Chapter 6 April 2003 #2
I stared down at my reflection in the water, not recognizing the man looking back.
I remembered our life together. Quiet lunches at school, sharing Pringles and cookies from Bronson’s Bakery.
Kent teaching me dance moves in his bedroom.
The stolen glances. The lingering touches.
The way his lips felt when he poured smoke into my lungs.
His hands. Gosh, his hands exploring me freely, his touch hot and full of raw, undeniable love.
“Do you love me, Kent?” My voice cracked, and I knew if he said no, it would end me. I’d sink down in that lake and make no effort to pull myself back up. Because a life without Kent Fox? Not interested. Not in the slightest.
“You’re my best friend,” he said, stroking my cheek. “Of course, I love you.”
I sighed, wiping away a falling tear. “Not like that. Not just … not just like a friend, Half-pint.” I’d said it.
The words I’d planned on saying. The admission I would never be able to take back.
I loved him, and he knew it. Kent struggled to breathe, each exhale accompanied with a cracked wheeze.
I looked up at him, staring him right in the eyes, and mouthed, “Please?”
Whatever he was struggling with, whichever battles he was waging in that beautiful head of his, they faded. Erased from existence with a long, beautiful exhale.
“Is it okay if I do?”
I nodded, hoping he’d say it so I didn’t have to.
The longer we sat there, the more nervous I became.
I tried to speak the words softly, but they came out in a frenzy; panic and passion and pure terror mixed together.
A cake baked with confusion; my love sprinkled on top to make it pretty.
“What do you think this is? Everything I’ve been saying, all of this, it’s because of you.
Because of how I feel about you.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I covered it with my hand.
I was there. Right where he needed me. He was scared, and I could take that fear away from him.
All it would take were three words I’d whispered in my head more times than I could count.
He kissed my palm.
“It’s because I love you,” I admitted. I scoffed at him, letting him see just how silly that question had been.
“Is it okay? It doesn’t have to be okay, it’s a fact.
I love you…” I took a deep breath. If this was it—our beginning—I needed him to know what he’d put me through.
Just how lost I’d felt without him. “Up until two months ago, I thought you loved me back. This is killing me. You hold her hand in front of me. Do you know what that does to me? I want … I want it to be my hand. I want it to be my hand you’re holding so bad.
Seeing you with her here, in our place, watching her slide her hand down your shorts—” I slammed my hand against my mouth.
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. He’d already accused me of stalking him, and there I was, admitting it.
“I wasn’t following you. I’ve been coming out here every night because I miss you so dang much.
” Tears were falling down my cheeks and I reached up to push them away.
He watched my every move. Every teardrop being shoved out of existence.
“Why did you have to let her touch you?”
“I was scared you didn’t feel that way about me. That you were catching on. I just didn’t want to lose you. Even if this was all we could have, just our friendship, it was enough for me. It was more than enough.”
“It isn’t enough for me. It’s never been. And now she’s… I wanted to be your first. To be your only, ‘cause you were gonna be mine.”
“I was?” He sounded like he was about to cry. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want him to feel as sad and lonely as I had been. “I want to be. I swear. All she did was hand stuff, nothing else.”
“Just hand stuff?” My mind was all over the place, my emotions running rampant.
Just hand stuff? Just hand stuff? She’d touched him.
She’d taken something she could never return.
“I’ll never get that back. The chance to be the person who does that to you for the first time.
I’ll always have to worry that I don’t live up to her. ”
“That’s ridiculous.” He rolled his eyes when I gaped at him. “No, it is. She yanked at it like she was trying to get salt out of a shaker. What you just did to me, how you just made me feel, I’ve been waiting for that, Gray. I’ve been praying for that. For you. I don’t like girls, not any of them.”
“You don’t?” I needed to feel him. Needed him to wrap me up and make me feel safe again. Pushing myself closer to him, I pressed my face against his chest and wept. Tiny, hollow cries that ripped away the last of my defenses.
“I’ve been hoping for you for so long,” he said, tugging my chin so that I was looking at him again.
