That Boy (26 page)

Okay, so I can't flip it since it's up in pins.

My point is, I haven't been totally hypnotized by his charm.

I'm holding my own.

My dad used to call Danny a
chick magnet
. 80's slang for what would probably now be referred to as a player. Anyway, I've thought it was a good way to describe him. But I've always been like an opposing magnet. We tend to butt heads.

Tonight, I think I've become like, you know, a wimpy paper clip or something. I can't help but be drawn to him, and I'm totally incapable of resisting his pull.

We finish dinner too early to go to the dance, so we retreat to the limo, and Danny tells the driver to just cruise around. We really aren't paying attention to where he is going because we are sitting in the back, drinking champagne and seriously making out.

You know, I never wanted to be cliché and do it on prom night, but let's just say that issue is currently under advisement.

What it really means is I haven't made up my mind yet.

I have determined though that
if
I wanted to, Danny could be the perfect guy for it. I mean, I love the guy. And why not do it with a friend? Someone you trust and are comfortable with. Not some stupid, loser, slut-loving boyfriend.

And didn't Phillip tell me I should think about doing it with a friend?

So why wouldn't I?

Well, cuz maybe you're afraid of ruining your relationship?

See. I really can't decide.

We go to the dance, and I have fun dancing with Danny. I especially enjoy how he holds me when we slow dance and how he keeps playing with the loose strands of hair that have fallen out of the back of my updo.

Memo to self: Updos and passionate limo kissing are not a good mix. Especially when date is enthralled with your hair and can't seem to leave it alone!

Which I am totally not complaining about, even though it is rather hypnotic.

I manage to get in a slow dance with Phillip, while his date is throwing up in the bathroom.

Too much champagne for her. Silly girl.

Speaking of champagne, Danny and I drank a whole bottle, but I feel fine. Although come to think of it, Danny had most of it, and occasionally, he's taking nips from a flask of vodka hidden in his tux pocket.

Hey, where's mine?

Why aren't we sharing?

Come on! Get me drunk and take advantage of me.

Please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He seems sober enough, but sorta nervous. That's so not like him. Why in the world would he be nervous with me?

I may be a bit confused, but certainly not nervous. It's just Danny, for goodness sake.

Billy Prescott and Katie are named Prom King and Queen and at a little after eleven, Danny and I leave, get dropped off at the hotel and go to our room. A bunch of us went together and booked the whole floor of the hotel. We got the whole hotel thing past our parents by swearing we were all just going to crash in the rooms and that way they wouldn't have to worry about anyone drinking and driving. At least that was my explanation.

God, I miss them so much.

Anyway, there's kind of an awkward moment when we first get to the room. I know we're just supposed to crash here, but you can't exactly ignore the big bed in the center of the room and what it implies. I mean there might as well be a neon arrow pointing down to it, with the words,
HAVE SEX HERE
, flashing at us.

Okay, now I
am
nervous. I seriously need a drink. Thank goodness, Danny brought more champagne to the room.

As he opens the bottle, I sit on the bed. He seems much calmer now, back to his confident self, as he pours champagne into little plastic cups.

“Cheers,” he says. In one long drink, he drains his cup, then sets it on the nightstand. I barely get to take a sip before Danny grabs my cup. I'm about to protest, but he looks at me, runs a finger across my cheek and kisses me sweetly.

The kisses don't stay sweet though.

We're
really
kissing.

And when he starts kissing down my neck, my sensible mind goes completely fuzzy. Especially now that he's running his hands through my hair and tossing the bobby pins he finds onto the floor.

God!!!!!!!!!!

It's like he's
undressing
my hair!!!!

Pretty soon his kisses get, well, urgent, and his hands, well, they have been everywhere
but
in my hair.

Oh, I like this.

But…Shit!

Decision time.

I start to panic, so I stop the kissing, grab my cup, and take another drink.

A BIG one.

Relax, JJ.

Danny pours himself another cupful of champagne. Which is good. It gives me a second to think without his kisses clouding my judgment. But I only get a second because he slams his champagne, sets his cup down, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. And I just sit there and watch.

Yes, I have seen Danny shirtless many times, but I am still dazzled.

Because he is not just whipping off his shirt cuz he's hot, he is taking his shirt off
for me
.

He's getting naked,
for me
.

And, well, when his shirt hit the floor, I'm pretty soon my judgement walked right out the door.

We kiss and stuff some more.

It all feels so good, and evidently, my body decides to take control. I hear a husky voice, which I'm shocked to realize is my
own
, suggest, “Why don't I change into something more comfortable?”

Where did that come from?

You always hear that on movies, and just once I'd like to see somebody come out in baggy old sweats and a T-shirt. But no, it is always beautiful lingerie.

Which I happen to have in my bag.

What? I was just trying to be, you know, prepared for every possibility.

Plus, if I am going to do this, I'm going to do it right. Not be half undressed in a twisted up prom gown.

So I go in the bathroom, brush out my hair, run my toothbrush across my teeth, and slide into the silky lingerie.

