by Celeste, B.
My voice is hoarse. “Don’t remind me.”
His lips kick up on the corners.
After I swallow the pills, I hold the water bottle in my lap and stare down at my hands. The pad of my thumb runs down the ribbed sides, and I watch as little water droplets slide down the inside of the plastic.
“Thank you,” I find myself whispering.
His hand reaches over and takes mine. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m here for you.”
Without thinking, I flip my hand over so our palms cup each other’s. He squeezes my hand, and I squeeze my eyes closed. The heat from his touch eases the panic in my chest, but it doesn’t lessen the other feeling swarming my stomach.
The flutters.
The warning signs.
The alarms.
Our drive is silent.
Chapter Eighteen
Kinley / 16
The fogginess of being freshly woken by someone shaking my shoulder has my eyes peeling open to be met by silver ones. Body locking, I sit up and let the blanket wrapped around me fall into a bundle on my lap.
Thankfully, I’m sporting my decent pajamas instead of the ratty tee I originally had on before bed. I guess spilling hot chocolate over me had its perks.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper, rubbing my eyes and staring at the time on my clock. It’s not even one in the morning.
“I got it, Little Bird.”
I blink slowly, too tired to follow.
He sits down on the bed. “I got the role in the movie. Better. They’re going to give me a part that gets more screen time.”
My eyes widen and I’m suddenly awake as I launch myself at him in a tight hug. “Corbin! That is so amazing, congratulations. How did you find out? Did they call? Email? Facebook message? Morse code?”
“Morse—” He shakes his head and chuckles quietly, pulling away. “You’re nuts. No, Daniel called me about half an hour ago. He’s friends with one of the casting crew and wanted to tell me himself.”
I bounce on the bed and smile so big it physically hurts. “You’re going to be in a movie. A movie. Corbin Callum—actor.” My arms pebble with goosebumps. “People will want pictures and autographs and get all weird and giggly when they’re near you.”
“Whoa.” His smile is full of amusement as he shoves me over so he can sit beside me. “I wouldn’t get too ahead of ourselves. This is only a made for television movie, remember?”
I swat the back of my hand against his chest and lean into him, collecting the blanket and offering him some. He accepts and maneuvers under the covers, kicking his shoes off in the process.
“Lots of people watch those movies,” I tell him, my cheek resting on his shoulder. “Plus, it shouldn’t matter if it’s just made for TV. You’re still in a movie, on a screen, where anyone can watch. It’s insane.”
His lips find the top of my head, causing me to close my eyes and curl into him. “I was starting to think my dad was right.”
I straighten up and stare at him until he meets my eyes. “Don’t doubt yourself. I’ve watched you practice your lines so many times, Corbin. You’re amazing. A natural. This isn’t going to be the only part you get.”
He studies me for a second with those intense eyes before smiling. “You’re my biggest cheerleader, you know that?”
I playfully jab his ribs. “I’m your biggest fan, too. Tell all the screaming women that when you encounter them.”
“I’ll make a shirt,” he says seriously.
We sit like that for a moment, just watching each other in the tight proximity of my twin bed. The white down comforter has hair from our dog napping on it when I’m writing, and the many pillows I own are scattered on the floor instead of perched on the bed that way I have room to sleep. There’s a gray throw blanket that my Grandma gave me for my birthday last year that’s hanging off the edge of the mattress from my usual restlessness.
Resting back again, I give him a nudge with my shoulder. “You should really thank your parents. You’ve got the looks and the name. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re going to be everywhere. Then I can brag about you to everyone I know.”
“What about you, huh?”
“What about me?”
“You’re going to have books with your name out there for everyone to fangirl.” His hand finds mine over the blankets, our fingers playing tug-of-war.
“One day.”
“It’ll happen, Little Bird.”
“Mm.”
Sleepiness washes over me again.
“Kinley?”
I look up at him. “Yeah?”
