Losing It: A Collection of VCards (29 page)

I pause at the fire, the sparks finally kindling enough for the flames to take over the work, and pull Nolan up to stand in front of me, my lips dusting hers. “Duh, so I can dance with you under the stars,” I say, teasing her, tilting her chin so her eyes can take in the sky.

“Okay, okay,” she says, a breathy giggle escaping her mouth. “But…orange crayon?” She asks, her eyes coming back down to meet mine. She pushes from my arms just enough to reach her backpack by her feet, pulling the small crayon from the bottom. It’s brand new, probably from a box she had to buy just to get it. I can’t help but start to chuckle, my lips hurting from trying to hold my laughter in.

“Damn it,” I yell, my arms limp at my sides and my face parallel to the sky. When I look back at Nolan, I can tell she’s confused—maybe a little worried. “Oh, it’s nothing really. I just owe Sarah twenty bucks.”

She’s still staring at me, and now she looks suspicious. Crap, that’s not the direction I want tonight to go.

“Sarah said you’d pack anything I told you to, and I didn’t think you would. You know, because you’re so pig-headed,” I say, pulling her hair lightly. “I threw that on the list as a test, and she won!”

I bend down to open up the cooler I brought, pulling out a few sandwiches and fruit slices I prepped for dinner, but quickly notice that Nolan’s still staring at me, her bottom lip sucked in tightly.

“I could just sort of pretend I didn’t bring it, you know,” she says, willing to lie just so I can win a stupid twenty-dollar bet. I look at the crayon, then to her, and smile, tucking it into my pocket with the flashlight. “No, that’s okay. I don’t go back on my bets,” I say, pressing my thumb to her lip. I hand her a paper plate with half a sandwich on it, and we both kneel down on my sleeping bag for our makeshift picnic.

Once our dinner is done, we take a small hike by flashlight—not as far as I wanted to go, but I didn’t really think out this whole walking-over-cobblestones-and-tree-roots-in-the-dark thing. More than once, I lose my footing. I’m extra careful to go slow for Nolan.

We make it to the small lake—the same one where I fished with my dad as a kid, and skipped stones across the water. We got a little carried away at the water’s edge, splashing water and kicking our feet in with our shoes in our hands. When Nolan started to physically shiver, I got her out, wrapping her legs around my front and carrying her back to the campsite. I set her down, lying on the sleeping bag next to her, my head resting on my elbow while I watch her look at the sky.

Her brown hair is blowing across her face; her smile could light up the moon.

“So, do you want your present?” I ask. This part is like ripping off a Band-Aid. It’s the moment all of the tiny moments leading up to it were about. I’ve almost chickened out on giving this to her a dozen times, even as recently as the drive up here. But fear—that hasn’t served me very well when it comes to this girl. I think it might just be time for a dose of courage.

“Okay,” she says, closing her eyes and holding her hands out. She’s mimicking the same thing I did when she gave me a gift for my birthday. I sure as hell hope my gift can measure up to hers.

I pull the folded paper from my pocket, clutching it one more time, realizing
this is it
. When I place it in her palm, it suddenly becomes harder to breathe.

“You…wrote me a poem?” she asks. It makes me laugh, probably because I’m nervous.

“Oh, god no. You don’t want me to do that, trust me. It’d be awful!” I say. “It’s a letter.”

As she starts to unfold the creases, pressing the paper flat against her chest, my heart picks up, faster than ever before; my body is suddenly on fire, my head a little dizzy.

I’m having a fucking panic attack!

“Wait!” I say, my hands quickly covering the first words on the page. Nolan looks up at me, her eyes…
happy
. Everything about her face is an angel. I know, despite how absolutely terrified I am that she’s going to read this letter, laugh in my face, and hotwire my Jeep to leave my ass in the woods, it would still be worth it to show this girl exactly what I think of her. She needs to know I think of her—
only
her. If she stays, I’ll know she’s mine. But she’ll also know I’m hers. “Wait…you need to know something first. You need to know when I wrote this.”

“Okay? So…when did you write this,” she asks, her hands trembling now, the letter shaking in her fingers. 

“That night after the winter dance our sophomore year,” I say quickly.

Pull the Band-Aid off!

I keep my eyes on hers as long seconds pass, her gaze locked to mine, like she’s looking for proof. She’s still looking for the trick, the
gotcha!
There’s no trick here, though. It’s just me, being honest…for once in my goddamned life.

Finally, her head falls forward as she begins to read the words I wrote a year and a half before—words I wrote when I wasn’t even sure what they meant. I read them while I waited for her in the school parking lot, and over the last week, I’ve read them so many times, I have them memorized. Now, my lips move along with certain parts when I know Nolan’s reached them.

She laughs lightly when she gets to the funny parts, but it’s when her eyes flutter, when her fingers wrap even tighter around the collar of her shirt, gripping at it, that I know she’s found the reason behind it all.

“Tonight I danced with a girl who stole my breath away,” my lips speak silently, Nolan’s eyes glazing over. As she reads on, I let my eyes go to the letter, my mouth still reading the words along with her silently. “You’re not mine. But what’s strange is it felt like you’ve always been mine…as beautiful as you were tonight—I think maybe you’ve been beautiful all along. And I’m just stupid.”

I’ve. Just. Been. Stupid.

When her hands lower the letter, her eyes give way to tears; I pull her into my arms. Finally, she feels like she’s mine.