He cupped my face with his hand and smiled so big, I thought it might just be the death of me.
“I love you. Would it be alright—I mean, would you mind…” He closed his eyes, touching his forehead to mine. “Can I—”
I leaned forward, taking control of his rambling mouth. Our mouths opened, and he sucked in my bottom lip, kissing me gently. His fingers combed through my wet hair, tapping the crown of my head twice before dragging it gently down until his hand was wrapped around the nape of my neck.
“Say it again,” Kent whispered. “Please, Gray?”
“I love you.” Our lips touched, then parted.
Kent opened, as if he was splitting himself wide-open, just for me.
It was like all of our lives we’d been working toward this moment, and with something as simple as allowing me entry, he was walking us into our future.
It was everything I thought it would be.
More. It was so much more than I’d hoped.
More than I could have even dreamed. “I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you, I love you, I love you, Kent Fox.”
***
The darkened light in Momma’s window told me she was sleeping by the time we got back to the house. Good. What we planned to do—the things I planned to do to him—I didn’t need her knocking on the door in the middle of what was about to happen.
I led Kent upstairs, his hands exploring my exposed skin every step of the way.
God. This was really happening. Kent was mine.
He was finally mine, and now he knew I’d always been his.
I felt dizzied by the revelation. Once we were in my room, he closed my door behind us.
I made my way to the bed, pulling my shirt over my head and kicking my pants off.
Standing in just my boxer-briefs, I faced him, standing on the other side of the bed.
His back was against the door, leaning against it and eying me up and down like he was drinking in the sight of me.
I blushed, because I’d never had anyone look at me the way he was.
Like I wasn’t just a lanky little kid who still got pimples at the slightest sign of sweat.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Grayson,” he said. “You’re sure? About this. Us?” He winced. “About me?”
Did he still not believe me? I was just as deep in this as he was.
I’d always been. I hooked my thumbs in the elastic band of my underwear, hands shaking so hard I didn’t know if I’d be able to actually push them down.
I waited for his approval—for permission—to introduce him to me that way.
The way I’d thought about it, every night, in the bed I was standing in front of.
Ever since I learned what happened when I twisted and tugged at it.
Kent licked his lips and reached for the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head.
I’d seen him shirtless more times than I could count, but something about that moment, seeing him stripping himself down, readying himself for me, it was like an explosion.
Thousands of bottle rockets shooting fireworks up into the Texas sky.
His pants came off next, and there he was.
Standing on the other side of the bed, white boxer-briefs that showed every curve and every crook.
My eyes lingered on his bulge, wanting to see my Half-pint bare.
I’d only ever seen it once, all those years ago in his bedroom after we’d danced our hearts out to the Spice Girls.
When I’d goaded him about his size to hide the fact that he’d just turned my entire world upside down.
At the lake, when I had my hand around it, it pulsed and twitched at my touch. I’d done that to him. He’d practically spilled over right there in the lake.
I climbed onto my bed, hobbling forward on my knees and holding my arms out toward him.
“Half-pint.” The words couldn’t have been louder than a whisper, but he mustn’t have needed much more than that.
He climbed onto the bed and crawled toward me, stopping when we were chest to chest. His thumb brushed against my cheek, and I knew that if this was the end—even if this were my last night on this earth—this thing we were sharing would be the defining moment of my life.
His lips ghosted mine, landing firmly on my jaw and leaving a trail of kisses up the side of my face. “Gray,” he moaned, light and low. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He pressed his lips against my neck, his hand brushing through my hair. “This is real? You’re not just—”
“I love you!” I blurted. “You don’t even know, Kent.
You don’t even know.” My hands were … Gosh, they were everywhere.
His shoulders. His back. His butt. I squeezed his cheeks in my hand, just needing to feel them.
The warmth of his skin. The light dusting of hair that grew on that beautiful backside.
“I’m in this. Me and you, Kent. I ain’t ever wanted anyone or anything more than I want you. ”
He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me close to him. “How long have you known?” Another kiss against my shoulder was all I needed to guide me through it.