“Okay.”
He drew a slow breath. “I want you at the games.”
Summer sighed. They’d had this conversation a thousand times. How could he not understand that watching him get beaten to death wasn’t her idea of fun? She felt as though her entire world were lying on that field during the first game, each second he lay still crushed into her heart unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. If she didn’t see him getting hurt, then she could pretend it didn’t happen. “There are thousands of girls on this campus who would love to watch you play. Seek out one of them.”
Blake placed his hands over hers, stopping her fingers mid-motion. “I don’t want them there. I want you. I need you. It relaxes me.”
“Yeah, well, it terrifies me,” Summer admitted.
“Ah, come on, Summer Rain, you know it’s all perception. It just looks bad,” Blake said, tossing out the nickname he’d coined for her when they were little. They’d been in her bedroom, playing her used PlayStation, and suddenly a massive thunderstorm rolled in. She felt sure the wind would rip away the rusted walls of her home and suck her and Blake both into a twister that would make Dorothy’s seem like nothing more than a breeze. Blake had wrapped his arm around her shaking shoulders and pulled her close. “Nothing but a little summer rain,” he had said, and somehow the name stuck.
“Tell that to your headache.”
It was Blake’s turn to sigh. “Just do this for me. Please.”
Summer focused back on the massage, pushing his hands back down. “Ask one of the girls I’ve seen you with around campus. Surely if they’re good enough for your bed, they’re good enough to be your good luck charms at the games.” Summer immediately felt her face burn. Why had she said that? She and Blake rarely ever talked about their relationships. It was one of those awkward subjects they tried to avoid. Like his dad shooting himself or her mom leaving.
Blake’s gaze fixed back on her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
He sat up and faced her. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m just some dickhead fucking half the campus? Using my name to get girls to drop their pants?”
Summer shook her head. “No. I just . . . no.”
Blake’s face grew tense, and then he blurted out, “I’m a virgin, Summer. A virgin.”
Summer’s eyes widened as she searched his face for some hint that he was joking, but found nothing. “Are you serious?” she asked, though she already knew by his face that he was.
Blake, her best friend, the one she trusted most in the world, was a virgin. Suddenly, a world of possibilities raced through her mind. If he had saved himself for her, as she had for him, then maybe—
She shook her head, ending the thought before it fully materialized. He hadn’t saved himself for her. So if not her, then . . . “Why?”
He stood up, pulled off his Georgia T-shirt, and reached into his dresser drawer for another one. They had changed in front of each other a thousand times, but suddenly this new piece of information changed all of that. She took in his body in a different way. His cut chest and stomach. His arms, which had turned into cannons overnight.
“That one smelled like smoke from riding with Jamison,” Blake said to Summer’s obvious stare. “It was driving me crazy.” He stopped in front of her. “So you want to know why? I guess before I answer this, I should know whether or not you’re one. I suppose by your reaction you’re not.”
Summer contemplated. Admitting she, too, was a virgin would undoubtedly further this tension between them, and she wasn’t sure she could handle where it might lead. But it was Blake, and she had never lied to him before. “I’m one, too. You know, a virgin.” She pulled her knees to her chest and stared over them, wishing they’d had this conversation back at Carl’s Mobile Park, where they’d grown up, instead of here, where everything was so different.
Blake opened his mouth to respond, when a slow knock came from his door, and then a sexy voice said, “Delivery for the quarterback.”
Blake rolled his eyes and went for the door. “Look I’m a little busy,” he said, opening the door, but then two girls were rushing in, giggling, half dressed and clearly ready to make The Great BB’s dreams come true.
Blake held the door open. “Out,” he said to them, but they were either too drunk or didn’t care. He reached for one and she pulled him toward her on the bed, Blake fighting to get free without hurting her.
Summer sighed as she edged off Blake’s bed, which the girls had clearly decided to invade. “Look, you’re busy. I’ll see ya later,” she said, slipping out the door before Blake could argue. She rushed through the crowded apartment and out into the night air, feeling like she could finally breathe again.
She started her walk to her dorm, glad the night was warm for early fall, her mind on what Blake had told her. He couldn’t be a virgin, she thought, not with a constant offering of free sex thrown at him everywhere he went. He was a guy, after all. She had just convinced herself that he’d been exaggerating, when she heard her name called from behind. She whipped around to see Blake running toward her.
“Jesus Christ, Summer, you can’t walk home at night. How many times have I told you that? Those bastards in my apartment are tame compared to some of the guys I know.”
Summer crossed her arms. “And as I’ve told you, I’m fine. I carry Mace.”
“Mace?” Blake repeated with sarcasm. “You’re a hundred-pound body. They’d get you down before you could reach for that shit.”
Summer knew there was no point arguing, so she started back toward her dorm, Blake falling in step beside her. They walked in silence for a long time, before she was unable to hold back her questions any longer. “Were you serious back there?”
“Completely,” Blake said, without hesitation.
She waited, then said the most honest thing she could. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”
Blake nodded. “You have no idea. I get there are dudes that want to wait until they’re married or whatever, but that isn’t me. I feel like . . .”
