Chapter Fifteen
A fter that first time, we went on more excursions to the house.
We were emboldened by our ability to make it inside, to not run screaming in terror or get caught by the local police or a curious neighbour.
When it was too cold to go to the beach and we didn’t want to stay in our rooms where our parents could eavesdrop, we would find sanctuary there.
It wasn’t a whole lot warmer, but it had solid walls that shielded us from the wind, and it was somewhere we could escape to.
But it was always the five of us, never Ethan and I on our own.
We had become boyfriend and girlfriend without labelling it, but I had never felt like this before, so wholly consumed by a person, interested in everything about him – what he was thinking; what he was doing after we said goodbye.
I’d told him that he made me happy, and that I could kiss him all day, but we hadn’t made it much past kissing – though that was down to lack of opportunity rather than anything else.
There was one evening when he’d come to meet Mum, and while she’d been finishing the spaghetti Bolognese I’d taken him up to my room, and kissing on my bed had turned into me sitting astride him, his hands on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh as I’d writhed inexpertly on top of him.
He hadn’t seemed to mind my lack of sultriness, had groaned into my ear and whispered my name, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed.
When Mum had called up the stairs that dinner was ready, we’d both needed five minutes to get our breathing – and other things – under control.
He’d stroked my thigh under the table, and I’d been a ball of heat and pressure, distracted from the conversation for the whole of the meal.
Mum had declared, once he’d gone, that she loved him, and I was close to agreeing.
But then, one Friday in April, when the evenings were lighter, the sun had a little bit of warmth to it, and the house on the cliffs was calling to us more frequently, Mum said she was spending the evening with her friend Helen, so I told Kira I couldn’t make it that night, and that Ethan wouldn’t be able to either.
‘Oh, OK,’ she’d said blithely, then elbowed me in the ribs and pulled me in for a hug in the sixth-form corridor. ‘I’m so happy for you. Make sure he treats you right, OK?’
‘I will.’ I wasn’t confident about a whole lot of things at that point, but I knew I could rely on Ethan looking after me.
I met him after my English class at the end of the day.
He was wearing jeans and a grey T-shirt that showed off his tanned arms, his eyes hidden by sunglasses, and I sucked in a breath before greeting him with a kiss.
He seemed effortlessly cool, whereas I had tidied my already tidy room to within an inch of its life, taken the bus to a pharmacy three villages over to buy condoms at the weekend.
I would tell him – because I already told him everything – but not until afterwards.
I wanted to be his sexy, seductive girlfriend.
‘Ready to go?’ I asked.
He pushed his sunglasses onto his head. ‘You’re absolutely sure about this?’
‘Absolutely,’ I said, and took his hand.
When we got to mine, I had to undo both locks, which confirmed that Mum was still out.
Ethan followed me in, hovering in the hall behind me.
He was quiet, and I wondered if he was vibrating with tension like me, or if he felt completely calm about the whole thing.
I knew that neither of us had done this before, though he’d done a little more than kissing with a girl called Bethany in York.
I tried not to think about her or anyone else as I faced him, the afternoon sunlight filtering in through the glass panels in the door.
‘Do you want a drink?’ I asked.
‘No. I just …’ he stopped. ‘But if you do, we could—’
‘I don’t,’ I rushed out.
I took his hand and led him up the stairs, my arm twisting uncomfortably behind me but not prepared to let go – I thought this would be awkward enough anyway.
But people our age were having sex – Kira and Freddy, and there were girls at school who bragged about it all the time.
And the way I felt about Ethan, I wasn’t doing this out of any need to catch up.
I had always imagined I wouldn’t sleep with anyone until after school, until I was far away from Alperwick, but he’d changed that.
I tugged him inside my room and closed the door, trying to see the space through his eyes: the lights around my mirror, the cuddly turtle on a shelf above my bed, along with some framed photos of me, Kira, Freddy and Orwell.
