along with him.
“I do, in fact, have some that haven’t been sitting in Kirby’s locker for God knows how long.”
It takes only a moment to slip out of bed and grab them, a moment to shed our underwear. Another few moments to help him put one on before realizing it’s inside out. Into the trash it goes, and then we try again.
Once we get it right, it doesn’t last extremely long, because we’re tired or because it’s his first time or some combination of both. Every so often, he checks in with me, asking if it’s still good, if I’m still good. And yes. Yes. We try our best to be quiet, but we can’t stop whispering to each other. We’ve only just become friends, real friends, and there’s so much we want to say.
He finishes first, and then his fingers drift down between us and he gets me there for the second time tonight. Another thing I’ve learned: Neil McNair is exceedingly generous.
Then we’re quiet, quieter than my sleeping, darkened house. It’s a peaceful, appreciative kind of quiet. I burrow close to him, resting my cheek against his heartbeat while he plays with my hair.
“Earth-shattering,” he says.
“What just happened? Agreed.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Well, yes, but I meant you.”
ROWAN
good morning
this is a friendly reminder that you have one (1) minute and counting before I wake you up
5:31 a.m.
WHEN I WAKE up, I’m immediately hit with that panicky feeling you get on weekends sometimes when you’re convinced you’re late for school.
Only I’m not late, I no longer have school, and Neil McNair is in my bed.
He’s on his side next to me, one arm thrown across the pillow, the other around my waist. The early morning sunlight slants across his face, turning his hair fiery. He is beautiful. The sky is a clear cobalt canvas, yesterday’s storm forgotten.
It finally feels like summer.
As though sensing I’m awake, he pulls me closer, presses a kiss to the back of my neck. The reality drips back in. Neil and I had sex last night. Well—an hour ago, technically this morning. And it was good.
“Did that really happen?” I say aloud.
“Yes, unless you and I both had the same intensely erotic dream.”
“I prefer the reality.” I snuggle closer. “Was it okay for you? Do you feel different?”
“We’ll have to do it a few more times to know for sure,” he says with that wonderful smirk of his. “Yes. It was incredible. I’m not sure if I feel different, exactly. Mostly, I think I’m just happy. And… it wasn’t terrible for you?”
I answer by pressing myself into him, dropping kisses down his jaw, onto his neck. “You make me really, really happy too. I hope you know that.”
He holds me tighter. “I love you, Rowan Roth,” he says. “I can’t believe that’s a thing I get to say.”
I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it. I whisper it back, into his skin. I run my hand down his freckled arm, then pull on it to peer at his watch. “As horrible as it sounds, we should get up before my parents do.”
He kisses my bare shoulder as I force myself to a sitting position. “Don’t think I don’t expect your book report on my desk by tomorrow just because we had sex.”
“What book?”
“Hmm. The Age of Innocence? Moby Dick? The Turn of the Screw?” He thinks for another moment, that lazy-sly smile appearing again. “Hard Times?”
“Is that an autobiography?”
“No, it’s Dickens. At least three pages, please,” he says before I push him back down on the bed.
* * *
About ten minutes later, he grabs his T-shirt, pulls it on. “So what do you think? Should I be all cool and sneak out the window?”
“I think you might have to.”
“I guess I’ll see you at KeyArena for graduation. Which is now tomorrow. Wow. I should really work on my valedictorian speech.”
“And the next day,” I say, “we can have a Star Wars marathon. Or go on a real date.”
“And this?” he says, gesturing to my sheets. “We should definitely do this again.”
“We should definitely do this a lot. At least until August.” That sudden heaviness pins me to the bed. “So… that’s a thing we’re going to have to deal with.”
Neil must notice the change on my face because he stops halfway through buckling his belt and comes closer. “Artoo. Hey. We’ll figure it out.”
The nickname melts me.
“I just… I’m not ready to say goodbye,” I say, surprised by the unexpected