Quiet Angel (5 page)

“Not much of anything
physical
, you mean?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You broke up with the girl because she wouldn’t have sex with you?” she asked, her tone not quite as playful as before.

“You make it sound so horrible.”

“Because it is.”

“It really wasn’t like that. We dated for like a year. She was a fun, pretty girl. . . .”

“You aren’t helping yourself.”

Gage scanned the putt-putt course in front of him. Just ten minutes ago, he was having so much fun out there, looking at her ass and chasing her club and balls. He kicked himself for ever bringing up a past girlfriend then fumbling around about what did, and did not, happen between them. At this point, there was only one awful way out of this mess. “I’m a virgin,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

Layla looked at him, confused. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“If you’re going off to the Naval Academy, I’d think so! They’re going to eat me alive.”

“Why do they have to know? Is there a box you had to check on the application?”

“You don’t get it,” he said and walked away.

Layla watched him leave, thinking it was sweet he apparently was inexperienced, and feeling bad for the inquisition. She wouldn’t want someone questioning her past, her decisions. And she didn’t know what it was like to be a teenage guy—especially a sensitive one about to become a midshipman, about to become part of a brigade, a battalion, or whatever the heck it’s called. A slow rain began to fall, and she got to her feet.

“Gage!” she called out, but he kept going, through a lush garden of fruit trees and flowering bushes. She called out to him again but he still kept on, making his way towards the parking lot. She quickened her pace as the rain came down harder, finding some relief under a huge oak tree, its branches keeping her somewhat dry. “I’m sorry!”

He stopped in his tracks and walked a few steps back until he shared the safety of the tree. “I’m sorry, too,” he said quietly. “You must think I’m a total asshole.”

“Not a
total
,” she said, giving a small smile.

“God, I hope you know that I’m not, well, that this thing between you and me isn’t just. . . .”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“No, I mean, no,” he stumbled. “It would be great, but. . . .”

“
But
?” she teased.

“I’m not looking to use you. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that to anyone,” he said.

“I know. If you just wanted sex, I’m sure you wouldn’t have a problem finding a willing girl.”

Gage took a step towards her, and Layla stepped back against the tree trunk. The rain pattered the leaves above with a delicate rhythm, and the tree branches started to bend down, creating a little barrier between them and the rest of the island, the rest of the outside world. He caressed her face with his hand, wiping away a few wet hairs, then ran his hand under the cord of her necklace, his fingertips outlining the curve of her neck, her familiar lavender scent drawing him closer.

“My dad told me it would be a big mistake to fall in love this summer.” His fingers followed the cord and came dangerously close to the curve of her breast. “I told him it was too late.”

Layla gasped, and Gage moved in closer, taking advantage of her parted lips, kissing her gently, the warmth of his breath making her body roll. He slid his hand up to her neck and pulled her mouth to his. Their tongues moved slowly around each other—tasting, sucking, exploring, wanting. Gage suddenly pulled back, stunned at the raw heat between them. Layla felt it, too. This wasn’t two teenagers stealing a kiss or some random make-out at a party.

“Layla, I. . . .” he started but couldn’t finish.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Better do that again,” she said and pulled him back to her lips.

*

Over the next
several weeks, they spent each day together, just hanging out on the island, talking about their dreams. Layla wanted to open a bookstore, and Gage wanted to be a pilot—though she teased he shouldn’t discount singing in a nightclub. And whenever they had a hint of privacy—whether on the warm sand, on his parents’ back patio, in his father’s car, outside her grandmother’s cottage, on the bike trails—they kissed like it could be their last. They both knew he’d soon be off to college, and she’d be wherever life took her.

His parents complained they’d hardly seen Gage all summer and insisted he spend the day with them on their friends’ small yacht. It sounded like torture to Gage. But he thought he could manage if Layla came along. So he begged his parents to let her, and they did. It was an easy sell because they liked her so much. The best part of the day was jumping off the top deck with her, especially since she was wearing a navy blue bikini and occasionally lost a strap when she hit the water. Unfortunately for him, she quickly covered up each time before he could sneak a peek.

After an hour of jumping and swimming, they dried off on the bow. She stretched out on a towel, and he did the same beside her. He tried not to stare but couldn’t help himself. She lowered her sunglasses to peek into his deep blue eyes, but they weren’t focused on her face. He grazed his fingertips up her arms then gently ran his fingers across her collarbone, continuing on down the leather cord, leaving feather-light touches between her breasts, and sliding all the way down to her belly button. She felt her whole body heat up but tried not to squirm, not wanting him to know the effect he had on her, not wanting him to know how weak she was.

When he reached her face, he slid off her glasses and ran his thumb across her mouth. “I love that little indention on your lips.”

“Cupid’s bow.”

“Huh?”

“The nickname for that little indention,” she said. “Angels make it. They hush babies in the womb, placing one finger above the baby’s mouth.” She placed her index finger across his lips. “Leaves the little indention. And some religions believe babies know all the secrets of heaven, so angels have to erase the memories before birth.”

Gage raised his eyebrows. “You’re too smart for me, Angel.” He brought her to his side and held her tight, rocking her to the rhythm of the ocean.