There was a pair of jeans trapped in my wardrobe door as if they’d been trying to make a run for it.
But then Ethan closed the gap between us, cupped my face and tilted it so he could kiss me, and I realized he wasn’t looking at the room, only at me.
It was addictive, my blood heating as his kiss got firmer, more urgent, and I leaned into him, sliding my fingers under his shirt.
He flinched, and I tried to back away, but he held me firmly.
‘I’m ticklish there,’ he whispered against my mouth, ‘that’s all.’
‘Oh.’ I swallowed. ‘Good, I—’
‘We can stop at any time.’ He held my gaze, but I loved that his voice was fraying at the edges.
‘I don’t want to stop.’ I got to work on his shirt buttons, undoing them while he fumbled with the zip on my jeans.
As our clothes came off, I shed any doubts along with them.
His body was lean and toned, pale skin decorated with freckles that traced the shape of his shoulders.
He seemed so unselfconscious, so wholly focused on me and the layers I was stripping in front of him.
When I was down to my underwear, he reached behind me and undid my bra clasp, slid it down my arms and dropped it on the floor.
He brushed his fingers over my skin, staring down at me.
‘God.’ He swallowed. ‘George.’
He was only in his boxers, and I slid my hands inside the waistband, pushing them down. He groaned into my neck, and I felt a surge of elation.
‘Let’s get in bed,’ I said breathlessly.
I had imagined falling onto the duvet, wild with passion and lust, but this was real and we were both nervous and it was better, this slow exploration. I pulled back the covers and slid in, Ethan following me until we were lying, facing each other, the duvet tugged up to our waists.
‘You’re beautiful,’ Ethan said. ‘Georgie, I … I want to do this right.’
‘Me too,’ I murmured, even though I didn’t know exactly what that meant.
His hands explored me, smoothing over my skin, taking it slowly so my pleasure was a gentle build, and all I wanted was to get closer to him.
He kept checking in with me, asking if I was OK, if what he was doing was good.
The low tone of his voice sent tremors shivering through me, and when he leaned into kiss me, the tremors turned to sparks and our touches got more frantic.
He reached over to grab the box of condoms from my bedside table, and took one out. I felt dizzy, almost like I was floating, like there was this beautiful part of me that had been hidden inside all this time, and Ethan had found it.
‘This OK?’ he asked again.
‘Yes, Ethan.’
He stroked my hair off my forehead, pressed his lips there. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure,’ I said. ‘Are you?’
‘Yeah.’ His eyebrows were dipped, and I knew he was trying to show me how important this was, how seriously he was taking it, but his eyes were glazed with lust and his lips were swollen from our kisses, and I couldn’t help the giggle that burst out of me. ‘George?’ His mouth tipped up in a smile.
‘I’m just … happy we’re doing this,’ I whispered. Whatever happened, whatever it felt like the first time, I knew I was safe with Ethan. I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.
‘Me, too.’ He leaned over me, kissed me again. ‘Tell me if you want to stop. Any time, Georgie.’
‘OK.’
And then he was there, closer, and I gasped at the new sensations, the heat and tingling, his kisses drugging me, his hands everywhere, stroking and soothing, him whispering my name against my forehead, my cheek, my ear.
He was perfect, with his rumbling voice and his gentle touch, his body over mine, and I closed my eyes and gave into everything he was making me feel.
‘Georgie.’ His voice was rough, his eyes unfocused as he looked down at me.
‘Georgie, you are perfect.’ The words were exhales, dizzy and delirious, and I knew he was feeling everything I was, and it sent me closer, closer, until I was a flaring firework, limbs nothing but sensation, turning hot and sweet and satisfied.
Ethan stroked my hair, my cheeks, then kissed the places his fingers had been. I smiled at him, pressed up on a wobbling arm and kissed him, said his name into his mouth, and he followed me over the edge.
In that moment I knew that, no matter what happened in the future, I would always have this memory – me and Ethan, together like this – and nobody could take it away.