by Monica Cole
“I’m guessing that’s your subtle way of telling me I can’t pull off wearing only a towel?” he jokes, trailing close behind me.
“I’m not being subtle. You look ridiculous.” I crane my head more to see his reaction. He’s smiling, a big toothy grin between two unevenly placed dimples.
“I think you meant to say sexy. Actually, I know you did.”
We’re at my bedroom door now. I turn, making sure he sees the look I give him. “You know what I said. Although, I see it didn’t deflate your ego any.”
He rolls his tongue in his cheek, brown eyes centered on mine as he takes a step forward. I press my back against the door but still feel him as if we’re touching.
“That’s because I know you didn’t mean it,” he says cockily. There’s this challenging look in his eyes, like he’s daring me to deny it. He’s too close, and I’m too nervous to trust myself to speak. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, and he looks at my mouth, the same way he did at the theater. It’s a wonder my clothes aren’t dry from the heat raging inside my body. It’s like I’m being consumed by it. By heat and dirty thoughts of Canyon, naked and wrapped up in a towel. Of him pushing me up against the door, kissing me with those lips. The lips that almost touched mine earlier.
Holy shit.
I spin around and throw my door open. My heart is pounding. I’m breathing hard. I bet he can hear me. God, I hope he can’t hear me. I run to my dresser, keeping my back to him while I take long deep breaths. I grab a t-shirt, a pair of underwear with some cats on them and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. Then I run to the bathroom to change. I sneak into Parker's room and quietly grab Canyon a t-shirt and gym shorts, making sure Parker is good and covered up before I slip out.
“Here,” I toss the clothes at Canyon who is sitting on my bed, going through my iPod. “Please change out of that towel that you look nowhere near sexy in.”
"Dressed to Kill" by New Found Glory plays through the speakers. He sets my iPod back on the dock and smiles, “Since you said please.”
He saunters over to my closet, partially closing the door behind him. This is the second time in ten minutes he’s been naked in my house. It’s doing bad things to me. Making me think things I shouldn’t.
“Is this better?” He comes out, tossing the wet towel over the door. Parker’s clothes fit him perfectly, although I’m partial to the way they look on Canyon. Especially the Rise Against t-shirt I unknowingly snagged.
“I don’t know,” I muse. “A killer could probably mistake you for a slut in that outfit.”
He laughs and crawls onto the bed, collapsing beside me then reaches up and tickles my side. I squirm and slap him in the chest.
“Stop that. I hate being tickled.”
He folds his arms behind his head. The bottom of his shirt lifts up, revealing a sliver of skin. I keep my eyes on the ceiling.
“Well, I hate being called a slut.”
“Fine. Skank.”
He growls and the next thing I know, he’s on top of me, tickling me so hard I’m trying not to scream.
“Stop it!” I say through a choke of laughter. He pins my arms above my head and attacks my stomach. I twist and thrash underneath him, trying to kick him off. I knee him in the stomach which makes him release my hands then make an attempt to roll off the bed. It doesn’t work. He grabs my ankles and flips me over before sliding off the bed and tumbling on top of me.
“Get off me!” I laugh, shoving against his chest. His legs fall off the bed with a bang, landing on either side of me.
“Not until you apologize,” he says. He props himself up on his arms with a smug look.
I shake my head defiantly.
“Suit yourself,” he shrugs a shoulder, and before I can react, he’s tickling me again. I’m in hysterics, clawing at his hands. He’s relentless and kind of sexy with his deep throated laughter floating around us.
“Canyon, please stop. You know there’s such thing as people being tickled to death, right?”
He stops, lips smashed together thoughtfully. “Hmm. Never heard that. Maybe I should test it and see if it’s true.”
I latch onto his hand as it slides across my stomach. “Please stop,” I beg breathlessly.
He rests his tongue on his bottom lip, fingers toying with the bottom of my shirt. He looks lost in thought, and I’m suddenly curious what he’s thinking.
