Landslide (54 page)

She finishes reading my tattoo and lets go. I lift my eyes to hers, holding her still with a simple look; swirling in the crystalline blue is the certain knowledge that it still isn’t the time to explain what that means to me exactly. She has the gist of it and that’s enough for right now. “Something like that.”

“You really considered it though? With me?”

My lips quirk. She’s so damned cute. I don’t understand how she can’t see that she’s always had me wrapped, but her timid request to be reassured is endearing. “Every single day and night for about three months, Erica.”

Bolstered once more, she smiles to herself. “And yet, you held strong.”

“Well, yeah, barely. I mean, that night at the cove was an exceedingly near-run thing. I was
all
in and if those people hadn’t been out walking, it totally would’ve happened. But, I’m actually kind of glad it didn’t because by the time I was ultimately conscious of what I wanted, well…we weren’t in the same place emotionally. Sex between us would’ve carried a vastly different weight and meaning at any point over that summer.”

“That’s probably true. What about afterwards, though, when we thought we’d never see each other again?”
 

 
“I was a soldier, beautiful. I lived and breathed that job. I had to. And, bouncing around all over Hell and back with the Air Force isn’t exactly conducive for meeting anyone I’d care to have a solid attachment to. Then once I was out for good, I moved up here and even though I learned that my dad
did
actually want me, it didn’t erase how I grew up or how I felt about taking even the smallest risk with someone I didn’t trust wholly and care deeply about, and vice versa, and between you and me, there isn’t a lot to choose from up here. Plus, truth be told, by that time I had a lot of healing to do and other shit to take care of, and while it might be thought of by some as unbelievable with me being a guy, the honest to God truth is, having sex just for the sake of having it was never a top priority.”

A sigh escapes her and an adoring smile plays on her lips. “You are so unfathomable. I’ve known you my whole life practically and it took everything that happened tonight for me to see that there’s this immeasurable depth to you.”

Foreign feeling warmth creeps into my face and I have to stop myself from shifting uncomfortably. Jesus, modesty is an odd condition to experience when it’s not your norm… “
Humph
. You make it sound like I’m some kind of great humanitarian for stubbornly holding onto my v-card until you out-stubborned me by stripping during our first fight ever. I’m not that deep, sweetheart.”
 

 
“Yeah, you really kinda are. Makes me wonder what else I don’t know.”

A sudden revelation hits me. “Oh, I’m sure I’m full of surprises but, I just realized something…thanks to my incorruptible morals, I missed out on my goddamned sexual prime.” A sigh comes from me and giggling from her. “That
sucks
.”

“Oh, stop. You’re not
that
old.”

I throw her a pouty glare, to which she responds by giggling again and kissing me. It’s a dulcet kiss; not too long or intense so that we ignite a fire that we won’t be able to put out, however, the simplicity of thoughtfully touching our tongues to one another’s and wallowing in the easy intimacy of our lips melding together in our familiar and perfected rhythm is just shy of soul-stirring.
 

“God, who taught you how to kiss? They deserve an award of some kind…”

Shrugging my shoulders, I open my eyes wide. Again with the modesty thing… “Uh…no one. I don’t think.”

“Well, who was your first kiss?”

My lips quirk. “You.”

“Nu-uh!”

“Ya-huh. The closet under the stairs at Jimmy Meyer’s house during h—”

“His birthday party, I remember. Remembering that whole thing was what prompted me to strip last week, remember?”

“Oh yeah. And I’m the one who brought it up. That was my first look at live boobs, too. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome. But, that was
really
your first kiss? Or, three, I guess?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I’ll be damned, you really are full of surprises. You’ve always been a world-class kisser then. What about the other thing you excel at? You already know you were mine, but was I your first for that too?”

“Yeah, no. Sorry. Both receiving and giving. And the
latter I
did
get some tutoring on.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

I look at her and bite my lip, trying to decide if I should tell her.
 

“Come on…just tell me.”

I huff out a short, preparatory breath. “Okay. Did you take junior year AP Lit?”