His eyes dip down to my lips. “Thank you for being there for me. It means more than you know, especially with Dad…”
I wet my bottom lip. “You know I’ve got your back, superstar. And like I said before, your dad loves you. He’s just struggling.”
“And you?”
I blink. “You really have to ask?”
Instead of smiling, he leans in and bumps his nose with mine. His warm breath invites me to tilt my chin up and capture his lips the same time he brushes mine. One of his hands cradles my face as I sit there and absorb the minty taste of his breath. Collecting enough courage, I make a move to straddle his lap, forcing him to shift to the center of the bed so I have room. My knees rest on either side of him, his hands grasping my cotton-clad hips.
“Hey,” he whispers, squeezing me. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking right now. Talk to me, Little Bird.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I’m thinking that I’m happy for you. I’m excited you get to start living your dream. And I’m thinking … that I’m not thinking at all.”
My lips go to one cheek, then the other. Slowly, I trail them over his lips and leave a barely-there kiss like the first one he ever gave me. His fingertips twitch on my hips but stay where they are. Letting me explore, I wiggle on his lap until he bites back a groan. My spine straightens when I feel him harden beneath me. Our eyes meet and his cheeks pinken like mine.
“Corbin?”
I think his throat bobs. “Yeah?”
“Do you think … I mean, would it be okay if we, uh…” I lick my lips and feel my confidence wavering by the self-doubt increasing in the pit of my stomach.
His fingers find the hem of my shirt. “May I?” He tugs the material up, leaving my heart racing over what will happen if I say yes.
I nod in a daze, letting him peel the shirt off me and let it drop on the floor. His eyes widen as he takes in the sports bra I’m wearing. My boobs aren’t very big—barely a B cup. But he looks at them like he’s never seen something so beautiful, and my entire body blushes over the light in his eyes.
My hands go to his sweatshirt, the AC/DC one with the red lettering peeled and faded. He lifts his arms and lets me take it off him, revealing a thin sleeveless top underneath. I study his lean torso and how his breathing picks up. The bulge twitching under me grows harder the longer I stare.
Swallowing, I lift my gaze. “Show me what to do?” The question is soft, like a quiet demand as my pleading eyes stay unblinking on his.
He reaches behind him and takes off his shirt, tossing it on the floor with mine. My palms go to his bare skin, leaving goosebumps over my arms and shivers down his body as I explore. I know he sometimes runs, but he’s cut like he works out too—not overly muscular, but lean. Strong. Beautiful.
His mouth finds mine as he holds me to him, my pelvis grinding down involuntarily. He bites down on my bottom lip and groans the same time I let out a soft gasp. Carefully, he trades positions. My back hits the mattress as he sits up and plays with the hem of my pajama pants. Without words, he questions me with a tip of his head and raised brow.
All I can do is nod and watch as he slides down the bottoms, revealing the cotton panties underneath. They’re plain blue, lighter than my favorite color, and not very sexy. But he doesn’t seem to care because he’s focused on my body. I’m self-conscious as his eyes trail over me from top
to bottom, and hyperaware that my stomach and thighs show my love of sugar and carbs.
But. He. Doesn’t. Care.
“You’re beautiful, Little Bird.”
Oncoming emotion washes over me, leaving tears in my eyes. His appearance blurs, but I can see the worry in his features.
“Do you want to stop?” Withdrawing, he watches me carefully, unsure.
“No. I just…” I wipe my face as the tears leak down my cheeks. “I’m sorry. Nobody has ever called me that before and it’s … nice. More than nice.”
His smile graces his face. “It’s the truth. You’re beautiful and you’re mine. Right, Kinley? You’re mine?”
I swallow. “Yours.”
It seems like the rest of our clothes disappear in a blur of fumbling hands and soft curses. He nearly trips when he takes off his jeans and stumbles when I help him get my bra off. We stare intensely at each other when we’re completely exposed, and I have the need to cover my body with the comforter because of it.
