet that no one in his family has accepted it yet.

  It feels eerie being in here, but it’s keeping my mind off of what’s happening right now. I walk to the bed and look at the pictures hanging on the wall. Most of them are of Lesslie and her friends with just a few of Holder and her together. She looks a lot like Holder with his intense, crystal blue eyes and dark brown hair. What surprises me the most is how happy she looks. She looks so content and full of life in every single picture, it’s hard to imagine what was really going on inside of her head. No wonder Holder didn’t have a clue about how desolate she really felt. She more than likely never let anyone know.

  I pick up a picture from her nightstand that’s turned facedown. When I flip it over and look at it, I gasp. It’s a picture of her kissing Grayson on the cheek and they have their arms around each other. The picture stuns me and I have to take a seat on the bed to regain my bearings. This is why Holder hates him so much? This is why he didn’t want him touching me? I wonder if he blames Grayson for what she did.