“I guess I knew I loved you then, too,” I say, my heart full and happy, the feeling strange, but welcome. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear, her heartbeat reaching out from her chest, reaching out for my own.

“That just kicked the shit out of my scrapbook and the varsity letter,” she says, a small laugh escaping through tears, her hands moving to her face to wipe them away. That scrapbook she made me, the letter she gave me from my father’s varsity year—I knew that I loved her then. All that energy wasted talking myself out of it. So much time…

I kiss her softly, afraid to kiss her any deeper, afraid I won’t be able to stop. She takes one step backward, our lips part—her hand is flat on my chest as she pushes away. At first, I think she’s just giving us the space we probably need, being the responsible one. Then her hands reach for the bottom of her sweatshirt, pulling it slowly up and over her body, her hair falling loosely in all directions over her bare arms.

I swallow once—choking down any stupid something I feel the urge to say right now. Now is not the time for clever; now is also not the time to be a gentleman. Now is the time to wait—the time to hold my breath, and talk both sides of my conscience into coming to an agreement about what I think might just be happening right now!

Her shirt comes off next, followed by the small tight tank top she was wearing underneath. She’s standing here before me—her breasts damned near the most perfect things I’ve ever seen. All I can think about is how much I want to touch them, touch her, taste her.

Do not…be an asshole, Reed!

I wait for permission. I wait while she reaches for me, pulls my shirt up over my head, and slowly slides her bare skin against mine, her lips leaving a trail of kisses along my shoulder, neck, and face.

That’s enough waiting.

As soon as her teeth graze my ear, I reach my hands deep into her hair and pull her face to mine, kissing her hard and rough. She responds—her tongue and mouth just as hungry as mine.

This is the single greatest feeling of my life. My mind races several moves ahead, hoping and wishing. Yet, when I feel Nolan’s hands working to unsnap the button on her pants, something inside me clicks, and my heart surges—those balanced scales in my head warring with one another again, trying to keep me from fucking this up.

I slide my hands down her arms, gripping her wrists, holding her still. “Nolan, you don’t have to do this; that’s not what tonight was about,” I say. Tonight was about me being honest, about me proving to her that she’s my girl— she doesn’t have to compete with anyone. I don’t want to cheapen that, but my god does her skin feel amazing next to mine.

“I know,” she says, stepping away from me again. She keeps her eyes on mine, her breathing now heavy, her body quaking. At her final step, she reaches down and slides her jeans from her body, followed shortly by a small pair of white, cotton panties.

That war happening inside my head—it’s over now. I lost. Or maybe I won. I’m not sure what side of the war is right, and right now, I don’t fucking care. Seeing Nolan stand out here, in the middle of the night, out in the open, completely naked—this is the single hottest thing I’ve ever seen. It is going to take every ounce of control in my power not to make this end in seconds.

I move to her slowly, my hands starting at her leg, sliding up along every curve until I’m standing in front of her. When I unbutton my jeans, I notice her body tense, her hands not sure where to go, her breathing picking up pace—filling her chest quickly, then escaping just as fast. I kick my pants down my legs, letting my clothes fall into a pile with hers. I step closer until we’re touching.

This is going to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. I throw passes to moving targets, take hits from three-hundred-pound linemen that are no doubt leaving bruises on my body and brain every time I get punched or pressed to the turf. That shit—it’s hard! But football’s got nothing on this moment right now.

Nothing has ever been this important.

Nothing ever will be again.

I kiss Nolan’s neck. She shivers. “You’re cold,” I say, her head nodding
yes
slowly as her eyes close. I sweep her up into my arms, walking us to the tent while my lips find hers again. By the time I move us through the open flaps on the tent, Nolan begins to move again, her hands circling my neck until her fingers find my hair. I lay her on top of the thick comforter I put down to soften the tent floor, then reach for my wallet, pulling out the condom I put in there because of that little hope and wish in the back of my mind that this would happen.

I still don’t know if it’s right, and I’m not sure I deserve to be the guy taking this from her. But fuck me if I’m going to let someone else touch her like this for the first time. The last guy wasn’t worthy of holding her hand.

Once the condom is on, I move over her, her eyes wide and looking at me for something. I think its permission. I’m going to grant it, I’m going to talk her into this. I’m going to be selfish, because I want her—all of her—like this. I want to feel her and have her ache from me. I hate myself for giving in so easily, but I have to have this—have to have her. But I promise to love her long after.

Yes, I’ll love her. I’ll love her for fucking always.

“I’ll be slow. And if you want, tell me to stop,” I say, looking at her, knowing if she says so, that I’ll have to do it. I won’t lie to her. I won’t hurt her. This girl, she’s my reason…period.

“I know,” she says, a small nod of her head, her voice soft, shaking with nerves. But her eyes aren’t afraid. Her eyes—they’re on fire. She reaches her hands up my arms, sliding her fingers into my hair as she pulls my head to hers, kissing me softly at first, but the need growing with every pass of her tongue. As her hands slide down my neck, to my back and sides, I feel her legs relax beneath me, her hips rocking upward, her stomach meeting mine. The roll of her body is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, ever felt, and I know that even though she’s scared, she also wants this as much as I do.

I lower myself carefully, reaching with my hand to guide myself in place, then I push into her slowly, stopping to let her body get used to the feeling of having me inside her. Her eyes close tighter. I can tell it hurts, and my chest tightens knowing that I’m hurting her.