Chapter 18 – Vale
AFTERMATH
VALE
You know, it’s strange when you have your first sexual experience with another person.
There’s this explosion of longing that makes you ache beforehand.
It’s all you think about. Then after, you feel bereft, needing it back, only wishing for the return of that pleasurable completeness, the very act that brought the confusion and longing in the first place.
Oliver makes me feel a lot of things, and it’s been a constant reminder of how I’m failing to hide my emotions.
I can’t slip into bad habits, even if I’m in Silver Springs.
Oliver drives us back, and it’s much quicker and much more silent. I wish I could read his mind because whatever he’s turning over in his head creates an impenetrable wall between us. He hasn’t spoken to me since he started packing up my stuff. I don’t know if he will.
The first streetlight lights up the night. I feel like I’m running out of time. I struggle to keep still. “Hey, um—” I start, then roll my eyes. “I . . . ” Vale, wake up. Say something, anything!
“Oliver,” I say, but he doesn’t turn to look at me.
He doesn’t answer. I groan in frustration.
I don’t know what to do. I count down the miles left.
Three, two, then sadly one. Time is running out.
I’m on edge, afraid to let him go after what happened tonight.
Like some thief in the night who’ll disappear the moment I close my eyes. Had it all been a dream?
When I see his house, I know it’s too late. We're here, and I feel like I’ve failed him somehow. He seemed to shut down earlier. I was willing to accept it, so I went with it, but now I wish I’d done more, anything to make him feel better. I care that he’s upset.
At our driveway, he circles the loop in front of his house, then stops beside Gramps house, near the cut-through path. Shifting the Jeep into Park, he then just sits there, looking ahead. He’s tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, and I wish I knew what to say.
“Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed showing you the stars. I enjoyed—” He holds his hand up, effectively stopping me.
“Please, Vale, don’t. I’m struggling right now.
I can’t explain it to you. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.
Just know that I don’t regret anything we did.
Don’t think I’m running away for any other reason than protecting you from myself.
I’m not a good man,” he explains, but there’s something left unsaid and it echoes in my head as if it were his thoughts bleeding into mine. I’m not a man at all.
I take my seat belt off as I watch him. He’s still staring through the windshield, jaw clenched tight and seemingly lost. I don’t think he ever shows this part of himself to anyone. It’s a secret, one of many, I’m sure.
I get up on my knees and lean over the console.
Then I grab his jaw and turn his face toward mine.
I press my lips against his. The kiss is quick; I don’t linger.
It’s to show him I still care. With both of my hands on his cheeks, I force him to face me—the same way he forces my secrets to escape—then I pull away.
“Tonight meant the world to me, whether you realize that or not. Thank you.” He doesn’t reply. I realize I’m being dismissed, so I hop out. I open the back door and grab my stuff, making sure my phone is in my hand.
When I walk around the car, I’m startled to see him standing there. I give him a slight smile, then ask, “Can I ask you to do a dumb thing?”
“Depends on what it is,” he answers.
I feel so silly, but I continue, “Can I take a picture of you?”
Oliver surprises me when my question makes him laugh. “That’s all. I thought it was going to be something like let’s do a seance together.”
I scrunch my nose. “No way! I don’t need to chat with dead people.
Do you know the whole town thinks your house is haunted?
I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve sat on the platform, laughing my ass off while I watched drunk teenagers try to build up enough courage to walk through the front door of your house.
Kat said it was a rite of passage. I wonder what they’ll do now?
Doesn’t look like a haunted house anymore, so they’ve lost interest.”
I hold my phone up when he smiles, a moment before he starts laughing, and take the picture. I’m sure he’s perfect in it, so I don’t look at it.
“Sneaky girl,” he says with a chuckle. “Do you think it’s haunted?”
I think about his question. “I don’t think it’s haunted, but you’re the only one who knows that real answer. So, is it haunted?”
Oliver smirks at me. “You’ll have to find out for yourself. That is, if you’re brave enough to step through my door.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Right.” I start walking, leaving him by his car.
I make it to the path before he stops me. “Wait,” he says, grabbing my phone out of my hand. “Don’t send Kat that picture of me. Send her this one,” he says. Oliver holds the phone up and pulls me closer. He kisses my cheek and holds it while I smile. He snaps the picture.
