Surprised, I didn’t hesitate. “Be there in a minute.” I ducked back inside and hurriedly grabbed a hoodie. After the first time I’d taken Rory down to South Beach for the failed polar plunge, that spot had quickly become a special place we shared. We never talked about it, never brought other friends down with us. It was only for us. All through high school we hiked down the beach trail once or twice a month, even in winter. Sometimes we’d sit in companionable silence, nestled back against that same huge driftwood log, our log. Often we’d bring homework, but we seldom actually cracked a textbook. More often than not we’d end up talking for hours, arguing good-naturedly about books and movies, laughing and goofing around, talking about our hopes for the future. We’d share whatever snacks we had on hand and just enjoy the time together. There, in the salt-tinged air, with the majestic snowcapped mountains as a backdrop and the quiet lapping of the water, I was happiest and most at peace in the world. I always felt that way when I was with Rory, and the beach amplified it; for that space of time, all felt right with the universe. I was seen and known and accepted. We could sit together and simply be ourselves. It was the best feeling in the world.
But all that stopped soon after Rory started dating Jessica. He’d mentioned our beach trips to her once early on, and she’d insisted he not go without her. We never went again. Now I wondered what had changed to make him offer tonight.
He drove us down to the beach through the dark, quiet streets of Magnolia. We didn’t see any other cars. It felt like we were the only living beings in a slumbering world. He parked illegally in the tiny parking lot. Technically we needed a permit to park there, but at this time of night, we were the only ones around. It was after ten but had just gotten dark. August twilight in Seattle was long and soft and slow.
We walked along the trail to the north part of South Beach, through the silence broken only by the gentle lapping of the waves. I’d thrown a hoodie over my tank top and thin cotton shorts but now wished I’d brought something warmer. It was always chilly down here, fresh and cool. The air smelled of wet sand and seaweed and salt. The moon was almost full, with wispy clouds scuttling across it, bathing the water in bright silver. The park lay wild and silent, and I shivered and pulled closer to Rory and the beam of his headlamp. Sometimes a bear or a cougar wandered down from the Cascades and found their way to the park. I could imagine eyes watching us in the near darkness.
We wound our way down a ribbon of sandy path to the beach, gravitating by unspoken agreement to our usual spot. We settled down in the sand, backs against the huge bleached driftwood log. There was a breeze blowing in off the water, and I shivered, scooting a little closer to Rory’s warmth. We hadn’t talked since we’d gotten in the car, and I wondered how to break the silence. It felt weighty. I could feel the heat of his body beside me, our thighs almost touching. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. He was my first love. And I was pretty sure he didn’t feel anything like that for me. I had no ideahowhe felt about me. I was a bundle of longing and nerves and anticipation and anxiety.
I leaned my head back against the log with a sigh and looked up, searching for constellations. The light pollution from the city was lessened here, and I found the Big Dipper, the rest of Ursa Major, UrsaMinor, and at the tip of the Little Dipper, the bright North Star. The silence stretched long.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked at last. I’d been wondering about this since the night of the party at Jake Hollins’s house.
“Sure. Shoot.”
“That night of the party, Jake told me you’d warned all the guys on the sports teams that I was off-limits. Why did you tell them that?”
Rory shifted against the log. He was silent for a moment. “I guess I feel protective of you. I don’t want anybody to mess with you or hurt you. When I saw Jake with his hands all over you at the party, not listening to you saying no...” He clenched his hands. “I’ve never punched a guy so hard in my life. I wanted to knock his teeth out. If he’d hurt you...”
I said nothing, just looked out at the water. What did it mean that he felt so protective of me? Like a little sister? Or something more?
Rory cleared his throat. “Can I askyousomething?” he asked, turning to look at me in the moonlight.
I nodded. “Of course.”
He paused. I could see him out of the corner of my eye, watching me. “What you said the night of the party, when I drove you home,” he said slowly. “About how you thought I’d be your first kiss. What did you mean by that?”
I turned to him then, tracing the familiar lines of his face. Everything was bathed in silver tones, sharp and beautiful. I could shrug it off, pretend like I didn’t remember, that it had been the vodka and adrenaline talking. But he was going away tomorrow. This might be my only chance to tell him the whole truth.
“I like you, Rory Shaw,” I admitted. “A lot.” I gazed at him, tucking my hands between my thighs to warm them. I was buzzing with giddy energy. Now that I had decided to be bold and tell him the truth, Ifound I wasn’t nervous at all. “I’ve had a crush on you almost from the minute I first saw you,” I told him. The confession felt good, freeing. He was staring at me, confusion etched across his face. I’d caught him by surprise.
“But what you said to Crystal... I heard you telling her once that you could never feel like that about me, that I was like a brother to you.”
So hehadoverheard that conversation.
“That wasn’t the truth.” I shrugged. “I didn’t want her to know how I felt. I was embarrassed because I didn’t think you saw me that way.”
He shook his head, bewildered. He seemed at a loss for words.
“It’s okay,” I said, calm now that I’d finally said the words. “You don’t have to feel the same way.”
He was quiet for a moment. “But what if I do?” he said softly. Something flashed between us, quick and strong as a jolt of electricity. His eyes were intent on my face, so close I could feel his breath against my skin. He was so beautiful in the silver light reflecting off the water. Without thought, I reached out and cupped his cheek, the skin warm, his stubble a little raspy against my palm. He felt so familiar.
“Do you?”
He laughed raggedly, the sound like tearing cotton, then turned his face into my hand and pressed a sudden, fervent kiss into my palm.
“Since the moment I first saw you,” he confessed.
I drew back a little. “But I heard you, the night of the party. You told Jessica you thought of me like a little sister. You promised her, Scout’s honor,” I protested.
“Lolly, you know I’ve never been a Boy Scout,” he said, his tone a little amused. And then suddenly he was reaching for me, his warm hand clasped firmly around my upper arm, tugging me down on top of him. I went willingly. For moment we stayed like that, pressed the length of each other in the sand, nose to nose, breathing the same air. Then he moved a scant inch and kissed me, one hand cupping the backof my skull, pulling me against him. He tasted like sweet tea and bourbon and Rainier beer, like falling in love, like coming home. It was not a brush of lips, not a chaste kiss. It felt like he was drowning and I was his sole source of air. I threw my arms around his neck, pressing hard against him with years of pent-up longing, kissing him right back, matching his ardor. It felt so right.
He was murmuring things against my mouth, but I could only concentrate on his lips on mine, on his hands tangled in my ponytail, the hard curve of his rib cage beneath me, his mouth full and hungry on mine. Finally. Finally we were where we belonged. He groaned and pulled me closer, my breasts pushed against his chest; we were locked together in an almost crushing embrace. I could feel his heart tripping fast against his ribs, his mouth trailing hot down the length of my neck. He said my name with a kind of desperation.
He was strong, but this was nothing like Jake Hollins. I felt safe with him. I knew he’d stop in an instant if I wanted him to. But good heavens, I didn’t want him to. I wanted to kiss him forever. I wanted to melt into him till our bones fused together. We were burrowed in the sand, me half over him, kissing with a sort of desperation, like it was our last moment on Earth.
I came up for air with a gasp, dizzy with desire. Pulling back to look at him in the bright silver moonlight, memorizing this moment, the planes of his face. I was stunned and shaking and euphoric. “I love you, Rory Shaw,” I said.
