Nolan shakes his head. “Yeah right. They’re freaking terrible. Seriously. I’ve started wearing earplugs so I don’t go deaf from the God awful noise they think is music.”
“You wear earplugs?” I narrow my eyes at him and put my hands on my hips. “So not fair.”
Sage sighs, retrieving a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “You know, you could still change your mind, Ayden.” He pops a cigarette between his lips, cups his hand around his mouth, and lights up.
Nolan perks up, rubbing his hands together. “Yeah, you could always do that. Make our lives easier.”
Ayden fiddles with the leather bands on his wrists while staring at the ground. Sensing his uneasiness, I grab his hand. “We need to get home,” I tell Sage and Nolan. “See you guys tomorrow.”
Their moods deflate as they turn and get into Sage’s truck. Ayden and I hop into his car without saying anything and he pulls out onto the busy road. I ignore the headlights of the cop car following us, and instead focus on stroking Ayden’s palm during the entire drive to our neighborhood.
‘That feels good,” he murmurs as he steers the car into our subdivision.
“Yeah?” I brush my fingers across his skin again, tickling him softly.
He nods, his eyelashes fluttering. “It’s relaxing.”
“Maybe when we get home, I can give you a massage,” I tease with a wink.
“Maybe,” he says, surprising the crap out of me. He turns his head and our gazes weld. “What?” he asks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I keep looking at him the same way. “Looking at you like what?”
“Like you were when you . . .” His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard. “Like you were when we were singing.”
I rest my head against the seat, keeping my eyes on him. “Maybe because I feel the same way as I did when we were singing.”
He grows silent as he turns the car into the driveway of his house. The lights are off, but my house is lit up and music is blaring.
“My mom’s having a party,” I tell him, unfastening my seatbelt.
“I know,” he says, turning off the engine and headlights. “Lila told me about it earlier when she texted me and told me I could either go over to your house and wait for them to get home from Everson’s practice. Or I could go inside my house, lock the doors, and set the alarm. But if I did that, I’m supposed to text her and let her know so she could give the police a heads up to keep an extra eye on me.”
“How long is everyone going to be gone at practice?”
“At least until ten or so.” He shrugs, looking over his shoulder at the police car parked in front of his house. “I guess there’s a team barbeque after the practice.”
For some insane reason, I think about that silly pamphlet tucked away in my dresser drawer. I don’t know why it crosses my mind. Okay, maybe I do. “You want me to go to your house and wait with you? I’m sure my mom won’t mind.”
He stares at me, deciding his answer, before he unsteadily nods. My heart sprints so insanely I swear he can hear it.
We climb out of the car, meet around front, and link hands as we hike up the driveway. Once we get inside, Ayden texts Lila that he’s home then we go up to his room and shut the door.
I turn around and face him, trying to figure out the right thing to say other then, hey we should get our freak on. I shake my head at myself. Seriously, I’ve been listening to Maggie way too much. For all I know, Ayden’s thoughts aren’t even headed in the same direction as mine.
He sets his guitar case down on the floor then glances around his room. “You want to watch a movie?” he asks me, his cheeks looking flushed.
Okay, so we’re definitely not on the same page.
“Sure.” I kick off my boots and flop down on his bed, trying to appear more composed than I am. “What are you thinking? Horror? Romance? A comedy? Or Rom Com?” I smirk wickedly, because Ayden hates Rom Coms.
He studies me, touching his fingers to his lips. “I don’t know . . . Whatever you want to watch, I guess.”
“How about no movies and just . . .” Something about the way he’s looking at me, with hunger in his eyes, gives me the courage to get to my feet, walk up to him, and brush my lips against his. I half expect him to pull away—it’s always a fifty-fifty chance with him. Instead, he deepens the kiss, groaning as he backs me toward the bed.
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he whispers between our fervent kisses. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
My stomach does a flip as I smile against his lips. “You know I never do anything I don’t want to do.”
“I know . . . I just want this to . . .” His voice sounds strained. “For you to . . . For this to be perfect for you.”
“Trust me. It already is.” I collide my lips with his, and the kiss goes from slow and savoring, to reckless and nervous.