“That one is for Kat,” he says, keeping the phone held up.
He leans his head back on my shoulder and snaps another one. “That one is for you.”
Then he grabs my jaw in his left hand, forcing me to face him, and looks into my eyes. “This one is for us.”
My mouth drops open when his eyes fill with heat. His tongue licks at my lips, and I hear the camera shutter go off. “Send that one to me as soon as you get inside,” he demands with a wink.
“Okay, I will. How did you know I wanted to send a picture of you to Kat?”
“I thought you would want to tell her about tonight. Girl talk,” he says with a smirk.
“I’d never tell her about tonight.”
“Why not, ashamed of me?” he asks, and I laugh. How could I ever be ashamed of him? Impossible.
“Of course not. What happened tonight was flat-out tame compared to the shit she tells me.” I yawn. “When you give me something juicy to tell her, then I will.”
That makes him laugh again. “Yeah, I didn’t think dry humping under the stars could be so hot. You’ve proven me wrong.” He smiles at me, trying to school his face. “Good night, Vale, sweet dreams.” He winks at me before kissing me on the lips quickly.
“Good night, Oliver,” I say in a breathy voice.
He escorts me to the back door, then I watch him walk away. I wave when he looks back. I can’t wait to see those pictures.
“Hey, Vale,” he calls out. “Remember dinner at seven at my house. Tomorrow night. If you’re brave enough.”
I hold my thumb up in agreement, rolling my eyes, then he takes off into the night. I wonder where he’s going, but he’s not mine and I’ve no right to ask.
I close the door behind me. The only light on is a small lamp beside the back door. It fills the kitchen with a warm orange glow. It’s not so late, maybe midnight. I haven’t looked at the time because when I’m near him, I forget everything else. Nothing else matters.
I sit my stuff down on the kitchen island and step over to the sink. I’m looking for evidence of Gramps’s dinner, but all that’s in the sink is a crystal tumbler. He’s gotten into the scotch. Good for him. He rarely drinks.
I wash the tumbler out and sit it in the dish rack on the countertop. I’ll put it back in the office tomorrow. I don’t want to take the chance of waking him up.
After I chug a glass of ice water, I grab my stuff, and turn the lamp off. I’m enveloped in a darkness that’s surprisingly complete, but it doesn’t scare me. I feel at ease in the darkness, always have.
I make my way up the rear staircase to my room. As I sit everything down on the bed, my phone chimes. I know it’s Oliver and it makes me smile. I guess he’s okay now.
I unlock the phone and pull up the pictures, opening the first one.
I knew it would be perfect. He’s standing there, leaning against the Jeep, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned at the collar.
His long hair is tucked behind one ear and falling in long, wavy strands on the other side.
He has this secretive smile, his mouth opening right before he’s going to laugh.
One of his arms is bent at the elbow, his hand in his pocket, and his long legs stretch out in front of him.
Oliver is so beautiful, but this picture is everything. He’s right, I shouldn’t send it to Kat. That moment is ours, between him and me. That smile belongs to me and no one else.
I swipe the screen for the next picture.
This is the one he told me to send. He’s making me the center of it, and he looks like a man in love, a man who wants me if only I’d give him the time of day.
I look so carefree, like I’m not intimidated by the gorgeous man who's kissing me on the cheek.
I look confident. Somehow he knew I would.
I swipe again, and in this picture he looks relaxed.
His head is tilted back on my shoulder, his face close to mine.
His eyes are so green they glow. My cheeks are pink, and I look at him from the corner of my eye.
It looks like I’m imagining what he’d be like in bed.
Like I’m dreaming of our future together. It looks like he’s mine.
I swipe again. The breath that rushes out of me is complete shock.
From one picture to the next, we both change.
Now his hand is cupping my jaw, his thumb on my swollen bottom lip.
His head is tilted to the side with his long hair curling against his neck.
My mouth is slightly parted in surprise, my eyes full of arousal.
His eyes are so dark, so shadowed, the green has all but faded.
Oliver looks at me as if he covets my lips, my soul.
He didn’t catch the moment he licked my lips, but it looks like we’re about to kiss.
We look like two stars that are about to collide and explode in bright flames, destroying us both.
It’s prophetic. This is our truth. I can’t help to think he did this on purpose to show me.
Is he trying to tell me something?