3. Lyric, age 17
Chapter 3
Lyric, age 17
M y pulse thumps in my ears the faster I push my legs. I’m late. Colt and I were supposed to meet up twenty minutes ago, but my boss needed extra help at the flower shop. I couldn’t tell her no, as tomorrow is another busy Saturday for weddings. “Crap,” I mutter to myself again after looking at my phone. I’m officially twenty-two minutes late.
Tearing down the sidewalk, I’m thankful at least it is late enough that it isn’t congested with people. Today is our one-year dating anniversary. Three hundred and sixty-five days have passed since Colt gave me my first kiss then asked me to be his girlfriend. It had been his idea to meet up at our bench, the same one we sat at on our first date with our ice cream. I want to kick myself for almost ruining what should be a romantic moment. I did text him saying I’d be late, but I never heard back from him. I hope he isn’t mad. Colt and I barely ever fight. Our biggest argument was after he gave Jackson Pruitt a black eye for grabbing my butt at a party. I didn’t like the grab, but the last thing Colt needed was to get in trouble for fighting or worse, for the football coach to find out.
Colt is making a name for himself as the Wolverine’s youngest team captain. Despite being a junior, everyone on the team looks up to him and thrives under his leadership. He is versatile and can play both sides of the ball. He is already sitting at over one thousand rushing yards to go with his ten touchdowns, 250 receiving yards in seventeen passes, and he also has fifty tackles. His coach and several bigwigs in the community are already saying it is only a matter of time before colleges start scouting him seriously. Everyone is talking about Colt having an NFL career. Of course this only makes Colt work harder. He wants to play at Alabama then on a pro team. He’d never say it out loud, fear of what his dad thinks stands in his way of voicing what he wants; plus, he is beyond modest. He is the guy who is always first to praise his teammate or jump in to offer help when someone’s struggling. He accepts praise with a slight head nod and a practiced smile. No one but me, and maybe his best friend Zane, know how much Colt hates the hero worship. He shows up each week to play his favorite game and if that leads to an NFL career, then he’ll cross that bridge when, and if, he gets there.
Colt treats every part of his life with the same optimism as he does the game of football. When we disagree, he is the first to try and look at it from my perspective, which often humbles me and forces me to open up to him. After our first date, Colt and I became even more inseparable. It helped that we started out as friends and had the same friend group, so no one felt like we were leaving them out. It just became a thing that we arrived together and left together, holding hands and often sharing some PDA. I still get butterflies every time I see him, and each time we kiss and go maybe a little too far in the back of his blue pickup, I only fall for him more. He’s my addiction. The one person I think of before I drift off to sleep and whose face I want to see when I wake up in the morning.
By the time my feet hit the paved walkway, beads of perspiration are forming on my forehead, and my cheeks have been kissed with windburn. My neck is damp with sweat while my eyes swing around, trying to catch a glimpse of him. When our bench comes into view, my smile falls instantly. He isn’t waiting like I expected.
“Shit,” I mumble, taking my phone out of my jacket pocket and dialing his number. Of course it goes right to voicemail, so I shoot him a text message next. My heart drops to my stomach. It’s our anniversary and I stood him up. My body turns in a circle and I crank my head down other paths to see if he’s just walking around. The wind kicks up, instantly brushing my exposed skin with goosebumps. Shivering, I shove my hands in my pockets, then kick a nearby rock in pure frustration.
“I’m sorry, Colt,” I whisper into the air, wishing he could hear me, wishing he was standing with me. Tears burn my eyes and nose, causing me to sniffle.
“You know, it’s a good thing I’m a patient man.” His voice jars me into action. My body jerks around as he steps out from behind the large maple tree.
“You were here the entire time?” I ask, my brow quirking. I try to give him an irritated look but can’t. I’m just so happy he didn’t leave.
Colt watches me, his eyes sliding from my messy ponytail to the work uniform I still have on, since I ran right here instead of heading home to change. I fidget under the intensity of his gaze. It’s new, the way he’s looking at me, and it makes my stomach stir with emotions I can’t quite place. My skin heats, and my mouth suddenly forgets how to make words. “Come here. I want to show you something.” He motions for me to take his hand. I easily slide my chilled fingers into his warm grip. Colt leads me over the curb and behind the bench. I glance over my shoulder, making sure no one else is around, before following Colt around the maple tree.
“Happy Anniversary, Lyric,” he tells me, one hand wrapping around my waist and the other pointing to the tree. I glance from the tree to Colt then back again. My chest squeezes and I step out of his embrace to run my fingers over the bark. A deep, heart-shaped design has been cut right into the middle of the tree with the letters C+L carved inside it.
“Colt,” I say his name, my lips wobbling, and I can’t stop my fingers from running over every groove and cut of our initials.
“Do you like it?” he asks, stepping up beside me again, his arms folding over my shoulders.
