12. The Past
12
THE PAST
TYLER
Anticipation thrums in the enclosed cab of my Chevy. I glance toward the hotel’s entrance. As soon as we pass through those doors, our relationship will change.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask Echo, who’s sitting beside me.
She turns toward me and smiles, her hazel eyes heartbreakingly trusting. When she looks at me this way, I’d do anything to not let her down.
“We’ve been dating for a while now.” She reaches across the space between us and takes my hand. “I’m ready for the next step with you.”
I hope she means it. I’ve never worried about sex before, but when it comes to her, I’m terrified of screwing up and making it so that she never wants to touch me again. Echo isn’t like the other girls I’ve been with. Our relationship is more than the casual fun I’ve shared with my former hookups. I just pray she realizes that.
I squeeze her hand. “I wish I could give you my first time.”
Her smile softens. “I don’t need to be your first.”
She nibbles her lower lip to bite back the rest of her thought, but I can read it on her face anyway. She may not be my first, but she hopes she’s my last.
I want that, too.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper, and run my hand over my hair. God, I’m a mess. “I always made fun of my friends if they said they wanted to hold out for something special, but now I regret not doing the same.”
“Hey.” Echo leans over and kisses me. Our lips touch and linger, but the kiss remains chaste. “Tonight will be special because it’s our first time. No one else matters, okay?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. My heart is hammering, and emotion clogs my throat.
“You’re important to me,” I tell her. “I feel like shit for not dating you publicly.”
I want to. I’d like to announce to everyone at school that she’s mine and be able to kiss her when I see her in the corridors, but the news would get back to Dad at lightning speed and his retaliation would be brutal.
If I knew for sure he’d only take his anger out on me, then perhaps I’d risk it, but I don’t want to put Mom or Soraya—or even Echo herself—in the line of fire.
Her expression is kinder than I deserve. “I understand. I might get frustrated sometimes, but I know why it has to be this way.”
Her tolerance only makes me feel worse. I wish she’d rail against me and tell me off for treating her like a dirty secret, but instead, she rewards my cowardly denial of our relationship with never-ending empathy.
Echo Dean is one-hundred percent a better person than me. If she’d put me in the same position, I can’t be sure I wouldn’t do something to force her to admit the truth.
“You’re sure?” I ask again.
She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Ty. Let’s go.”
She gets out of the car, slings her bag over her shoulder, and I meet her beside the flatbed. We walk side by side toward the hotel, our hands brushing, but I don’t wrap my arm around her the way I’d like to.
Coward.
The glass doors slide open as we approach and we step inside and stop in front of the desk, which is only a few feet from the doors. I guide Echo partially behind me, so the clerk won’t get a good look at her.
“Do you have a booking?” the clerk asked, their tone bored.
I hide my smirk. He’s barely paying attention. Good.
“Yes. For Johnson.”
He pulls out a book, flips through the pages, and makes a note. “Got it. You prepaid so no need to worry about that.” He opens a drawer and digs around, eventually emerging with a wooden keyring that had the number 102 stamped onto the side. He passed it to me. “You’re room 102. Down the hall to the left.”
“Thanks.”
I palm the key and cross the foyer, heading to the left and keeping myself between the clerk and Echo as much as possible. Hockey is big in Charlesville, so I’m reasonably confident he probably recognized me—even if he didn’t call me out on using a fake name. It’s less likely he knows who Echo is, and I’d like to keep it that way.
We’re silent as we walk to room 102. I stop outside and unlock the door, wondering briefly if the hotel owner knows how out-of-date it is to have actual keys rather than key cards. I reach inside and switch on the light. Echo brushes past me, smelling deliciously of strawberries, and dumps her bag beside the bed.
I look around, taking stock of the place. It’s a little clinical, with white walls, a white bedspread, and gray carpet. I suppose at least the white bedspread isn’t stained. The pillows and sheets are also white. If the light weren’t so dim, I might feel the urge to put on sunglasses to protect my eyes from the glare.
The bedroom isn’t the reason I booked this room though—although the fact the bed is king-sized doesn’t hurt. No, the thing that tempted me to bring Echo here for our first time is through the door to our right.
I open the door to show Echo, and she gasps with delight. In the back corner of the bathroom is a massive spa bath with heaps of buttons and dials.
“I thought you might like that,” I say.
She flies into my arms and kisses me. “I love it. We don’t have a bath at home. Can we use it?”
“Absolutely.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the travel-sized container of bubble bath I slipped in there earlier. “I even brought this.”
She beams, the gold flecks in her eyes shining happily. “You are the best.”
My chest tightens. Sometimes I wish it were more difficult to please her. It makes me feel like an ass that she takes so much joy in little things when there are so many big things I’m not giving her.