“Can I tell you something?”
I nod, even though the look on his face has me nervous about what he wants to say.
He rests his elbows beside my head, staring down at me. “I’m glad you changed your mind about seeing the movie with me tonight.”
I press my lips together not sure how to answer. “Um. You’re welcome?”
“I’m serious. Do you know how long it’s taken me to convince you to go to the movies with me? I’m glad you finally caved because I really enjoyed watching people get their guts ripped out with you. We need to do that more often.”
I scrunch up my nose. “No thanks.”
He shifts, and as if they have a mind of their own, my legs fall open, allowing him to sink further into me. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t like theaters that’s why.”
“Reason.”
“What?”
“Give me a reason why you don’t like theaters,” he demands, sliding off until he’s lying on his back beside me. Our knuckles touch, one of his fingers lightly rubbing mine.
“Do I need one?”
“No. But I know you have one.”
I sigh, “Fine. The reason I don’t like them is because it’s where everyone our age goes to make out or to attempt getting to second base. They don’t even watch the movie. It’s irritating.”
Canyon throws his head back, shaking with laughter. “Seriously? That’s why you hate theaters?” he asks, chuckling lightly now. He rolls to his side and props himself up with his elbow, so he’s hovering over me. “It’s just people kissing, Elle. I don’t see what the big deal is.” He reaches over, ignoring my scowl as he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Besides, you have no room to judge. You’ve probably done the same thing yourself.”
At the mention of kissing, my eyes drop to his mouth. Back up. His eyes scan my face, and even though it wasn’t a question, I know he’s waiting for me to say something.
“Not exactly,” I say. I really, really wish he’d drop this.
“Okay, maybe not in a theater since you hate them so much. Doesn’t really matter where if you’ve done it in public.”
I fix my eyes on the ceiling. My cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and I know they’re giving everything away.
“Hold on,” Canyon’s face appears above mine, eyebrows stitched together like he’s severely confused. Or shocked. He curls two fingers under my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Have you never been kissed?”
Oh my god. Just kill me now. The heat in my cheeks disperses through my body. I’m trying to think of a moment more embarrassing than this, but I don’t think there’s anything more humiliating than Canyon finding out I’ve never kissed someone before.
I turn my head, so his hand falls away and continue staring at the ceiling. I kind of wish it would collapse and bury me in all my kissing virgin shame.
Canyon sits up, crossing his legs Indian style. He’s looking at me, and that makes me nervous, because I know he’s doing that thing where he’s seeing past me, scaling invisible walls to try and figure out what I’m thinking.
“You’ve seriously never been kissed before?” he asks, obviously taking my silence as a yes.
I cover my face with both hands. “I wish you’d quit saying that.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No,” I answer softy.
He’s quiet for a minute. “Why?”
I take my hands off my face, letting them rest above my head. The bottom of my shirt rises up, and I follow Canyon’s gaze to the skin showing above my shorts. I swallow hard, my stomach shrinking in on itself. The
way he’s looking at me is lethal. I can already feel my heart struggling in my chest, frantic and out of rhythm.
“I don’t know. I guess guys never thought I was worth kissing,” I say, even though that’s far from the truth. Plenty of guys have tried to kiss me, but I’ve always pushed them away. I’m not a prude. I’m just…I don’t know what I am. I’m not waiting for ‘the one’ but I guess I am waiting for someone I feel something for. Sparks. Fireworks. Electricity. Whatever it is people feel in romance novels that makes them want to kiss someone.
Canyon’s eyes move back to my face, darker and more intimidating than they were before. “I don’t think that’s the problem,” he says assuredly.
“How would you know?”
“I just know.”
“That’s not an answer,” I point out but he just shrugs. I reach down, tugging my shirt into place. “I don’t see what the big deal is anyways. It’s just a kiss.”
“Says the person who’s never been kissed before.”
I shoot him a menacing look that he pretends not to notice. “I’m only saying you wouldn’t think it’s just a kiss if you knew what kissing was like.”
