Always Something There to Remind Me (7 page)

After about twenty minutes, Erin snuck through her door, closing it behind her, and went downstairs. That was the worst of it. The house was entirely floored with hardwood and every board seemed to creak like a shrieking banshee when stepped upon, so she had to move as lightly and as stealthily as possible. Plus she had to do it fast, so if there was more than one creak, it would sound like one long one rather than footsteps. House settling, rather than escape.

When she got to the main floor, she froze, listening for any sounds from above. The hardwood floors worked to both their advantage: they could alert the chaperone to when a prisoner was trying to escape, but they also told the prisoner if the chaperone was rousing from bed and coming to investigate.

Fortunately, there was no sound at all.

She stepped onto the front porch and sat down, waiting for him. Soon she saw headlights swing onto her street and heard the familiar old Chevy engine make its way toward her house. A few yards away from her house, he turned off the headlights, then pulled up a bit short of his usual spot out front. If Aunt Cheryl looked out the window, she’d think his car was in front of the neighbors’ house.

Erin’s pulse quickened at the slamming driver’s door and his footsteps coming up the street. She stood and ran across the sprinkler-dampened yard to him, throwing herself into his arms.

For a long moment, they kissed: mouths, chests, hips pressed together, arms locked around each other. She breathed in his familiar scent, part him, part Coast soap and Pert shampoo. Everything about him drew her in; it was the same every time.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked against her mouth.

“Inside,” she said automatically.

“But she’s in there.”

“Downstairs.”

He tightened his arms around her and kissed her more.

She didn’t want it to end. Ever.

The cicadas buzzed hypnotically in her ears. In the distance, crickets joined the chorus. It was so loud she couldn’t imagine Aunt Cheryl or anyone else could hear them over the sound, even if they yelled.

Finally, she pulled back.

She had A Plan.

“Come on.” She ran her hand down his arm and twined her fingers in his, then pulled him toward the house. “Let’s go.”

He followed. He indulged her. Unless there was danger ahead, or another clear reason her idea was harebrained, he always indulged her. She recognized that, but figured it was usually worth it for him, one way or the other.

She amused him; they both knew it. In a way their roles just reflected a deal they’d made. She’d be flighty and needy and he’d be smarter and indulgent, and in exchange she’d be protected and he’d be adored.

It just worked.

Holding tight to his hand, she led him through the front door, closing it slowly and quietly behind them, then down the stairs to the basement. She always hated those steps because they were just thick wood slats with no back and ever since she was a child she had imagined a hand reaching through and grabbing her ankles as she ran up them after turning out the light.

Tonight she had no fear, though.

They reached the cold linoleum floor and worked past her mother’s sewing table to an enclave that used to house a Ping-Pong table but which was now empty, except for some boxes of Christmas decorations and bolts of fabric her mother had laid out to measure and then left there.

That’s where Erin stopped. Wordlessly, she drew herself in to him again and their mouths crashed together like he was a soldier going off to war. He cradled her face with his hands and moved his mouth against hers with a gentleness and control that far surpassed hers.

She wanted more. She was determined that this was the night, and her eagerness in kissing him was contagious. Soon his control was broken and he was sliding his hand up her shirt and unsnapping her bra, removing both with one fluid movement. All that remained was her locket.

She didn’t even bother with his shirt, just went straight for his jeans, unbuttoning the hard snap and sliding everything off of him in one fell swoop. She was kneeling in front of him, and she took him into her mouth, clutching his hips.

She heard him pull off his shirt, then felt his hand on top of her head, absently tousling her hair while she brought him closer and closer to the end. But she couldn’t do that tonight, as much as she loved the feeling of achievement she had when she brought him all the way.

She drew back, pausing for a moment before letting go of him and reaching up to guide him down to her.

Together they lay down, warm skin against the cold, hard floor. He unsnapped her pants and skidded them down across her hips and off. Erin reached for the fabric that was lying on the floor and pulled it underneath her before pulling him on top of her.

“I’m ready,” she said breathlessly.

His breathing was strained in the dark. He was ready too. He was more than ready.

But he’d never let her do something she’d regret.

“Ready for what?” he asked cautiously.

She wrapped her legs around him. “Everything.”

It was a long, tight moment before he said, “Are you sure?”

She thought about Cheryl’s contention that this was young love, and about how she’d feel if they were ever to break up and she had to look back on this moment as an episode in a life that was full of people she didn’t even know now.

The very thought made her want to cry.

She’d know him forever, wouldn’t she? What would have to happen to make this—what they felt right now—change at all? Unless it just got stronger. And surely that was what was going to happen, wasn’t it? Wouldn’t this just get stronger?

“I’m sure,” she said. And as the words came out of her mouth, she knew she
was
sure.

She never knew how he’d gotten so artful with his mouth and hands, or if, perhaps, it was only her perception because she hadn’t been with anyone else, but the moment she told him she was sure, he turned up the intensity, and within moments she was floating away, barely aware of anyone sleeping two floors up, or two doors down, or anyone anywhere else in the world.

His breathing was growing very strained from holding back.

“Now,” she said, and swallowed her fear. “Do it now.”

“You’re really sure?”

But it was no longer a question. If it wasn’t tonight, it would be tomorrow or next week or next month, but Erin could no longer see herself without him somewhere in her life, and there was no one she could even imagine being her first besides him.

She reached down and guided him toward her, then folded her arms around him and held on. She closed her eyes and he pressed against her.

“
Ouch!
” she cried involuntarily, then snapped her mouth shut and tried to breathe normally.

Now,
that
was some pain.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Is it bad?”

“Yes.
Ow
. Is it over?”

“Um. No.”

She took his meaning. All that pain and he hadn’t even broken through yet.