He doesn’t let me though. When he climbs on the bed, he kisses me softly, intently, with purpose. Murmuring compliments, making me blush, his fingers trail over my naked skin and make me squirm. Heat rises between my legs when his hands draw nearer to a place only mine has ever been.
“We can stop,” he reminds me.
My hands grip his shoulders. “Do you think we’re moving too fast? It’s only been a few weeks since we even admitted we like each other. And we just talked about the whole inexperience thing and kissing and Sabrina Christy and—”
“You remember her name?” He chuckles.
“Yeah.”
He shakes his head, kissing me again. “I don’t think we know how to go slow, Little Bird. We’re meant to soar. Fly. Do what we want. You and I defy all odds, don’t you think?”
I take a deep breath and find myself nodding again, cupping his face and tracing his features as he watches me.
He captures my lips with his again and whispers, “Fly with me, Little Bird.”
And I do.
The moment is slow and painful and awkward, but beautiful and emotional and consuming. He gives me pain and takes it away with sobering kisses and covers my soft noises and accepts my scraping nails.
Corbin Callum and I cement something that makes me feel like a different person. Happy. Loved. Cared for. Scared. Nervous. Excited. I give him something that I have no doubt I’ll remember for life.
We fly. Soar just like he says.
When it’s over, we both get dressed—me in his AC/DC sweatshirt and my pajamas, and him in his tank top and jeans.
For the longest moment, we just lay there in silence, catching our breaths and absorbing the moment. My chest tightens, and my core hurts, and my eyes prickle with the swelling emotion from what we’ve done.
“Corbin?”
“Hmm.”
“How did you even get in here?”
“Climbed the tree by the hallway window,” he murmurs sleepily.
I sit up slightly. “You did not!”
He looks over and grins at me. “Your family keeps the spare key on the top of the door jamb, Kinley. It’s not hard to find.”
Shaking my head, I smile to myself and move closer into his side. “You have a habit of stalking me, Corbin Callum.”
“Why the full name?”
“You’re not denying the stalker claims?”
“I only stalk the pretty ones.”
“Wow.” I laugh into his chest which I use as a pillow despite the others around us. “You should try getting cast as Ted Bundy in a Lifetime movie. You’d be perfect.”
“Hardy har har.”
After a moment, I say, “You were born with a name meant to be known by the world. I mean, hopefully not as a serial killer, but…”
“Go to sleep, Little Bird,” he muses.
“Fine.” I close my eyes. “But you need to leave before anyone realizes you’re here, okay?”
I don’t hear his response.
“Absolutely fucking not,” a voice booms somewhere close by.
It doesn’t take long to assess the overheated body pressed way too close to me before understanding what the unwanted wakeup call is for. When I crack my eyes open to see my brother fuming at my doorway I want nothing more than to hide under my blanket and pretend he can’t see Corbin.
“Morning, Gavin.”
He walks in and rips the blankets off, quickly covering his eyes with his hands. “You better both be wearing clothes. I don’t want to kick a naked boy’s ass.”
Corbin jerks up, somehow head butting me in the process. I wince and rub my forehead before smacking Gavin. “We’re not naked,” I hiss, feeling the sting of heat encompassing my entire body.
Gavin looks at Corbin with narrow eyes before pulling him up by his shirt and shoving him toward the door. “I’m hiding the spare key and chopping down any trees that he might be able to climb. You’re lucky Mom and Dad didn’t find you two in here.”
I quickly get up and yank on Gavin’s sweatshirt to force him to stop pushing Corbin out of my room. There’s discomfort between my legs that I push past, trying not to give myself away. “Stop! We didn’t do anything. He came over to tell me some good news and we fell asleep.”
Grabbing Corbin’s shoes from the floor by my bed, I pass them to him. He stays silent as he kneels and slides them on, tightening the laces while Gavin and I stare each other down.
