His arms wrapped me up as the water washed down my back, and I sighed at the contentment that spread over me, the pure ecstasy of that moment.
Clay held me like that for a long while before he pulled back, swallowing as his eyes flicked back and forth between mine. He grabbed my face in his hands, thumbs against my jaw forcing me to look at him as he said, “Thank you for trusting me with that, for letting me be your first.”
I bit against my smile, shaking my head. “You really are like a book boyfriend, you know?”
At that, he chuckled, tucking me into his chest against before pressing a kiss against my wet hair. “I’ll be even better,” he said. “Just wait and see.”
And I had absolutely zero doubts that was a promise he wouldn’t break.
Clay
I’d never felt so whole.
Not with a football in my hands, not with my mom’s arm around me in pride on my graduation day, not in any of the moments I’d ever shared with Maliyah.
Nothing had ever filled me up, all the way to the brim, the way waking up next to Giana did.
Her dark curls were an absolute mess, frizzy and sticking this way and that, the golden highlights in the midst of brown like a chaotic halo around her head on the pillow. Her mouth was open, shallow snores slipping through her pink lips as a little drool slid through the corner.
I smiled, letting my eyes trace over the beams of light streaking in through her blinds and casting her in a golden glow. And suddenly, I realized how very differently last night could have gone, how differently this morning would be had I made a different decision — had I not said fuck it and gone after the girl.
My chest ached.
One choice. One moment where I’d decided I couldn’t stay silent anymore, no matter what kind of pain it would bring to her or to me for me to speak the truth. It was nearly a week I let my pride sit on top of me, holding me down with its weight and the stinging reminder that her date with Shawn was what she wanted, what I’d promised to get her.
But when Coach let us go last night and told us to get some rest for the game today, I knew rest would be the last thing I’d find until I told her how I felt.
Part of me wished I’d been wise enough to do this last week, when I had her in my arms ready for me to take her. But it wasn’t right, the timing of it, the feeling of it. And maybe the last seven agonizing days were what made last night so sweet.
She felt the same.
She wanted me, too.
God, just thinking of how she’d whispered that she was mine on her front stoop made my chest squeeze in a mixture of possession and elation.
It was enough to drive a sane man out of his mind, to have a girl like Giana open up for me, let me in, trust me with everything that she was, and give herself to me in every way that she could.
I wouldn’t take a second of it for granted.
A garbage truck squeaking to a stop outside stirred Giana awake, and she blinked a few times, smacking her lips together before her tongue slid out to wet them. Her eyes widened when she found me staring back at her.
“Good morning,” I said.
She blinked, and then instantly covered her head with the comforter. “Oh my God, look away. Close your eyes so I can make an escape to the bathroom.”
The words were muffled under the covers, and I chuckled, ripping them off her head before I pulled her into me and kissed her — long, slow, and with every intent to do it all morning.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her.
“Not at seven AM, I’m not.”
“Especially then,” I argued, kissing her nose, but I still held her in my arms. “How are you feeling?”
Her resistance faded, and she melted into my embrace, watching her fingernails as they drew lines over my bicep. “Amazing,” she whispered, a blush tingeing her cheeks. “Sore, and dehydrated,” she added with a laugh. “But… amazing.”
I intertwined her hand in mine, pulling her to my lips so I could kiss each of her fingertips. She watched me as I did, brows furrowing even as a smile bloomed on her lips.
“This is real,” I said, hoping I could soothe whatever anxiety was already creeping into her mind in the daylight. “You and me, we’re real.”
She let out a long sigh. “So, it wasn’t a dream.”
“Like your imagination could cook up something that hot.”
She snorted, rolling her eyes before she climbed on top of me. I let her maneuver us until I was on my back, she on her knees and settled into my lap.
“So, what does this mean for us now?”
“What do you want it to mean?” I countered.