“Uh, because I value my life. I’m far too young andhandsome to die at the hands—or rather, trunk—of your childhood treehouse,” I said, taking a seat against the wall.
The space was exactly as I had always expected it. Dark wood and dusty floors with the occasional spider web in the corner. But there were also so many little pieces of her scattered around. Old pictures lined the faded blue walls, and handmade vases with fake flowers sat on the shelves.
Cleo sat down in front of me, bracing her hands on my thighs. “You’re definitely too handsome to die. Not to mention how hard it’d be for me.”
“Oh yeah?” I tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Would you miss me?”
She looked down and bit her lip. “So much. And then I’d have to go through the trouble of finding another super-hot boyfriend who plays guitar and knows how to ride horses. It’d be awholething.”
“Damn, that’d suck. Maybe you shouldn’t make the one you have risk his life to climb a freaking tree.”
Cleo laughed as I kissed her again. I meant for it to be quick—nothing more than a peck I’d steal from her when we were around our parents or between classes at school—but goddammit, I couldn’t tear myself away.
Kissing Cleo was like finally nailing the hardest part of a song after months of practice. It was a rush, a high like no other. Except I think I loved it more than music or the thought of getting out of this small town for good. I loved it so much I often dreamed about it every night. Which, admittedly, made for an awkward morning sometimes when my mom came in to wake me up.
I didn’t know what it was about her that made it so different. I’d dated other girls before her, but they didn’t compare. Not by a long shot. I think part of me had known that since our first date.
The two of us had fallen hard and fast for one another, and there was no sign of slowing down.
Without realizing, we’d planned our lives together. It wasn’t intentional; it just kind of happened. From conversations about which colleges we were looking at and what jobs we wanted to do afterward as we drove to school, to asking the big questions about marriage and babies when we were curled up in the bed of my truck. All of a sudden, I had a future I was looking forward to.
Even if none of it happened, even if all our plans went up in flames tomorrow, I knew I wanted her by my side.
But there was one line we hadn’t crossed. One that was getting harder to ignore with each press of her lips against mine and stolen moment alone.
Cleo and I agreed to hold off on the whole sex thing until college. Some of it was out of respect for our parents, considering we spent most of our time together at her house or mine. It felt weird thinking our first time could be on a twin-sized bed that used to have Power Ranger sheets.
It wasn’t as if we didn’t know what could happen. Both of our parents had given us the rundown when they realized Cleo and I were serious about one another. They said they’d rather us be informed and intelligent than ignorant and stupid, which was more than I could say for some of my friends. When I asked my best friend Cooper about it, he said his mom had turned bright red, and his dad had pulled him off to the side and given him a condom.
All things considered, we got pretty lucky.
Some part of me was still nervous, though. What if we did it and then things changed? What if we finally took that step and she realized she didn’t like me the way she thought and ended it?
Cleo climbed forward, setting herself on my lap as she threaded her fingers into my hair. Each kiss was greedier thanthe last, and I was trying like hell not to add to it. The last thing I needed was to embarrass myself.
“Cleo,” I said, pulling back with a groan. “You’re not playing fair.”
She giggled. “I told you there’d be a reward.”
This girl was trying to kill me. “Time with you is reward enough,” I said through gritted teeth.
I tried to think of everything I could that would prevent my body from reacting. Sports teams. Grandpa Gary’s dentures. An ice bath in the middle of winter.
Cleo leaned back. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“God, no,” I breathed. “Uh, it’s… Well, it’s the opposite.”
Her brows knitted together as she studied my face. It wasn’t until I shifted beneath her that she understood, lips parting as she looked down. “Oh.”
My chuckle turned into a groan. “Yeah.Oh.” I brought my hand up, running it through my hair. “I promise it’s not you. It’s just…”
“No, I get it,” she said, biting down on her lip. “I guess I just wasn’t thinking about that.”
“Lucky you,” I mumbled jokingly. “Sometimes I feel like it’s all I think about.”
“Really?” I nodded. “Like… in general?”
I shrugged. “Yes and no. I think about you, too.”