“I love it,” I tell him, breathing out a shaky breath while tears run down my cheeks. His arms pull back until his hands rest on my shoulders. Gently, he turns me to face him.
“Then why are you crying?” He chuckles, and I grin.
“Happy tears, Street, happy tears.” I lightly punch his chest. His thumbs swipe under my lashes, before cradling my cheeks and tipping my head back so our eyes meet.
“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he asks, and I nod.
“I’d do anything for you, too.”
“Come with me to Alabama,” he says, eyes boring into mine.
“For college? Did you send in your application already?”
Colt nods his head, his eyes flaring with excitement, the same way they do before a big game. “I did. A lot depends on this season and obviously where my grades end up next year, but Coach says it’s a for-sure thing if I want it.”
“Oh my god, Colt!” I jump into his arms, my own wrapping tightly around his neck. “I’m so proud of you. That’s a huge decision.”
“So, come with me,” he repeats, setting me back on my feet. “I want you to be there. I can already picture picking you up from your Criminology or Psych classes and going out to a local wing diner after games.”
“Colt.” His name leaves my lips while my brain scrambles to answer. Have I thought about following him to college? Yes. Did I actually think it was something he wanted as well? No. I’m completely thrown. Alabama isn’t one of my top choices of schools, even though I know it’s his. The size of the campus alone freaks me out. I could do it, though, if I had him.
He leans forward, his forehead touching mine gently. “I love you, Lyric.”
My breath hitches in my throat while my lips form the biggest smile. “I love you, too.”
“Yeah?” He grins and pulls my body closer to his, those large hands settling on my hips. Biting my lip, I nod in response. Every bone in my body is a mushy puddle of love and giddiness right now.
“I’ll go with you,” I tell him, wrapping my arms back around his neck. Colt whoops before picking me up under my legs and spinning us in a circle.
“I promise you won’t regret it,” he tells me, our eyes meeting, his filled with promises, love, and so much heat.
“If I’m with you, there’s nothing to regret,” I answer honestly. Finally, after so many months, I can voice the feelings I’ve been harboring in my heart. All the emotions I can now identify make my soul feel lighter. The fact that Colt Street loves me and wants to be with me in the future is my wildest dream come true.
Our lips collide in a kiss full of passion, the intoxicated feeling of first love and the innocence of new experiences. Colt’s fingers dig into my hips and I feel him start to walk. I don’t bother asking him where we’re going or why we’re leaving. I can’t tear my lips from his. This connection between us right now is so new and fragile, another first in our relationship. His breaths are mine; my pulse beats only for him.
My feet don’t touch the ground again until we’re in front of his truck. My lips tingle, the sensitive skin around them feels puffy. Smug satisfaction ignites in my chest when I realize his are red and puffy as well. Without breaking eye contact, he pops open the passenger door for me. My brow quirks. “My curfew isn’t for another couple hours.”
“I’m not taking you home,” he answers, flames igniting in the darkness of his eyes. Colt closes my door and rounds to his side. The minute he’s inside the cab, he fires up the engine and we cruise out of town and head toward our neighborhood. His fingers find mine, pulling my hand to his mouth where he lays a gentle kiss on the inside of my wrist. Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” plays gently on the radio during the drive. Neither one of us speaks much, yet we never stop touching. If possible, I try to get as close as I can while also remembering we don’t want to crash. All I can think about is having his lips on mine and our limbs tangled around each other. Colt and I have been messing around and taking many of each other’s firsts since we started dating last year. My hands have slid over every muscle, dip, and surface of his chest and back. I’ve tasted him and he’s made a meal out of me. We haven’t crossed over into sex yet though. Mostly because I haven’t voiced being ready quite yet, and despite some other douchie guys in our school, Colt respects not crossing the line until I’m ready.
The drive feels like it lasts forever while also feeling like it went too fast. Colt parks his truck in his driveway, and I notice that the lights are out inside his house. I thank the stars above that my parents are away tonight at a parent/teacher social, and I’ll be home before them. Colt takes my hand and leads me up the front steps to the door where he takes out his keys and lets us in. The only light is a soft glow from the small light above the kitchen sink. It’s been years since I’ve been in Colt’s house. The last time being right after his mom’s funeral. He always preferred to hang out at Zane’s house or mine. I also noticed at that time his father stopped coming home during regular hours, and when he was home, he was mean to Colt, not caring that Colt’s friends could hear everything that was said. I quickly understood that Colt was embarrassed and we never played there again.
Glancing around, I can see nothing inside has changed. It’s as if the past has never moved on from that day, except for the shrine of pictures on the mantel of Mrs. Street, and Alex playing baseball, Alex in his uniform, Alex and his group of friends from high school. Not one picture of Colt is displayed anywhere. His medals and certificates are not placed in any spot of honor. Swallowing, I grip his hand tighter. His eyes glance to mine, giving me a reassuring nod with his head as if he’s used to it. My heart breaks for him and all he’s lost. I make a vow that from now on all of Colt’s accomplishments will be celebrated by us.