I hurry.

I swear!

I was only in there for like three minutes.

And I've been imaging what the scene will look like when I go back out to Danny. I picture him lying on his side, diagonally across the bed, his arm propping up his head. His muscles ripple and his eyes have that come hither look.

You know, the sexy way all those soap guys pose, while waiting for their lover to get into something more comfortable.

I take a deep breath and open the bathroom door.

I can't believe I'm
finally
going to do this.

And with DANNY!

Gorgeous, Wonderful, Incredible, Hot, Sexy, Addictive Danny.

I saunter out, making my grand entrance, expecting to see Danny looking at me in awe, his eyes full of lust, passion, and love.

I gaze out and see Danny lying across the bed, his back toward me, wearing nothing but pair of sexy, silky boxers. His tuxedo is piled on the floor at the end of the bed, and there's a condom laying on the nightstand.

I want to scream and clap out loud because I'm pretty sure that means Danny wants me.

Me!

In the bathroom, I worried a little because he hadn't said, you know, lets do this. I just sorta assumed he wanted to based on the things he was doing to me, and I was thinking how embarrassing it would be if I came out here all lingeried up, and he like turned me down.

So I feel happy!

God, even that boy's back is sexy!

I coo, “Danny.”

I'm practically vibrating with excitement, as I wait for him to roll over, to see how amazing I look, to pull me into bed with him, and to finish what we started.

But he doesn't move.

Okay, so maybe he has a different version of this in his mind, and I'm willing to play along!

So I hop over his tuxedo and saunter sexily around the bed.

Here I come!

No way.

Oh, shit.

You have GOT to be kidding me.

I don't see eyes full of lust, passion, and love. Instead, I see that Danny has thrown up in the trash can and is passed out on the bed.

Seriously?

But I'm not about to give up yet.

“Danny!” I say, as I plop down on the bed and give his shoulder a push.

But he doesn't wake up. His mouth falls open, and he starts to snore loudly.

Great.

Just %@!$*** great!!!

I stomp back into the bathroom, take off the damn lingerie, and angrily shove it back into my bag.

That's it!

Victoria's Secret and I are through!

I'm definitely going to start wearing ratty, old lady underwear, because every time I wear the good stuff, I can't even pay to get it seen!

While contemplating my lack of sexual prowess and my slim hopes of ever having any, I put on my swimsuit, a pair of khaki cargos and a little black tank top.

The post-prom party is in Billy Prescott's suite. His room's got a hot tub. We're supposed to show up anytime after midnight.

And I figure if I can't manage to lose my virginity, then I damn well am going to get drunk.

While I did bring clothes to wear to the party, honestly, I was hoping that I would be too wrapped up in Danny, and I mean that both literally and figuratively, to attend.

Now, I have nothing better to do, and it's only 11:45.

I don't want to be the first one there!

And dateless, no less.

Shit.

I hope Jake's not there. That's all I need.

No. He's probably off somewhere doing it.

As I walk out of my room, I see Phillip walking down the hall alone.

I whistle and say, “Hey, you looking for a good time?”

“Actually, I am,” he replies very seriously.

I don't think his night has gone exactly as planned either.

“Where's your date?” I ask, as he walks toward me.

“Well, after she spent most of the night puking in the bathroom, I decided to call the game. I took her home.”

“And where's
your
hot date?”

“Threw up in the trashcan and passed out. Wanna go to the party with me?” I bump his side with my hip.

“I have a better idea. Did you bring a swimsuit?”

“Got it on. What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I didn't tell anyone, but my room has a hot tub too.”

I look at him in surprise.

He shrugs, “I didn't want anyone to know because they'd all want to party in it, and it was just supposed to be, you know, for Carrie and me.”

“Well aren't you the sneaky little bad boy!”

I mean he didn't even tell me!

I feel bad for him.

He really did have big plans for tonight.

“I guess I'm just gonna have to be your date for the rest of the evening, Phillip, beings you are my, uh, close friend.” I smile at the sweetie, grab his hand, and we start walking back to his room.

Phillip and I sit in the hot tub and talk. It's wonderfully warm and relaxing in here. I lean back and put my head on his broad shoulder.

I must have gotten a little
too
relaxed because I think I may have dozed off.

Whoops.

“Hey Princess,” Phillip says, gently waking me, “lets get out of here and get some sleep.”

“Fine, but I'm sleeping in your room. Mine smells like puke.”

“All right, but it'll cost you.”

“How much?” I squint my eyes, ready to deal.

“Didn't I hear you telling Katie about some sexy lingerie?” He gives me a sexy grin.

“Phillip. I have so given up lingerie. It's like a bad boyfriend, all it ever does is let me down. You get me in sweats and one of your old T-shirts. You got a problem with that?” I point my finger into his chest.

“No ma'am,” he smiles and gives me a salute.

We lay in bed, and I put my head on Phillip's shoulder. What is it about Phillip's shoulder that makes me instantly relax and fall asleep?

I'm so lucky I have Phillip.