She nuzzled in close and looked up to the sky. Houston seemed so far away, like a bad dream starting to fade, seemingly replaced by a new one, one she’d read about many times before, usually involving a prince in a far away land, always involving a rescue and a fairy-tale love. “Tell me what it’s like to fly.”

“When I’m in the air, it’s total freedom,” he said, pulling her a little closer, his sweet Southern accent deepening, his hand grazing her back. “My favorite time to fly is right at sunset. I’ve got to get you to fly with me. I know you’d love it.”

Layla didn’t think so, but his sparkling eyes were somehow reassuring, somehow tempting. She wanted to freeze this moment, their past month on the island, to capture it in a bottle and hold it close to her heart. She needed something to hold onto. She felt her top come undone and quickly moved her hand to her chest.

“Tie that back!” she whispered firmly. “Your parents are inside—like 30 feet away!”

“No one’s around.”

Layla sat up and pushed him aside. She fumbled to tie it back herself, groaning in frustration as the straps slipped through her fingers.

Gage helped her. “Sorry,” he said and lowered his head.

She tilted up his chin and smiled. “Later?”

*

Their bodies wobbly
from the day at sea, Gage held Layla on her grandmother’s deck and looked down the beach at his house. They’d been “saying goodnight” for at least an hour. He leaned back down and gently kissed her neck. “You know, my bedroom’s right off the front porch. I could leave my window open.”

Her head darted up. “You want me to sneak in?”

“Or I can sneak inside here?”

“No way, it’s too small.”

“Well, my place then?”

“What about your parents?”

“Don’t worry. They’ll be in bed.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Just wait like 30 minutes to come over.” He took her hand, swinging it to encourage her, sensing it was more than just his parents holding her back. He suddenly had a stroke of genius. “On second thought, I don’t want you walking in the dark alone. I’ll shine a flashlight towards your house so I can see you coming.”

Layla lifted her eyes to his. “OK, 30 minutes.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

For two weeks,
they kept the same routine. Gage kissed her “goodnight” on her deck, waited 30 minutes, locked his bedroom door, and opened his window. Then he grabbed his flashlight to light the way for Layla to sneak over and into his room. With each passing night, their nerves got a little less, and their confidence grew they’d never get caught, two lovebirds sneaking around in the moonlight, making out in his bed right under his parents’ noses.

Now it was time again. Gage grabbed his flashlight and turned it to the cottage. He flicked it on but didn’t see her yet. He looked at his wristwatch. He was a minute early. He switched off the light and told himself not to get careless. That’s how they’d get caught. He looked around his room, a few antique model airplanes scattered around. It seemed childish to still have them, especially the one on his nightstand near his phone and the photo his mother took when they were “grounded.”

He was long past building model airplanes, now more interested in his model-looking girlfriend. But each night, Layla somehow seemed to hold him at bay, allowing him to explore the top half of her sundress, but nothing more. No matter how hard he tried, she managed to slow things down and snuggle into his side, a hint things weren’t going further. And then they’d talk for hours, sharing silly stories, staring out the open window, dreaming about their future.

Gage turned back to the window and flicked the flashlight back on. He saw Layla’s shadow on her grandmother’s deck. He loved to watch her move, her soft features come into focus, stepping out of the darkness and into the light. Every step she took was a step closer to his arms, to his bed, and hopefully one time she’d stay the night. She hadn’t yet, always slipping out the window after a few hours, never willing to fall asleep in his bed.

She reached his window, and he switched off his flashlight before helping her crawl inside. “It’s cute you wore a sundress in the dark.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “Are they asleep?”

Gage nodded then seized her in his arms and pressed his mouth against hers, letting his lips linger a few moments. Then he lowered her down until they were both sitting on his bed, their bodies pressed against each other. It wasn’t long until they were stretched out, his hands sliding along the contours of her hips and ass, her hands in his sun-drenched hair.

He started to undo a few buttons on her dress, testing her boundary line. She gasped for breath, as his tongue traced around her neck. She tugged at his shirt and lifted it over his head, eyeing his tan skin and toned abs. Her hand went to his neck and urged his lips harder. She clutched his back, needing him closer.

He undid a few more buttons on her dress, and her smooth breasts spilled right out, the angel wing pendent between them. He loved she never bothered with a bra. His dick fully hard, he caressed her breasts. She let slip a quiet moan and arched her back. He wanted all of her, every inch of her. And it was getting harder and harder for him to stop.

He saw the usual caution in her eyes, her head overpowering the ache in her body. But there appeared to be somewhat less caution than other nights. Perhaps she was fighting a decision about how far she’d let him go. He moved to her lips again, hoping to persuade her, and decided to take the next step. He wanted to feel her.

He slid his hand under her sundress onto the bare skin of her thigh, letting it rest there for a moment. She stiffened, but he let out a light, little chuckle, then felt her body relax again. He kissed down her neck onto her collarbone and moved his mouth to her breast, his tongue slowly circling her nipple. She arched her back and slid her hands to his waist, their hips grinding together, finding just the right rhythm between them.