“Yeah…wh—NO! Miss Ellis?!” I nod—slowly—and try to stifle both the grin and laugh I can feel threatening. “Holy shit, Cole! She was a
teacher
!”

“Yeah, she was. She was barely twenty-two and fresh out of college though when I had her class, and I was legit legal for almost a year when it actually started.”

“When it
started
? How long did it last?!”
 

“Off and on through the summer after senior year. I kicked the whole thing off though with veiled innuendos dating back to the end of my junior year. First time we ever did anything outside of creating some fun tension though was day of graduation in her office after I picked up my cap and gown. Why I missed the entering processional of the ceremony.”

“I was thinking before that I wanted to give her an award, but it just dawned on me that she broke my track record, the bitch.”

“Oh, no.” I shake my head. “I had done it before with a handful of girls, just not with much skill. It was a very scholastic summer.”

“I’m having a very difficult time picturing this…I mean, did you have to raise your hand?” she asks on a laugh, “And I can’t imagine calling her Miss Ellis did much for either of you.”

“No hand raising was required and her name is Michelle so that’s what I called her, you dork.”

“Wow, Cole… Calling a teacher by her first name during oral sex 101, summer school edition,” she says, wearing a most amazed expression, “Well, color you scandalous.”
 

I chuckle and roll my eyes, but then sober thinking of something I’ve always wondered about… “Alright, we’ve covered me fairly well, so your turn. I’m pretty sure I can claim your first orgasm, right?

She nods firmly, boldly stating, “Yeah, you can.”

“Thought so.” Technically, not a proud moment. Still, I gotta admit, I’ll own it and wear the badge happily. “And I know the rest of your stats, but,” I pause, tucking a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear so that nothing is blocking the captivating beauty radiating from behind her eyes, and doing everything I can to not think about the one race I know I for sure didn’t even place second in, “who was your first kiss?”
 

The question seems to take her aback. Gone is the smile on her lips and the playful light in her eyes, both dying out to express nothing but bereavement as her face falls; my heart plummets with it.

“It wasn’t me, was it?” I try to not sound disappointed. Erica quickly wiping a tear from her cheek before I do it for her tells me I wasn’t all that convincing. “It’s okay, sugar. Real—”

“No, um, it
was
you,” she stops to sniffle and blink back another tear before it has the chance to follow the first, heartbreak written all throughout her features, “It’s just…
you
should’ve been my…” With her blinking rapidly now in an attempt to meet my eyes and not cry a waterfall, understanding slams into me. I wasn’t her first like she was mine. And this is what soul-deep regret looks like. “I can’t take it back, can I?”

I pull her to me, holding her close as she weeps into my chest for our shared loss. “No, sweetheart, you can’t.” What I wouldn’t give to be able to travel back in time and erase that for her, just so that she wouldn’t ever know the sharp bite of what “should’ve been.” Then I remember what that would actually cost if I had the capacity for time travel. “It’s alright, though. You shouldn’t feel bad. It’s a double-standard for you to regret
any
of the things you’ve done but not be as upset about what I’ve done, or, didn’t do. Besides, things happen for a reason, Erica, and even if I could change the past, just enough to adjust that
one
thing for us…I wouldn’t. Not knowing what I do now.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am, actually. Look, I love you…so much that I don’t even know what to do with all of what I feel for you, really, but…if that one thing changed, so many other things would be affected, and some of them are huge. Like, life and death things.”

“What are you talking about? Are you saying that if we’d had sex, say, the night at the cove, more important things wouldn’t have happened? Because what I think is that by not having sex then, regardless if either of us were in the right place for it to have more meaning, not only did my virginity not go to who rightfully should’ve had it, but we lost seven years together, Cole.”

“True, but…” I never wanted to tell her. I thought it would be petty and vindictive; however, I can’t have her ruing her life choices up to this point the way she is. Regret is almost as damaging if not more so than grief. And I can’t have her poisoning herself—poisoning
us
—if I have an anecdote, that while hard to swallow, should help heal some of the hurt. In theory.