“A child,” Summer finished for him. She, too, felt like a child. Like there was a part of her she’d been holding on to and now that she was there, in college, she felt desperate to let it go. The problem was she didn’t want to just let it go to some drunken guy on some drunken night. That wasn’t her. Never had been. She glanced over at Blake, his gaze focused on the road in front of him, and an idea occurred to her. What if they lost it to each other? They had been friends forever. They could do it without their friendship becoming complicated. Right? She had been pushing aside her feelings for Blake forever. Sex wouldn’t change anything. It would be a simple act, and then they would both be free. The thought continued to churn in her mind, growing more and more logical. More and more exciting.
They reached her dorm building, and she peered over at Blake. She had never been one to hold back, but this . . . this was different. She adjusted her footing from one foot to the other.
“What is it?” Blake said, picking up on her unease.
Summer opened her mouth. Say it. Just say it. What is he going to do? Laugh? Not likely. But he could grimace, which would be horrifying in every way. She closed her mouth back, and he took a step toward her. The step was nothing out of the ordinary, but something in the way he positioned his body, the way he leaned just a little bit into her, made it almost intimate. “Tell me,” Blake said.
Summer looked up, her heart torn, and then the words were tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. “What if we lost it to each other?”
Five
BLAKE STRAIGHTENED, EVERY thought in his brain trying to work through what Summer had said. “Did you say what I think you said?”
She looked away uncomfortably, and then back at him as though deciding in that moment that she was serious. Committed. “It doesn’t have to be awkward. Just a friend helping another friend out.”
Blake drew a slow breath and released it, his eyes never leaving Summer’s. The thou
ght made his insides heat up, his body dying to take another step toward her, but he resisted. If they were going to do this, really do this, it had to be planned out and practical. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure once he had her in his arms that he would be able to let go. He thought of his grandmother’s words about sex, about the likelihood of pregnancy. “Are you . . .” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Are you still on the pill? I remember you used to take it for cramps or something, right? Shit. This is . . .” He turned around, needing a moment to think, to breathe, without Summer’s tempting face staring back at him.
She went around him, forcing him to face her. “Yes. But we could use extra stuff, ya know? Statistically, the pill is only like ninety-nine percent effective, so maybe if we used a condom, too, then we’d close that one percent gap.” Her face crinkled up in deep thought as she contemplated the risk, and Blake burst out laughing.
“What?” she asked, punching his arm.
“Nothing. It’s just most students here don’t think this much. It’s just sex, right? Animals do it.”
Summer focused on Blake, their eyes locking. “So, we’re going to do it?”
Blake thought again about his grandmother’s words, the picture of his dad in his college football jersey. Could he take the risk? Then his gaze swept over Summer. If there was anyone worth the risk, it was she. “Yes. How about tomorrow night?”
“Sunday?” Summer blanched. “There has to be a better day to have sex than Sunday.”
Blake nodded. “Point taken. Friday night, then? I can make sure Jamison stays with one of his girls.”
Summer looked down, nervous again. “What if he comes home early?”
“He isn’t going to come into my bedroom.”
“But what if we’re . . .” She shook her head, her cheeks red even in the darkness. “Loud,” she whispered.
At that Blake’s dick became instantly hard. He put his hands in his pockets and tugged down his jeans to hide the evidence, but damn, the thought of Summer in his bed, being loud, was enough to drive him insane. “I’ll make sure he isn’t there,” Blake finally said.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Blake replied. “So, Friday night?”
“Friday night.”
Blake spent the rest of the week getting beaten up in practice and called out in class, his mind on one thing for the first time in his college experience—sex. And the fact that he would no longer be a virgin by the end of the week. He wondered if this would start an addiction, or something. Men claimed to become addicted to sex all the time, and then where would he be? His nerves kicked up, and he considered texting Summer that they should wait, but he didn’t want to be afraid of this anymore. It wasn’t just about being a man. It was about proving to himself that he was different from his dad. He could live his life outside his dad’s shadow. What was he supposed to do? Be a virgin for the rest of his life? That couldn’t be good for his game.
Friday came both too slowly and too quickly. He decided the best thing was to try to make it romantic, the kind of thing Summer would laugh at, but he couldn’t imagine opening his door and simply saying, “Ready?”
He got a cart at Wal-Mart, praying he wouldn’t see any of the guys, and started filling it up with condoms and K-Y jelly and some scented candles and shit. He glanced down at the cart mid-aisle and shook his head. He was acting like a chick. Dudes didn’t buy scented candles. What the fuck was wrong with him?
He reached down to put back the candles, and then sat them back down. This wasn’t just any girl. This was Summer, and she deserved for him to try. He continued on, grabbing a few things here and there. He went to self-checkout and bagged up his things, then glanced at his watch.
Summer would be at his apartment in an hour.
Six
SUMMER SAT OUTSIDE Blake’s apartment, staring up at the light on from his second story window, and wondering if she was making a mistake. She remembered the hurt she felt when her mother left her at home and said she was going to get groceries and would be right back. She was just six years old and so scared, but she loved her mom, and so she stayed home, watching out the window as hour by hour passed and day turned into night. Finally, her dad came home to find Summer curled on the couch crying, petrified. He scooped her into his arms and asked where her mother was, but Summer was crying too hard to explain. He carried her with him through the house as he called for her mother, then sat Summer down and gently wiped her tears away. “Where is she, baby?” he had asked. And that was when Summer found strength for the first time in her life. She looked her father in the eyes and told him that she went to the store that morning . . . and never came back.
