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I watch the horizon for a moment, that big endless line, jagged with waves. I watch until it starts to scare me, like looking into the abyss and having the abyss stare right back.
That’s the last thing I need.
I turn around and look at Jay.
He’s so fucking beautiful.
And I’m drunk, I’m so drunk.
But he’s so beautiful. And I want to tell him more than anything. I want him to understand that it’s okay.
There he stands. Over six feet of muscle and mystery. The messy cinnamon hair waving in the wind. That chiseled jaw. The sharp cheekbones. A look of being haunted and of doing the haunting. His eyes that undo you, for good or bad.
And right now, he’s undoing me.
For good.
My world goes swimmy.
I’m not sure what happens next.
Suddenly we’re in the room and I’m leaning against the door with my back to it.
He’s opening a bottle of water from beside the coffee machine.
I want to tell him it’s probably twenty dollars.
But my mouth doesn’t work and my mind is probably days behind.
He unscrews the cap and has a sip of the water before striding over and holding it out for me.
“You need to drink the whole thing.”
My lids are heavy.
I shift to the left and he’s there, holding me up in his arms.
Smells like the sea.
“Easy, princess,” he says in that endearing way of his, his lips at the top of my head. “I guess I wasn’t exactly the best guardian today, was I?”
I wrap my hands around his neck and hold on, holding myself up so that my face is pressed into his chest.
Then I lift up my chin to stare up at him.
“Have you ever kissed a girl before?” I ask him lazily.
His eyes widen briefly before they become all squinty and warm. “Me? No.”
“Have you kissed a boy before?”
He gives a slight shake of his head, a lock of fiery hair falling across his forehead. “No. Do both of those answers disappoint you?”
“No.” I lick my lips and say goodbye to reason, shame and good ideas. “Don’t you wonder what it’s like?”
I expect him to say no.
But his gaze becomes heady, almost lustful, and it drops to my lips. I can feel his eyes on my mouth, burning sweet, almost like he’s already kissing me.
“I do,” he says huskily, his tone dropping a register.
His answer, his look, it emboldens and sobers me all at once.
“You can kiss me you know,” I whisper, staring at his full lips now, willing them. “I won’t tell anyone.”
He leans in closer, his nose brushing against the tip of mine. He closes his eyes. Murmurs, “I could. I very well could.”
Oh god, please do.
He’s breathing harder. Trying to compose himself. I can feel his pulse in his neck, beating against the heel of my palm. It’s wild.
I want to undo him as he undoes me.
I want to show him what it’s like to be mortal, to be human. To live, really live.
He said I made him feel. I want him to feel more.
Feel me.
“But you’re drunk,” he says softly, sadly.
“I’m sober enough.”
“But it wouldn’t matter.” He moves his head back a few inches, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “You . . .” he rubs his lips together. “If I were to kiss you, I wouldn’t . . . I couldn’t stay who I am. I couldn’t go back.”
I’m not sure I understand but it doesn’t matter.
He’s rejecting me.
“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” I whisper, closing my eyes and feeling that shame that moments ago I pretended didn’t exist.
“Yes,” he says emphatically, his breath catching. “You’re more beautiful than this earth can handle. You belong in the stars, not here. You’re walking stardust and I’m amazed I can hold you in my arms”
My brain wants to make a joke about him being a poet and not even knowing it. But there’s nothing funny about this. I’ve never yearned for someone so much in my life. I’ve never had my body become so sexually aware before, like it’s waking up for the first time.
Nothing less than Jay will do.
“Ada,” he says, putting his fingers under my chin and raising it until my eyes open and meet his. “If you only knew how hard it is to say no to you. To say no to this. But I know what would happen.”
“What would happen?” I say this softly, afraid I might break this spell. Our faces are still inches apart and he’s moving closer without even knowing it.
“You would be mine. And I would be yours.”
From just a kiss? I think, but I know it wouldn’t just be a kiss.
“Is that so bad?”
He nods softly. “Yes. Because that’s not how this works. I’m supposed to be with you and then I’m supposed to leave . . .”
“You can still leave,” I tell him, knowing full well that it would destroy me.