I drum my fingers on my stomach until the question slips off the tip of my tongue. “What is it like?”
He looks down at me, and I don’t miss the quick glance he steals at my mouth. “I don’t think words do it justice.”
“So basically at this rate, I’ll never know.”
Canyon sits up until he’s leaning over me, his knees pressing into my side. “Elle, I promise you, one day some guy is going kiss you and when he does, he’ll be one lucky son of a bitch.”
My heart stutters at his words. He sounds so confident. Like he’s agreeing that if he ever had the chance to kiss me, he’d feel lucky too.
I open my mouth to say something but as soon as I do, Canyon’s thumb is on my bottom lip and I instantly forget what words are or how to use them. My brain flat lines, meaning I’m thinking solely with my heart. I don’t have to be a genius to know that’s an incredibly dangerous thing. Especially around Canyon.
“I still can’t believe no one’s ever kissed you,” he says, almost like he’s musing to himself. His thumb moves back and forth across my lips, tracing their shape. Slow and then slower. Driving me crazy. All this talk about kissing has me curious about what I’m missing out on, and it’s not helping that Canyon is playing with my mouth like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Didn’t we just have this conversation?” I ask, and I almost cringe at how breathy my voice comes out. Now that I think about it, I’m having a hard time getting air into my lungs at all because the only thing I can manage are these quick, shallow breaths that aren’t doing any good.
He licks his lips, finger stilling at the center of my mouth. “We did. I’m just confused why no guy has had his mouth on yours before.” The tip of his thumb curls inside my lip, dragging it down. “You have the kind of lips that make guys think about kissing.”
Oh. My. God.
Sparks. Fireworks. Electricity. Everything I’ve been waiting to feel for the last eighteen years of my life ignite inside of me in an instant. I’ve always been attracted to Canyon but this goes beyond attraction or like or lust. It’s that emotional connection Canyon was talking about that night at the cove which only makes this more complicated. I’m so screwed. I quickly remind myself of the discussion I had with myself in the bathroom at the theater. The one about not even entertaining the idea of kissing Canyon because we’re friends. Now here I am, not just thinking about kissing him but using tongue and hands and any other body part of mine that can touch his.
My head is so jumbled with thoughts that I don’t even notice Canyon has moved until his arm is resting beside my head and the top half of his body is hovering over mine. I’m breathing so hard it hurts and when he swallows, the muscle spasming in his jaw, my heart nearly rips right through my chest. He leans in, pausing inches above my face. His lips so full and perfect and close. If I lifted my head the slightest bit…
“I should probably go see if my clothes are dry. I think the rain has stopped, and I still need to pick up gas for my truck.”
He removes his finger from my mouth and the fireworks fizzle out. He swiftly climbs to his feet and offers his hand to help me up but I don’t think I can move. The only part of my body that’s still moving is my heart, beating wild and out of control.
Finally, I reach for his hand and he lifts me up. Our eyes meet, and I can almost feel something intangible pass between us before it dissipates, leaving me to wonder if he felt it too.
“I guess I’ll see you later.” Canyon is standing by the door, running a hand through his slightly damp hair.
I sit on the edge of my bed. “Okay. Be careful.”
He smiles while dragging his teeth over his bottom lip and the fireworks start all over again. “You worried I’ll run into a serial killer on the way?”
“Let’s hope not. I won’t be there to protect you.”
“Oh yea?” He laughs.
I walk over to where he’s standing and open the door. “Yea,” I agree, pushing him playfully. He grips my arm and steers me around until my back presses against the wall and we’re right back to where we left off minutes ago. With him too close and tension so thick, I feel like I’m suffocating.
“I had fun tonight,” he says, voice so deep I can hear it rumbling in his chest.
I swallow hard. “You said that already.”
For the thousandth time tonight his eyes flick to my mouth, and I’m on the verge of telling him there are other things he can do than just look at it.