Colt leads me down the stairs and into his room. Even though we’re the only ones here, he still slips the lock on his door. The minute he turns back to me, my body crashes into his, my legs winding around his waist. One of my arms wraps around his neck while the other cradles his head, my fingers sinking into his long locks, curling them around my fingers. Colt groans into my mouth and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. I love that I make him feel that good.
His fingers skate over the exposed skin between the top of my jeans and where my shirt has ridden up, before sliding up my back and unclasping my bra. He takes us down to his bed, only breaking away to pull my shirt and scrap of lace over my head before dropping them to the floor. Straddling his lap, I grab the hem of his sweatshirt and rip it off of him quickly. His bare chest collides with mine and I startle from the heat contrast of our skin. Colt always runs hot and I always need him to warm me. We’re perfect that way.
Our eyes meet, silently communicating what our mouths are too busy to say right now. I move to stand between his legs while his hands impatiently tug down my leggings and underwear. My mind briefly touches on the fact that I’m completely naked in front of him for the first time before I hear his intake of breath. In the next second, my body is twisted so I’m underneath him, while he kicks his jeans off and onto the floor. I use my forearms to push myself back until my head touches his pillows. Colt’s body drapes over mine like a warm blanket, as he trails kisses over my skin that create a tinge of pink in their wake.
His hand slides between my thighs, two fingers easing into me, where I’m already aching for him. “You first, baby. I need this from you first.”
I don’t get a chance to answer before his lips are on mine again, stealing my air and taking my words. His tongue dances with mine while his fingers dip in and out, curling to rub in the place that will set me off. My body shudders under his touch, my hips lifting to grind against his hand. He groans, then his lips slide down my neck, kissing and biting before he nips at my earlobe. I shiver, the blood in my veins warming, while he continues making his way down my body. When his mouth closes around my clit, he hums in his throat, the vibrations instantly tipping me over the edge. My torso lifts from the bed, thrashing and clenching down on his fingers, while he holds me still.
Colt pulls away, a smug as shit grin on his face, and if I hadn’t just experienced an earth-shattering climax, I’d probably want to slap him. He crawls back up to me, taking my mouth with his. It should be weird, but it isn’t. I’ve already given him that first.
“I want you,” I tell him, finally able to speak. Our eyes lock. He smiles while adoration, love and a hint of nervousness pass through his features. For a moment, I almost forget this is a first for him as well.
“Are you sure?” he asks, nipping at my bottom lip lightly. I nod, completely speechless. I may have worked up the gumption to say I wanted him, but now I feel like the inexperienced virgin I am. My cheeks heat slightly and I’m instantly thankful it’s mostly dark in here, except for the glow from his desk light.
Colt raises himself above me and reaches his hand into the nightstand to grab a condom. Even though I’m on birth control, we’ve already talked about being extra safe. The fact that his brother had a kid young, a nephew he never sees, has made Colt extra cautious about preventing pregnancy, and I’m on board with that. In no time at all, he shifts his hips, lining himself up with my entrance and slowly pushing in.
My mouth opens in surprise at the uncomfortable stretch and twinge of pain. I knew this would happen. My hands clutch any part of Colt’s skin I can find, while I pull him to me. His kiss distracts me from the fullness and slight burn of having him completely inside me. As if sensing my body needs a moment to adjust, Colt kisses me slowly, each drag of his lips against mine is intoxicating until I start to relax around him. I feel his body start to move away, and on instinct, I pull him back in. This time, he glides in smoothly and the pain has dwindled to barely anything. We move together, in sync, both our heartbeats and our breaths. Every rock of his hips is met with a thrust back. Each stroke becomes harder, building and building. I hold on to his back, his shoulders, anything I can, and he doesn’t stop.
Colt shifts to brace himself on one arm while his other hand slides between us. The second he touches my clit, I’m gone again. I swear my eyes see stars, while my whole body warms. My eyes struggle to regain focus and when they do, Colt’s gaze locks with mine. He’s watching me, like I’m his reason for being, his lips partly open, a flush deepening across his cheeks. “Babe,” he grunts, before his hips stop thrusting, grinding into me three more times, before he stops and his head drops to my shoulder.
I have no idea how long we lie like that, my legs twisted around his hips, our chests stuck together with sweat. I can feel every beat of his heart against mine. The only thing my mind can focus on is just how perfect everything is, how deliciously sore my body feels.
“My heart’s racing,” Colt says after a while.
I chuckle softly. “Mine too.”
Eventually, Colt slides to my side, pulling me close and holding me. He plays with my hair, while the time I have until I have to get home ticks down. I breathe him in and push in closer. A sense of wonder and disbelief hangs in the air around us. Another piece of my heart leaves my chest and embeds itself in his, molding them together. In this moment, everything is perfect.