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His brothers did, though. With a touch of embarrassment in his tone, he admits that his brothers lost their virginity here. “Both of them.” Holy shakes his head in mock disapproval before admitting he did, too. “It was a family legacy by then. Though I swear to God, if I find out that Hope lost her virginity up here, I’ll kill the man that did it to her.”
Hope must be his younger sister. The concern in his tone and his protective nature make me smile. “But it’s a family legacy,” I tease.
He shakes his head and makes a sound of disgust. “I better never find out that Hope knew about that. I think I’d be sick.”
It’s a double standard; I see it clear as day. Holy and his brothers can have sex up here, but God forbid his sister does. I suppose it has something to do with men finding women to be the more vulnerable type. “Would it be alright for me to lose my virginity up here?”
Holy turns to look at me, his neck snapping so fast that he almost breaks it. “With who?”
I take a few steps closer to the edge of the overlook. More of the lake comes into view, along with the land below. Jagged rocks jut out of the ground, promising pain and death to anyone that tumbles forward. “With anyone. You, maybe,” I peek backward at him, “or someone else, perhaps.”
His hands curl into fists at his side, and I face forward once more. I know we’re playing a dangerous game, but what’s life without a bit of danger? What’s living if you don’t have a little fun? “You shouldn’t have sex up here,” Holy decides. His shoes crunch against the gravel as he walks up behind me.
“Why not? It’s a pretty place.” A bit of grass cushioning the ground for anyone looking to roll around under the moonlight. The view is spectacular.
Holy is closer than I imagined. I feel his hand on the small of my back and jump at the sudden touch. He grabs my wrist out of instinct to keep me from moving forward and tumbling over the edge of the overlook. “Your first time should be special, Danielle. You should be surrounded by flowers and candles. You should be with someone you love.” He chokes on the words as he speaks them. “Your first time shouldn’t be on the ground with some boy that doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“What about you?” I ask bravely. “What if it was with you?”
He corrects my course of action. “Your first time shouldn’t be in the dirt with some biker twice your age, either.” But his fingers tightening around my wrist tell me that though he says one thing, he’s thinking another.
I turn toward him; our bodies pressed together beneath the fleeting beams of daylight. “What if I want it to be?”
Holy drops my hand in favor of grabbing my hips. I can’t tell if he’s trying to hold me close or keep me from getting closer. “You don’t,” he insists. “Yeah, my brothers and I lost our virginity here, but it wasn’t great. You deserve a first time that reflects how special you are.”
Some girls know what they want their first time to look like, just like some girls plan their weddings. The only thing I’ve known is that I’ve loved Holy since the first time I laid eyes on him. I’ve imagined having sex with him a dozen different ways in a hundred different places. I don’t care where we do it; I just want it to be with him. “Holy, you’re not listening to me.”
He digs his fingers into my hip bones. “What am I not hearing?” He asks, frustrated.
“That this isn’t about where. It’s about with who. I want my first time to be with you. I don’t care if it happens here or in a bedroom, as long as it’s between the two of us.”
His frustration grows. I can’t quite figure out why, but there is tension in the hands that he holds me with. “Danielle,” and I can tell by his tone of voice that I’m not going to like whatever he says.
I pull away from him, anger filling the well in my chest. “I don’t know why we came out here,” I announce stubbornly. “I don’t know why you brought me here if you don’t like me or want to have sex with me.”
“You’re in high school,” he cuts me off. “You should be wined and dined and—”
“Okay,” I speak over him. “I’ll find someone else to do it. Maybe Elliot Graham. Maybe some other football meathead that looks at me like I’m some piece of meat and not an actual person.” I spit out the words like they’re acid, and they burn through the romantic atmosphere. “I’ll figure out where this stupid place is and bring one of them up here.”
Holy clenches his teeth together. “Danielle,” he says sternly, “that’s not why I brought you here.”
But I’m a ball of fury and rage now. I cannot be quieted by his fatherly tone; I cannot be put out by his seemingly well-put-together nature. “Hell, maybe I’ll bring the whole football team up here.”
Holy grabs me unexpectedly and forces his mouth onto mine. He pours his anger and frustration into the kiss, passion overwhelming me like too much water in a cup. “Don’t ever threaten to bring another man up here,” he demands when he breaks the kiss.
“You’re the only man I want to be with,” I promise him. “So be with me, Holy.”
He struggles with the idea internally, but in the end, I get what I want. He pulls me to the ground, and I’m introduced to the Pelham family legacy firsthand.
15
DANIELLE
Sex is the marriage of body parts. It is hands all over you. It is lips taking in your delicate parts. It is arms holding you close. It is foreheads pressed against one another in passion. Holy and I are a mess of body parts just waiting to be wed.
The grass provides little comfort. We are, after all, still on the ground. But it’s more comfortable than the gravel that bites into my skin when we get too close to the roadside.
Holy’s lips explore as much as his hands do. He licks a spot behind my ear that I didn’t realize was ticklish. He travels down the slope of my neck and dithers at my collarbone. Round and round his tongue goes, swirling against my skin like an early spring tornado.
