In Every Way (12 page)

My mouth tastes like fire from that shot of tequila. It stung like I was drinking acid and then it made my entire body warm. Even my head is a little fuzzy, but I’m not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the dozens of bodies dancing all around me. Or the fact that Josh is still holding my hand and he leads me through the crowd of people and out into the starry night, where it’s also unbelievably warm out here.

Josh is going to kiss me tonight. I know it as sure as I know my own name, and I am both thrilled and petrified.

I am a virgin, after all. A never-been-kissed virgin. What would Josh say if I told him? I cringe just thinking about it. It’s not that I don’t want to have sex or that I’m a prude or anything, I’ve just never had a guy like me. My old best friend Cassie used to tell me to talk to certain boys, swearing that they liked me, but I never got the courage. And so year after year, I’ve been too chicken to talk to a guy. That’s how you become an eighteen-year-old virgin who doesn’t even know how to kiss.

“Where are we going?” I ask as Josh and I tread slowly around the large weathered barn. The music rumbles through the old wooden slats, but the sounds of nature are strong out here. Cicadas buzzing, the gentle gust of wind in the tress.

“There’s a gazebo back here,” he says, then he points to the ground. “Watch out for that ant bed—I’m hoping we’ll be the first ones to go back there so we’ll have some privacy.”

My heart warms at the way he warned me about the ants as we walk. He’s considerate and protective, two things I’ve always wanted in a guy. As we approach a gazebo, I notice that it’s near a little pond that has a rowboat docked at the edge.

Once painted white, the gazebo is just as weathered as the barn, but it seems sturdy enough. No rotting wood or anything. We take the two steps up onto the deck and Josh wraps his arms around me again. We sway to the music that’s now softer from so far away.

“This is much better,” he whispers against my ear. The tickle of his breath sends a chill down my neck, and lights millions of nerve endings on fire. I can’t believe I’m standing here, wrapped in the arms of Josh Graham. At this point, I don’t even care if it’s all a joke. I will just close my eyes and pretend.

My cheek rests against his strong chest as I inhale the scent of his coconut body wash. My fingers press against his back, the muscles taut beneath his shirt. I breathe in deeply and let it out slowly, willing myself to enjoy every second of this.

The song ends back in the barn, and another louder more upbeat one begins. Josh’s hands slide down my arms and he takes both of my hands in his.

“So like I was saying back there,” he says, his lips twitching in a grin. “I mean, you know, if you’re okay with it . . .”

My tongue flicks across my lips in anticipation. I’ve waited for this moment my whole life; daydreamed and fantasized about it late at night in my bed. I even used to kiss my hand for practice when I was in junior high. Now I feel a thrill and rush of excitement as well as enough anxiety to make me throw up if I think about it enough.

I squeeze his hands and pretend that small amount of liquor really did give me courage.

“I think you should go for it.”

Josh’s lips glisten in the moonlight, his grin so cute it makes my toes tingle. He cups my face in his hands and tilts my head up toward his. My heart pounds like a jackhammer and all I can think to do is close my eyes, his adoring gaze the last thing I see before his lips press to mine.

The kiss is soft, timid. His lips touch mine for maybe two seconds and then slowly pull away. My eyes open gradually, and I reach up and cover his hand that’s still on my cheek. There’s a brief moment where I panic.
What do I do? What do I say? That was barely a kiss! Did he hate it? Does he want to leave?

And then he grins and lowers his lips to mine again, this time letting the kiss be urgent and ravishing. His tongue glides across my lips, parting them just slightly. I shudder as his tongue slips across mine, his lips moving as if he’s an expert. And he probably is, but at least it makes kissing him easy. He takes the reigns, keeping one hand on my cheek and letting the other wander down my side until he grabs my hip and tugs me into him. I can feel his erection through his jeans, and knowing I turn him on becomes the biggest turn on I could ever imagine.

He likes me.
Josh Graham likes me.

I tangle my hands in his short hair as I lean up on my toes, kissing him back in what I hope seems natural and experienced to him. My entire body feels lighter than a feather when I’m tangled up in his arms as they roam down my sides and back up again. My favorite is when he wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the ground until we’re the same height.

I hold on for dear life and bite back giggles as he spins me around. He must be stronger than he looks because there’s no way he’s still holding me up, still supporting my massive weight.

Now I’m nervous and turned on and anxious all at once, and it makes me smile right in the middle of kissing. Josh pulls away for just a second, his eyes burning into mine with an intensity I’ve only ever seen in movies. He gives me this evil grin and then dips his head, pressing his lips to the curve of my neck. I gasp as the kiss sends my body into a shudder. His tongue runs along my collarbone and I grab onto him, fearing that my legs will collapse from the pleasure of his touch.

He chuckles and then goes in for another kiss.
So this is what making out feels like
I think as we dive back into it. A flash lights up the dark gazebo and we both jump at the same time as we realize someone is shining a flashlight at us.

Josh raises one hand to shield his eyes from the light, and pushes me behind him with the other. “Who the fuck is that?” he calls out, his chest heaving from being interrupted in the heat of the moment.

A tall lean guy with dark hair steps up onto the gazebo, turning his cell phone flashlight onto himself so we can see who he is. Ugh, he’s one of Josh’s friends. Bryce, the asshole who’s always talking shit to everyone.

“Oh, hey man,” Josh says, relaxing his stance. “Can’t a guy get some privacy?”

“Uh yeah,” Bryce says, turning the flashlight onto me. “But dude, are you wasted? Friends don’t let friends hook up with a whale. You need to ditch this girl.”

I swallow, the weight of his words knocking me down, down, down, until I can’t breathe anymore.