She took a deep breath. “Okay.” She balled her hands into fists. “Try again.”

He did. Several more times. And though the pain was intense, the result was always the same.

Nothing.

Finally, he rolled off her and said, “We’re going to try this another way.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked dubiously.

He laughed, then kissed her and gently trailed his hand down across her ribs, over her abdomen, and between her legs. He took his time, waiting for the throbbing to subside and her body to want more again.

Then he worked her with his hand, pushing the limits a little bit at a time with his fingers until finally she said, “I’m sure you can do it now.”

He moved onto her again and started to press into her. She widened her legs and bit her lower lip, willing this to be over so she could find out about all the
good
stuff people talked about.

“
Ow ow ow
, wait a minute,” she said, when she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Just let me breathe for a sec.”

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yes. It’s just … is it always this difficult?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never … done this with a … you know…”

“What a
what
?”

“
Virgin
.”

“Who said I’m a virgin?” she asked, and they both laughed.

“Okay,” she said, bracing herself like a boxer in the corner going in for another round. Hopefully the last round. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t know, Erin, maybe we should wait.”

“For what? For this to stop aching so we can start all over? No way. We’re going to do this.” Things had become decidedly unromantic. Now she was determined to lose her virginity.

So he tried again, distracting her moderately with his kisses, then, with a searing, earth-shattering pain that made her cry out, he was finally in.

They stayed still for a minute, half afraid to move and half afraid they’d hear Aunt Cheryl upstairs.

When a few minutes had passed with no sign of rousing, Erin whispered, “Now what?”

“We move,” he explained. “You move your hips when I do.”

He pulled out and she moved her hips up.

“You go the
opposite
way,” he said, without a trace of the laughter she later learned would have been completely appropriate.

“Ooooh!” She wondered, privately, how that could work because wouldn’t he just slip out if she moved down when he moved up? But she tried it anyway.

And it worked.

It didn’t feel good that night. This was no romance novel where the heroine was taken by a handsome monster of a man and spent the evening moaning with pleasure at this newfound thrill.

But it did begin to hurt less. Or she got numb. Or something.

Before long, he pulled out and came onto her stomach.

It was one of the more triumphant feelings she’d ever experienced.

“Are you okay?” he whispered again in her ear after a moment.

“Yes. Just sore. And relieved.” She touched his cheek. “I love you so much.”

He kissed her, then said, “I love you,” his lips next to hers. He kissed her again, longer, until they drifted off together.

They lay there for a long time, dozing in and out, but still locked together. Eventually, Erin noticed a faint light showing outside the high well window.

“It’s morning!” She tapped Nate’s shoulder.

“Hm?”

“It’s morning. Aunt Cheryl will be down any second!”

He sat up and squinted at his watch. “It’s five thirty.”

“I have no idea when she gets up. She’s been gone every day when I wake up.” She giggled. One of the best things about summer was the complete freedom. Nate had a job, which was both good and bad, but Erin didn’t have anything she had to do. “Of course, it’s not like I’m waking up at six thirty or anything.”

They collected their clothes and put them on in the semidarkness. Then Erin went and flipped the switch to turn on the light. The bolt of fabric they’d been lying on was marred with blood.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed.

Even Nate’s eyes widened when he looked at the amount.

She looked at him. “I told you it hurt!”

He nodded. “I’m sore too.”

“You?”

“Yeah, I was bent, like, in half!”

She winced. “Sorry. Well, it’s done now. You can’t
un
do it.”

He looked concerned. “Do you wish you could?”

“Nope.” She went to the sewing table and found the only scissors she could, pinking shears. Then she cut the fabric off of the bolt. They’d ruined about two feet of it because of where they’d been.

“I kind of feel like I should save this as a souvenir,” she said.

“Gruesome.” He held out his hand. “Give it to me. I’ll throw it out at my house.”

She handed it over. “You just want to keep it as a trophy.”

“Yup, you got me.” He guided her to the stairs and they went up very quietly.

Erin heard a movement overhead and pointed.

He nodded and somehow managed to open the front door without a sound.

’Bye,
she mouthed.

He kissed her silently, then laid his hand to her cheek for a moment before drawing back and closing the door as noiselessly as he’d opened it.

She stood there a moment, hand against the wooden door, heart still pounding with the memory of their time together.

Then she whispered, “I love you.”

And she’d never meant what she said more than she did in that moment.

Chapter 6

Present

“How long did he give you to think about it?” Jordan asked.

I continued my run down Wisconsin Avenue, answering her through my Bluetooth earpiece. I hated exercise, hated running, but it was better than sitting around on my sofa, spending the whole Saturday trapped in my condo
and
my head. Camilla was out with a bunch of friends at the zoo and the moment she’d left, I’d felt a strange, restless lack of purpose.

It was either stay in and let my brain melt or go out and run until my legs melted.

I opted for legs.

“It’s not a contract negotiation. I can think about it until I have an answer.”

“All right, so how long do
you
give you?”

“I don’t know. Should I be timing it? I honestly thought the answer would come to me with some sort of magical certainty, but every time I try to meditate on it, I get distracted and start to think about other things.” It was true, I had the attention span of a two-year-old child. If I was reading or working or trying to coordinate schedules on the phone, all I could think about was Rick’s proposal. If I put the book down, hung up the phone, and decided to devote my attention entirely to the situation, my mind wandered. Too often it wandered to Nate, which freaked me out and made me search desperately for something else to concentrate on.

Suddenly I was the poster child for ADD.

“No, no, no,” Jordan insisted. “You can’t expect to have some psychic knowledge of what to do. This is a
practical
decision you have to make. Can you spend the rest of your life with this man? Do you want to have a family with him? Do you want to grow old with him?”