“Can I not tell you more than once?” he asks.
“I guess so.”
“Good. Cause I really did have fun.” He winks and steps back. I take a deep breath.
“I’ll see you later,” I say as he walks out of the room and into the hallway.
He faces me with a look that’s hard to decipher. “Goodnight, Elle.”
He disappears into the living room, and I quietly shut my bedroom door.
Yea, I guess it was.
Chapter Eleven
“Now, this is my kind of summer.” Whitney sighs happily from beside me. We’re lounged out by her in-ground pool, bikinis and sunglasses on, soaking up the late afternoon sun. Whitney is improving her already perfectly bronzed tan, but I’m having to check my pasty white skin every ten minutes just to make sure I’m not burning. I’ve been coming over almost every day this week- not because I’m avoiding Canyon- because there’s only so much T.V. I can watch before feeling like my brain is turning to mush and about to leak out my nose. So we’ve spent the majority of our time working on our tans, swimming in her salt water pool, and drinking her mom’s homemade lemonade by the glassful.
Whitney’s phone beeps, alerting us that it’s time to roll to our stomachs. She said it’s crucial that you switch positions every twenty minutes to ensure the perfect tan. It seems to be working though. My skin has gained some color since we started, although I did burn pretty bad the first day. Before I lie down, I finish off the last of my lemonade, then tilt the glass up to eat the ice. It does little to cool me off from the heat, but I’m used to the suffocating humidity that comes with living in the south.
As if sensing our glasses are empty, Whitney’s mom emerges from the sliding glass doors, holding a pitcher of lemonade.
“You girls need a refill?”
We both sit up, and she laughs as we eagerly extend our glasses towards her.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she says, filling both glasses to the brim. “I just frosted a strawberry cake, too, so whenever ya’ll are finished, come on in, and I’ll get you a slice.”
I take a long drink and look at Whitney. “Why did you move away from here again?”
“She’s only like this when we have company,” She scoffs and her mom’s mouth widens in offense.
“Whitney Davis, that is not true. Besides, Elaine isn’t company
. She’s family.”
“Yea, and gets treated better than I do.”
Mrs. Davis and I both roll our eyes.
“Well if that’s what you think then, Elaine, I’ll have the biggest slice of cake waiting for you inside.” She gives me a wink and walks away. I snicker at the hurt look on Whitney’s face.
“You know she’s going to give us equal slices so quit looking like you just got thrown under the rug.”
Whitney pouts as she lays down on her stomach. I’m about to do the same when my phone starts ringing. I lean over and retrieve it from the table, immediately recognizing the number even though there’s no name.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Canyons deep voice floods through the speaker, “what are you doing?”
I lay down on my stomach, ignoring when Whitney mouths ‘Who is it?’
“Nothing too interesting,” I reply.
“Good.” His voice sounds far away, like he has me on speaker. “That means you can’t say no.”
“Say no to what?” I ask hesitantly.
“I was wondering if you want to come over tonight to watch a movie.” He pauses, cussing under his breath. “Sorry. I just got back from the store. I thought if I cooked you dinner you couldn’t say no.”
I smile slightly. “You know the way to my heart. Give me food and I’ll coming running.”
“So is that a yes?”
I smash my lips together, considering. We just got back on speaking terms barely two weeks ago. Having dinner with him is taking a giant leap when we should be taking baby steps. “I don’t know,” I reply slowly.
He doesn’t answer immediately but I can still hear him making noise in the background. “It’s just dinner, Elle, but I’m not going to push it. If you don’t want to come, that’s fine. But just so you know, the offer still stands, and I bought chocolate cheesecake.”
Son of a bitch.
“You’re a dirty cheat. You know I can’t turn down cheesecake.”
“Exactly.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “So can you meet at my place at 7:00? I’ll text you directions.”
“Wait, you have your own place now?” I ask, completely surprised by this. “I thought you were still living at home with your dad.”