I am a whale. I am Bessie the cow. I am not good enough for Josh Graham.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Josh says, but I don’t hear anything else that comes after. My feet carry me even though my heart can’t seem to work properly. All it’s doing is hurting, reminding me that I am worthless and that I don’t deserve
any
guy, much less that guy.

I run, through the field, past the barn. I run until my legs are screaming for mercy and my lungs feel like they’ll explode. I run even though I hate it, even though I have nowhere to go, even though I suck at running.

I run because if I don’t keep running, I’ll start crying and never stop.

“Bess, wait!” The moonlight dances off her blond hair as she runs away. I glare at Bryce. “You and I will have words later,” I hiss before turning to catch up with her.

Bryce reaches out and grabs my elbow, jerking me back so hard it sends a shock of pain into my armpit.

“You’re not running after her, man.”

I twist my arm, but his grip tightens, his thumb digging into my elbow painfully. “Only pussies run after girls.”

“Dude, what the fuck is your problem?” I yank out of his grip, and look back toward the barn, but Bess is gone. I need to run after her, and I will, but now I’m so fucking pissed I can’t let this go.

“That was totally uncalled for,” I say, shuffling back. My elbow hurts like hell but I make sure not to show it so he doesn’t get the satisfaction.

Bryce shakes his head. “What’s uncalled for is you hooking up with a walrus, man.” He grimaces. “You’re sick, dude. Got some kind of fat fetish?”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Are you blind?” I throw my finger toward the general direction where she’d ran away. “That girl’s not fat, she’s hot. And what the hell do you care about who I date, anyway?”

Bryce rolls his eyes and keeps shaking his head slowly back and forth like I’m some idiot and he can’t believe it. “Dude, that’s Bessie the cow. That fat chick from school.”

I lift an eyebrow. The cruel nickname sounds familiar, but I’ve never put a face to the name. “She’s not fat, man.”

“Maybe not right this second,” he says, moving his hands wildly. “But she used to be a fucking cow, dude. I’m pretty sure I invented that name for her. Just because she grew up and got titties and like, dropped some weight, doesn’t mean I want my best friend banging her.”

Anger takes ahold of me. If there’s anything I’ve learned in a lifetime of living with my mom and sister, it’s that women don’t like comments on their weight. The media puts enough pressure on them as it is, when really, a little meat on a woman is sexy as hell. What Bryce said to Bess was unforgivable, and what’s worse is that she might even believe it. I need to find her and make this right.

Bryce runs a hand over his chin. “Listen, Josh. You can get way hotter girls. Come with me back to the barn and I’ll introduce you to some.”

“Nah, I’m good,” I say, turning back toward the barn. And then, just for good measure, I whirl around and slam my fist into his jaw with a satisfying crack. Bryce growls in pain and stumbles backward until he crashes into one of the benches along the wall of the gazebo. “Fuck off,” I growl, and then I run back to the barn, hoping to find Bess before it’s too late.

When I reach the barn’s sliding wooden door, the music feels louder than ever, and Bess isn’t standing by it. I scope out the parking area, looking for that shock of blond hair. I jog over to my truck, half expecting to see her standing there, leaning against the passenger door. She’ll probably want me to take her home, but at least I can try to make it up to her on the drive.

My feet stop short on the gravel road. She’s not at my truck. I even peer into the window, hoping to see her there even though I know my truck is locked.

The painful knot in my chest grows bigger as I turn around and head back to the barn. I don’t see her in the crowd of happy, drunken party people. She’s not back in the kitchen area, and I don’t see her standing near a small bonfire someone made outside.

When I call her, the call goes to voicemail. So, like an idiot, I try her three more times and get the same result.

My head is spinning, my heart pounding. I’m trying to remember high school and junior high, when Bryce thought it was hilarious to give people rude nicknames. I was never picked on so it never really bothered me. But now, the ache in my chest is so persistent I feel like I could throw up. Bess was one of his victims. And I never went out of my way to tell him to knock it off. Never punched him back when we were kids. He wasn’t insulting me so I just let it go, figuring it didn’t matter.

God, I’m such an asshole.

I don’t deserve Bess, yet here I am frantically looking for her and hoping I might still have a chance. I should have taken her on a real date, just the two of us. I should have worked harder.

She deserves an apology. I need to tell her how truly beautiful she is just in case she doesn’t believe it.

I call her again, and again. Then I send off a text.

Josh:
Please please let me know you’re okay? Where did you go? Call me?

No reply.

I’m pacing around the party in a daze as I scope out any little spot she might be hiding. I can’t find her anywhere. I ask a few people if they’ve seen her, and their only reply is, “Bess, who?”

I venture outside, checking my truck again, but she’s not there. I call her again and then climb in my truck and send her another text.

Josh:
Bess, please. I’m terrified that you’ve been kidnapped or something. Just tell me you’re okay.

Bess:
I’m fine. Now leave me alone please.

Her reply helps me breathe again. I really was worried that something happened to her, and at least now she’s okay.

Josh:
I don’t blame you for being mad. Please talk to me? Where are you? I’ll take you home.

Josh:
Bess? I’m so sorry for that dickhead Bryce. He’s an idiot. Don’t listen to him.

Josh:
Please talk to me. Let me make this up to you.

I toss my head back and stare at the dark roof of my truck as I wait for a reply. She’s gone and she’s ignoring me. This fucking sucks.

Even with all of these things tormenting me, my mind slips back to the memories of kissing her under the stars. Her soft lips, the gentle way she held onto me. The faint smell of her perfume. Here I was thinking I was well on my way to asking her to be my girlfriend, and now she hates me.

I try to call her one more time. I know there’s probably nothing I can do to change her mind. But I crank the engine and put it into drive. There’s still one more thing I can do. I’ve come so far with this girl who fits my list in every way. I can’t give up on us now.