be a risk—trying to take things to the next level, especially while hiding it from everyone. I remember sitting in the front seat of his car, squeezing my hands together so tightly my palms began to sweat. I kept my gaze out the window the entire ride, but when we got there it was like a switch flipped. He jumped out of the car to open my door, offered me his hand, and that was it. That was all it took to make me realize how right it felt. I don’t think he let go of my hand until we were seated in a little restaurant overlooking the water. Even then, he held my hands across the table until the food came. “Did you know how long I’d been crushing on you?” he asks. “I’d wanted you for so long.”
“I guess I always had an idea. The way you looked at me sometimes made me wonder what was going on in your head.” And the fact that he’s incredibly good-looking didn’t hurt. I was flattered and likely turned beet red every time my eyes caught his. But I always thought he was way out of my league. In high school, he was in with the jocks and I was one of the intellectuals, and I had little desire to party. I thought those images followed us through college and past that.
“I can’t tell you how many times I had imagined what it might be like to wrap my arms around you, and feel your lips on mine,” Tanner says. “I knew I was lucky to experience that even if it was just for a little while, though.” His words make me a bit uncomfortable.
We’re not together; I feel like we shouldn’t be talking about our lips.
“You made it kind of clear that night in Newport,” I laugh, softly. Nervously. Embarrassing as it was, that was my first kiss. I didn’t know what I was doing…but he definitely did. I almost forgot how to breathe when he leaned in, lightly pressing his lips against mine. His mouth tasted like mint and felt cool against my lips. His fingers swept across my cheek, keeping the kiss gentle. I wanted more, but that was all he offered that night. He wanted to mark the night as a transition from friends to whatever we were becoming. Things felt so perfect, which is why we agreed to keep it our secret for as long as we could. Everything was more than amazing for those months; it was a summer filled with romance and secrecy…hot sex, and everything else that came along with it.
“We should have kept us a secret,” he says, almost under his breath. At the time, it felt good to have a secret. It felt naughty and exciting. I’ve always followed the rules and never stepped out of line, so I enjoyed the adrenaline rush I got when Blake, Mom or Dad were around, and I knew something they didn’t.
But as summer ended, we decided we didn’t want to hide it any longer…though maybe that was just me. We had dinner with Blake, Mom, and Dad. I remember Tanner grabbing my hand under the tablecloth, then pulling it up on top of the table as if presenting our secret. Everyone’s eyes flashed to our intertwined fingers. “The truth was always bound to come out,” I tell him. I know he agrees. Maybe denial is easier to work with though.
Blake’s expression was the first thing I noticed, how the angry red filled in the spaces between his freckles. “We love each other,” I’d said, hoping it would make Blake feel better. It didn’t. Mom was thrilled. She bounced out of her seat, throwing her arms around both of us. Dad reached out for Tanner’s hand with a proud smile. But Blake got up from the table, shoved his chair halfway across the room and left the house. Tanner and I stayed together for another six months, but things grew less and less comfortable as the year mark came upon us.
As much as I loved Tanner, I loved Blake more, and for whatever reason he wasn’t clear about, I knew it wasn’t okay with him. I trusted him and knew he always had my best interest at heart. Plus, my relationship with Tanner would have ruined their friendship, and I couldn’t bear that guilt. So I broke things off.
“I’m sorry Blake couldn’t see it your way—our way. You understand why I had to do what