“Dad would kill him,” he points out.
“Dad doesn’t have to know.”
His eyes narrow. “You can’t have boys in your room, Kinley. You’re like twelve. That’s inappropriate.”
My mouth gapes. He did not just call me twelve. I’m more mature than him in every way except age. He may have five years on me, but that’s all he does.
“Rebecca Davenport.”
His lips part.
“Stacy Smith.”
His eyes narrow.
“You smoked weed with Tyler Bowen.”
“How do you know all that?”
Crossing my arms on my chest in challenge, I meet his gaze firmly. “Because I’m not an idiot, but you are. Rebecca stumbled half-drunk into my room one night and got all giggly and apologetic when she thought it was the bathroom. Stacy told the entire school you and her were going steady after your little sleepover, and you smelled like skunk right after coming home from hanging out with Tyler and that other moron he’s always with.”
Gavin remains quiet.
Corbin stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I should go. I’m sorry for falling asleep. We were really just talking.”
Slowly, Gavin turns to face him. “I don’t like you.”
“Gavin!”
Corbin nods. “Duly noted.”
“Ignore him,” I tell Corbin.
Gavin shakes his head. “Good luck getting him out of here. Dad has been up for over an hour. Pretty sure he’s on the computer.”
Before he can walk out, I grab his arm. “I haven’t said anything to them about your conquests. The least you can do is help me.”
One of his dark eyebrows raises. “Can I speak to you … alone?”
Corbin puts his hands up and walks toward the door. “I’ll just … be somewhere.”
“You do that,” Gavin grumbles, walking into my room and closing the door in Corbin’s face before I can stop him.
I push his shoulder. “What is your problem? I don’t say anything to you about who you spend time with. I’m obviously trustworthy for not ratting you out about the stupid stuff you do to disrespect Mom and Dad. What’s the big deal?”
He gestures toward the hall. “The big deal is that guy is going to hurt you, Kinley! I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again. He will leave. He’s going to leave this town and he’s going to leave you. You think I’m a moron, but something happened between you two. Don’t start—” His warning gaze cuts me off from arguing. “I don’t care if something happened last night or not. You look at him in a new way
and it can only end badly. He’s graduating in June. Then what?”
We haven’t discussed what will happen when he graduates. Just that he promised to come back for me. He promised.
His voice becomes softer. “You want to know why I slept with random people and smoked weed and lost my shit for a while? Aimee.”
I knew he took their breakup hard, but he never wanted to talk about it. He seemed fine for a while, focusing on work and building his farm up to make more money. I knew better than to bring her up because he’d shut down.
“First loves hurt, Kin. They suck.” His hand raises to comb over his short hair. “The last thing I want for you is to get too invested in something that’s inevitable.”
“What if it’s not?”
“Not what?”
“Inevitable?”
The look he gives me is full of doubt. “I always liked how you saw the best in people. Even when I was a total dick to you, you’d forgive me when I didn’t deserve it. When Mom and Dad make comments that upset you about your writing, you brush it off and smile. There’s only so much a person can take though. What if this is what breaks you?”
My frown deepens. “Way to have faith in me, big brother. Do you think I’m that weak?”
He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I think that being in love changes us. Take it from someone who knows. We get consumed so quickly in another person that we lose ourselves along the way. When you stop guarding yourself, everything is easier. Falling. Feeling. Hurting. I let what Aimee did to me ruin a lot of good shit in my life over the past couple of years.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ll be the same.”
“No,” he agrees. “Knowing you, you’ll be better than anything bad that can happen. I read the story you got published in that literary magazine. I don’t doubt you’d channel everything you have in making something of yourself—with or without him.”
He seems to emphasize the without him bit, making me close my eyes in frustration. I love Gavin even if his protective nature drives me nuts. I know people whose siblings don’t care like he does, so I’m grateful. I just wish he’d let me make my own decisions without making me feel dumb for choosing to feel optimistic.