Chapter 17 #3
JJ grinned at me, one hand kinking the tube farther down the line, the other held up in surrender. “Truce? Remember, you’re the one who tackled me into the mud.”
“Because you laughed at me!”
“That’s true,” he admitted. “Let me make it up to you. If you promise not to retaliate, I’ll give you a gift.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What kind of gift?” It had to be good if he expected a ceasefire from me.
“It’s a pretty big dill, I swear.” Keeping his eyes locked on me, JJ used his free hand to find his discarded pants, dig around in the pockets, and withdraw…
a golden pickle? It took me a few seconds of staring to recognize the small plastic statue for what it was—the first-place trophy from the jousting tournament.
My jaw dropped. “Did you steal that?” No wonder he was acting so weird after my conversation with the event organizer.
“Does it count as stealing if I left behind a stack of twenties?” he asked, punctuating his question with a sheepish smile.
“Yes, you thief! I can’t believe you gave me a hard time for taking a head start when you had that in your pocket!”
“I wanted you to have something to remember today by,” he said quietly. “Is that such a bad thing?”
It hit me all at once—no buildup, no warning, just a surge of affection that left me breathless.
JJ kept talking, still trying to explain himself, but I wasn’t hearing the words anymore.
All I could make out was the soothing tone of his voice, the shape of his mouth as it moved, and how the world faded away from us.
I didn’t plan on kissing him. One second, I was standing there, heart swelling in my chest, and the next, I was moving—half a step, then another—until I was close enough to see a droplet of water caught on his lashes.
Then I rocked onto my tiptoes, and our lips brushed in a soft, inevitable motion.
The hose lay forgotten on the ground, cold water spilling at our feet.
JJ’s hands slid to the back of my neck, and he used the newfound leverage to draw my body against his.
When JJ and I finally pulled apart, we were both panting. For a moment, neither of us spoke, but the silence that filled the space around us was alive and pulsing.
JJ’s mouth quirked. “You have a leaf in your hair.”
Reaching up, I patted my head. My fingers met a tangled, matted mess. “Where?”
“Here, let me help.” He reached out and gently brushed it away from my hairline. His fingers lingered longer than they needed to, trailing down my temple and tracing the pattern of freckles over the bridge of my nose.
He said my name—a soft, breathy “Cara,” like nothing else mattered—and just like that, we were kissing again. This time it was raw instinct and no grace, but it made something coil tight in my lower abdomen.
“JJ,” I gasped as his lips left my mouth and followed a downward path.
“Mm-hmm?” he mumbled against my skin.
“I’ve never done this before, but do you have a condom?”
He froze, then leaned back so he could meet my eyes. “Yes,” he answered in a voice that was clear but gentle. “But… Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you for anything. I’m more than happy with just this.”
It meant the world to me that he was asking, but even with mud still smeared across our bodies, everything about this moment felt right—which was hilarious considering how I’d always imagined it going.
There was only one item on both my and Trixy’s bucket lists—Sinister and Sweet.
We were required to turn the assignment in to our counselor, so I came up with a code phrase for “lose my virginity.” The last thing we wanted to do was give seventy-year-old Mr. Cope a heart attack.
At the time, I hadn’t even kissed a boy, and my concept of sex skewed toward the overly romantic: a room lit with candles, a rose petal–covered bed, a sexy set of lingerie.
So that was how I hid the true meaning of our goal; I used the name of a local lingerie store called Sinister & Sweet Intimate Apparel.
The memory made me giggle. We were so innocent and naive at fifteen. Why had I even put such a thing on my list? It was ridiculous to think I could make something like this—a moment that was honest and real—happen the way it had today.
I didn’t need to have sex to finish my list. Number eleven was the one item I could leave incomplete and still feel proud of what I’d accomplished.
But this wasn’t something I needed to do. I wanted to.
And there was no doubt in my mind that JJ was the right guy.
All most people saw when they looked at him was the loud, brazen boy who liked to make people laugh, sometimes in a very crass way.
But the more time I spent with JJ, the more I realized how little that described him.
He was also caring and supportive and clever, and he knew how to push me outside my comfort zone in a way that wasn’t scary.
“Cara?” JJ prompted when I’d been lost in my thoughts for too long. He started to pull away from me. “We don’t have to do this if—”
“No,” I said, cutting off his protest with another kiss. “I’m positive. I want this. I want you.”
I’d never been so sure of something in my life.