We fall clumsily onto the mattress and I giggle as our teeth clank together. He laughs, but the mood instantly turns serious again as he slips his tongue into my mouth.
I whimper as he bites my bottom lip, my back arching as I clutch onto his shirt, pulling him closer. His hands travel all over the outside of my shirt before I move back and pull it off. His fingers slide down my stomach and to the top of my jeans, and he fumbles with the button then the zipper.
By the time he strips me bare, I’m so nervous I’m shaking.
“A-are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice wobbly, unsteady, completely Ayden.
I nod, staring up at him. “I don’t have anything though . . . Do you?”
He hesitates then gets up and walks to his dresser. When he returns, his shaky hand is carrying a condom.
“When did you get that?” I ask, trying to conceal my laughter over how guilty he looks that he has a condom.
He sighs, dropping the condom onto the bed as his eyes drink in every inch of me. “Lila made Ethan give some to me after they caught us fooling around that one time.”
I prop up on my elbows, biting back a smile. “Well, as embarrassing as that must’ve been for you, I’m glad they did.”
“You are?” His question isn’t as simple as it sounds.
I nod then sit up and snag the hem of his shirt. He sucks in a sharp breath then raises his hands and lets me tug his shirt over his head. Once I get it off, I chuck it on the floor while he removes his jeans, leaving him only in his boxers. I take in the sight of him as I trace my fingers across his lean, but scarred stomach. I wish I could erase the pain of each one. Wish he never had to go through what he did.
Wish. Wish. Wish.
Wish upon a star.
Wish and wish and wish.
You can spend all your time wishing.
But then you’d be missing out on this moment.
He hooks a finger underneath my chin, bringing my attention to his eyes. He pauses, giving me time to back out. I’m not going to. Now that we’re finally here in this moment, I never want to leave it.
“I-I love you.” He leans forward and seals his lips to mine.
I love you too.
More than anything, Ayden Gregory.
You are it for me.
I’M TERRIFIED OUT OF MY fucking mind as I put a condom on, lie Lyric down on the bed, and situate myself between her legs. My thoughts are racing a thousand miles a second as I suck in a breath and start to slip inside her. My entire body quivers and it makes me feel pathetically weak. Thankfully, Lyric senses my nearing panic attack.
She cups my cheek. “Look at me,” she whispers, steadily carrying my gaze. “We don’t have to do this . . .
Not if you’re not ready.”
“No, I want to. I-I want to be with you,” I say¸ looking into her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispers with small, nervous smile.
I take a breath, then another, before moving slowly inside her, not wanting to hurt her, and not wanting to lose it. Because the panic is there under the surface, threatening to take hold of me.
I won’t
Let it control me anymore.
This is my life.
This is where I want to be.
Only here.
With her.
As I rock inside her, she holds onto my shoulders, staring up at me with complete trust. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. And, while I’m still scared to death, I feel different. Changed. I never want to allow my fear to make me miss out on any other amazing moments like this. I’ve spent so much of my life missing out on the good stuff, because I allowed the bad stuff to consume me.
No more.
Time to remove the cuffs from my wrists.
Time to free myself.
An hour later, we’re lying in my bed with our legs and arms tangled together. “This is for Keeps” by Spill Canvas is playing from the stereo, which I turned on because Lyric insisted this moment needed a song.
“I like this song,” Lyric mutters as she rests her head against the crook of my shoulder.
I play with her hair as I gaze up at the ceiling, replaying what just happened between us. I’m still shocked that I wasn’t dragged into an unwanted memory. It almost happened, but all I had to do was look at Lyric and the memory and fear faded.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lyric props up on her arm and catches my gaze. “You’ve been really quiet.”
“I’m fine.” I sweep hair out of her eyes. “More than fine, actually.”
She seems slightly insecure over something, which isn’t like her. “You don’t regret it, right?” she asks.
I swiftly shake my head. “Not at all. What happened . . .” The memory fills my mind of rocking inside her while kissing her deeply. “It was perfect.”
“Good.” She relaxes. “I need to write a song about this.”