I want to do more than take from her, but the situation makes it challenging to give back the way I should.
I kiss her, then step away to start the bathtub filling. It takes a few minutes, but I figure out how to start the jets and turn on the underwater lights, which flash purple and blue. I empty the bubble bath into the water bit by bit, waiting a little after each addition to make sure the bubbles don’t go crazy and flood the room.
The last thing I need is to cause a scene.
Nearer to the doorway, Echo strips off her sweater to reveal a low cut short-sleeved blouse beneath. It isn’t designer, but it looks good on her, showing off the slight swell of her breasts and emphasizing the slimness of her waist.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell her.
She blushes. “You haven’t even seen all of me yet.”
“But I know you’re beautiful anyway.” She could be scarred from head to toe and she’d be the most stunning person I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her beauty is on the inside, and it shines brightly from every part of her.
I turn off the taps as the water nears the top. A floral scent fills the air, pleasant but not overwhelming.
I remove my sweater and my T-shirt in one go, baring my torso. Her quick intake of breath is gratifying. She’s never seen me shirtless before. Our stolen encounters haven’t been anywhere safe enough to start undressing, other than the night we watched the meteor shower, and it was too soon then. I didn’t want to push her.
“Your muscles have muscles,” she says. “That’s not a six-pack. That’s a twelve-pack.”
I grin and tighten my abs, her praise going straight to my head. I know I’m good looking. Girls fall all over me, and I have to keep my body in tip-top shape for hockey. But their admiration is only surface level, whereas Echo’s goes deeper. She isn’t here because of who I am or how I look. She’s here for me.
That said, it’s still nice to know she likes what she sees.
“Your turn,” I tell her.
Shyly, she grabs the hem of her blouse and pulls it over her head, revealing inch after inch of smooth, pale skin. My mouth goes dry as she tosses her blouse aside. She’s wearing a black bra that barely covers her nipples and is fringed with lace. It holds her sexy little tits up as if presenting them to me.
“Fuck,” I rasp out.
She trails one of her fingers across the top. “Do you like it?”
“I fucking love it, but if I touch you right now, we won’t be getting into the tub.”
Her smile becomes cheeky. “What a shame that would be.” She gestures at my jeans. “Your turn.”
I kick off my shoes and shed my jeans so fast that I almost trip over. I laugh. If I was with anyone else, I’d be embarrassed by how eager I seem, but Echo would never judge me for being myself.
Her gaze is locked on me, traveling down my legs, past my muscular hockey player thighs to my calves and my feet, then back up again. It settles on the bulge behind my underwear. I’m hard as hell, but I’m unsure if taking off my underwear without any warning might make her nervous.
With far more care than me, Echo removes her shoes and jeans. I gulp, my throat working furiously. Fuck me. Her panties are black and fringed with lace, matching her bra. I’ve never seen anything so goddamn sexy.
“You look like a dream.” A wonderful one that I hope I never wake up from.
She smiles bashfully and pinches the sides of her underwear between her fingers.
“At the same time?” she asks.
I nod and mimic her position. Slowly, we each draw our underwear down. Her pussy is neatly shaved—or perhaps waxed—and is delicate enough I could put my mouth over her without any trouble at all. It’s pink and welcoming.
I tear my gaze away just in time to see her unhook her bra and drop it to the bathroom floor. Her tits are small and perky, her nipples already peaked. I wonder if I can make them harder if I suck on them…
No, don’t go there. Not until after the bath.
“Like I said: beautiful.” I maintain eye contact, so she knows I’m speaking the truth. “So damn gorgeous.”
Her blush deepens. “You’re very sexy too.”
The words are quiet, whether from embarrassment or nerves, I’m not sure. My cock doesn’t care. It stands at attention, ready for whatever comes next. I ignore the demanding thing and try to keep my wits about me.
“Bath.” I sling one of my legs over the edge and into the water, wincing at the heat. “Be careful. It’s hot.”
I climb in, gritting my teeth until my body grows accustomed to the temperature. Echo dips her finger into the water, makes a face, and props herself on the edge. I lean against the back and close my eyes. We stay that way until the water has cooled enough for Echo’s liking.
She slips beneath the water and onto my lap. I wrap my arms around her waist and nuzzle the back of her neck. She reaches up and releases her hair from its tie. The tips dangle in the water and the movement wafts a soft, sweet scent toward me.
Her body is stiff, so I smooth my hands along her sides.
“Relax against me,” I murmur. “Let go. I can handle your weight.”
Slowly, the tension eases from her and she leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder. Her ass is pressed against my cock, so she must know exactly how she’s affecting me, but neither of us mention it.
Holding her like this is so nice that it’s easy to ignore my hard-on. She belongs in my arms. I never want to let her go.
I dread the day I’ll have to.