The First Taste by Jessica Hawkins

Author:Jessica Hawkins [Hawkins, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Jessica Hawkins
Published: 2016-08-03T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

Andrew rests as I head into my bathroom, working the aches out my arms and legs. Once I’ve cleaned myself up and started the tub faucet, I catch a glimpse of my reflection. I’m red in the face, as if I’ve just done sprints, and my hair is tangled and damp around my neck. I look owned, as I wanted to be, and I know Andrew likes that, so I resist the urge to fix myself up.

I pass through the bedroom, where Andrew lies on the bed with his eyes shut, to the kitchen. I pour two drinks before dropping them off in the bathroom.

Andrew’s clearly passed out, but he knows the rule about sleepovers, so I don’t feel bad waking him. “Your bath is ready, sir.”

His answering sigh turns into a soft laugh, but his eyes remain shut. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Sure you weren’t.” I smile, return to the bathroom, and shut off the faucet.

“Or maybe I was,” he says as he comes in, scratching his hair, mussing it in every direction. “Was it a dream?” he asks. “Or was it really that fucking good?”

Something about seeing all of him in the dim lighting, his tall, broad-shouldered frame and colorful torso, makes me warm and fuzzy inside. I put my arms around his middle. “The second one.”

He takes a second to hug me back, an almost imperceptible hesitation. “I hoped I’d end up here tonight,” he says, rubbing my back. “I’m glad I did.”

I smile up at him. “So am I.”

He isn’t smiling. “How glad?”

I loosen my arms enough to pull back. It’s likely my sudden affection has caught him off guard. Me too, a little. It’s hard not to feel closer to him after what we just did—and after spending an evening with his family. That doesn’t have to mean more than it does. It isn’t an invitation to stay the night or anything. I drop my eyes to his chest. “I’m not sure.”

“Amelia.” He waits until I look up again. “It’s okay. I want you to be honest.”

Honesty. It’s what we do. It’s the main reason we’ve made it this far. “Tonight was different,” I admit. “We might’ve broken through a few walls without meaning to.”

He nods. “I think so.”

“It’ll make things harder when we part,” I continue. “Maybe I’m okay with that, though.”

He raises both eyebrows. “You are?”

The alternative is that tonight didn’t happen, and I wouldn’t take it back, so the only option is to be okay with it. “Yes. I mean, it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep going down this path, but—”

“Why not?”

I tilt my head at him. “Because I won’t always be okay with it the next day. We’re already having a nice time tonight, so we might as well just . . . keep doing that. We can’t really go backward, can we?”

He studies me, expressionless. I have no idea if I’ve completely scared him off or if he understands what I’m saying.

I keep talking. “We’ve crossed into different territory. Anything after this would be a conscious choice.

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