Summer’s father called the police at first, worried that something had happened, but then he spoke to Summer’s grandmother, her mother’s mother, and they knew she wasn’t missing, she had left. She never came back again.
The memory made Summer’s hands shake, and she rubbed them together to try to calm herself. This wasn’t her mother. This was Blake. He would never hurt her. He would never abandon her. Yet, in the back of her mind, she knew it was inevitable. Blake wasn’t just talented. He was superhuman on the field. Summer pretended to not care about football, so she could get away with missing his games, but the truth was, she enjoyed watching him play. He was smart on his feet, and he could pass a ball like no other quarterback in the country. They’d pegged him for the Heisman early on in the season, and each week he went higher in the polls. His numbers were unheard of, which all led to one hard fact—Blake Banks would go pro, and he would go pro with a team far away from Georgia.
Summer’s phone vibrated against the seat of her old Honda Accord, a graduation gift from her dad. She had no idea how many hours of overtime he had to work at the plant to buy it, but she’d never seen him happier than when he gave it to her. Summer picked up her phone and glanced first at the time—eight-o-five—and then at the text.
Blake: Are you standing me up? Then a smiley face.
She closed her eyes and breathed in and out. She wanted to do this. So why was she so afraid? Resigning herself that she wouldn’t be the scared little girl who had been curled up on her couch, she slipped out of her car and tucked her cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans. She reached his apartment faster than expected, considering how slowly she had walked, and dragged her palms over her jeans to wipe away the clamminess. She could do this. She would do this.
Summer raised her hand to knock on the door, just as Blake pulled it open, his face lighting up. Suddenly, all of her nerves from before melted away, and it was just he and she, simple as always.
Blake stepped back so she could come in. The smell of pizza caught her and the sound of Bob Marley. Other than her, the apartment was empty.
“Did you eat?” she asked.
Blake nodded toward the kitchen, his hands tucked into his low-hanging jeans. A fitted Georgia T-shirt stretched taut across his chest. God, he was sexy, Summer thought. She had always known he was hot, but knowing she was about to see him naked skyrocketed his attractiveness to another level. Hot no longer seemed sufficient. “No, I actually bought it for . . . after. You know, in case you were hungry.”
“Oh.” She stared into the kitchen, her mouth watering at the smell. She had been so wrapped up with what they were going to do, she had forgotten to each lunch. “What if we ate . . . before?” Summer eyed Blake, wondering if she was committing the equivalent of sexual suicide.
Blake nodded. “Um, sure. I’ll grab you a Coke.” He went to the fridge and bent over to grab the drink, and Summer couldn’t help taking in how great he looked from behind. She didn’t love the idea of watching him play, but she couldn’t argue with the results.
Blake turned around, his gaze on her, but she wasn’t seeing him. Not the way she normally saw him. Suddenly, she felt nervous around him, like she should have curled her hair or eyelashes or whatever it was that girls did when they wanted to impress a guy. This wasn’t part of the plan.
&nb
sp; “Are you all right?” Blake asked, his arm outstretched to hand her the Coke.
Summer shook herself from her dreary thoughts and focused on the pizza. Maybe she was just hungry. She sat down on Blake’s table, like always, and reached for a slice. “I’m nervous,” she admitted, knowing if she didn’t say it out loud the feeling would consume her.
Blake slowly swallowed the bite he’d been chewing. “Me too.”
“So . . . what do we do?” Summer asked as she picked at her slice. She no longer felt hungry.
Blake set down his slice, which like Summer’s had barely been touched. “Maybe we should just do it. Just dive in.”
Summer nodded. “Right.” She reached down and pulled her shirt off, exposing the simple white bra she had chosen. It had a tiny pink flower in the center, which made it the sexiest thing she owned. She pushed off the table and reached for her jeans, when Blake tossed up a hand to stop her.
“Wait.” His gaze dropped from her face to her barely covered breasts. He swallowed hard. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
“Oh.” Summer placed her hands on her hips. She had no idea why she didn’t feel uncomfortable with just her bra on and jeans, but somehow that wasn’t what had her worried. Even being naked didn’t worry her. It was what came after the naked, and she was ready to get started so her freakout could commence.
“Then what did you mean?”
Blake ran a hand over his cropped hair, pulling at the ends. “I meant that, but not, you know, like that.” He motioned to her. “I . . .” He shook his head. “I bought stuff. You know, mood stuff.”
“Mood stuff?”
Blake closed his eyes and reopened them as though needing a second to breathe. “Just . . . come with me to my room, okay?” Blake asked.
Summer left her shirt on the floor and followed him into his room. He was right. He had bought stuff. She watched as he lit a candle on each of his nightstands. Then, he clicked his iPod so Imagine Dragons would come on, because he knew she thought the lead singer’s voice was sexy. She smiled a little at his effort. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”
Fifty First Times Page 45