“But, what?”

Sighing, I cup her cheek, brushing the pad of my thumb over the wetness on it, and then I smooth her hair from her face. “I was there, in Oregon, when we talked on the phone for the last time. I got your voicemail and had driven all night and day to see you. I was going to surprise you, but…I was too late. You told me about sleeping with that guy and I lost it. Actually, I threw a gargantuan temper tantrum. I hadn’t already joined the military. I did it after we hung up. And I told you that I had because I wanted to hurt you the way I felt you’d hurt me, even though you had no idea about any of it. I knew it was the only thing that would cut you out of my life and at the time, that’s truly what I thought I needed to do. But really, it was all my fault—you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Aghast is the only way to describe her response to the taste of the bitter medicine I’m force-feeding her. “I didn’t do anything
wrong
? Are you kidding me? You could’ve died! You almost did! And we lost all that time! Because of me and one horrific mistake! How do you expect me to justify my actions and what I did to you as an acceptable sacrifice?”

“Like I justify mine. There are all kinds of things I wish I would’ve done differently, Erica. I mean, I razed you to the ground on
purpose
…you might forgive me, but I haven’t forgiven myself for that yet. Don’t know if I ever will. So believe me, I’ve played the woulda, coulda, shoulda game with myself so many damned times and I came out the loser in every one of them.

“Until it dawned on me that Payton probably wouldn’t be alive if everything up until that point in my life hadn’t played out exactly as it did. Especially in regard to us. If we had ever had sex or if I had ever told you how I felt beforehand, you wouldn’t have given yourself to a drunk stranger exactly when and how you did, therefore I wouldn’t have been in a position to breathe for Payton or take the bullet that I did for him.

“I don’t know for certain that somebody else wouldn’t have done the same thing, although as much as I wish I would’ve been able to give you the first time you deserved and everything that might’ve been in those seven years, I make peace with it all and sleep at night now knowing that instead, I gave someone their entire life back. My relationship with my father probably wouldn’t have been mended the way it has been either. So, for me, the tradeoff was worth it. I wouldn’t want to go back and change anything that would prevent those things from taking place. Would you?”

Indisposed remorse is visually seen leaving Erica’s eyes as her conscious mind and heart exchanges it for concession without reticence; the soft smile she finds for me banishing any of the vile remnants of doubt that might’ve been lurking. “No. Not knowing it would cost a life. Even the potential is enough for me to let it go. Still, is it wrong to envision what it might’ve been like, and want what’s in the resulting picture if it’s as wonderful as I imagine it would be?”

“If that’s wrong,” I say, shaking my head and kissing her nose, “then I’ve been in violation practically my whole life. The trick is not letting that image eat you alive or keep you from appreciating what you
do
have and striving for even more.”

“So, we don’t dwell on the past from here on out. Instead we use it to reflect on and learn from so we can go forward and paint something that’s just as wonderful if not better.”

“Sounds like a great plan to me.”

Yeah, it does. But how are you gonna handle it if her vision of a masterpiece doesn’t include the important elements and brush strokes that yours undoubtedly will?

I have no idea…

44

“Wrong Side of Heaven”

—Cole—

For as cataclysmic as the day and subsequent evening seemed to start out, the night was the polar opposite and couldn’t have been better than if it were the happily ever after of a fairytale. I didn’t want to ever fall asleep. If I didn’t sleep, the night would never come to an end…and I wouldn’t awake to find it was all just a dream—an elaborate and cruel prank played on me by Karma.
 

The ominous idea startles me awake and I know at once that I’m alone in bed. I don’t however give in to the panic or nagging insecurity that demands I keep my eyes closed. I open them wide and lay still as long as I can to see if any detail begins to fade the more awake and alert I become, the way a true dream would. It’s all still here. Even a whispered sensation on my hip of how Erica traced the tattooed heart on fire there and the words within it that she’d finally taken notice of. Her discovery led to a blow job, which abruptly turned into the real thing when she herself chose to stop in the middle of what she was doing and completely disregard her view of unprotected sex.