Authors: Cate Cameron
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Sports & Recreation, #Social Issues, #Emotions & Feelings, #Dating & Sex, #Marriage & Divorce, #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #canada, #teen, #crush, #playboy, #Family, #YA, #athlete, #Small Town, #Center Ice, #entangled, #Cate Cameron, #opposites attract, #hockey
Chapter Twenty
- Karen -
I was waiting on the front steps when Tyler’s truck rolled up in front of the house. He’d sounded weird and tense on the phone, and I’d had a moment’s doubt about dragging him away from whatever he was doing, but his answer had seemed sincere enough. “Give me ten minutes,” he’d said.
He made it to the house in five, and I practically ran over the lawn to climb into the truck after he pushed the door open for me. “You okay?” he asked. When I didn’t answer right away, he asked, “You have somewhere you want to go?”
“Anywhere. I want…anywhere.”
He didn’t ask any more questions, just pulled away from the curb and drove. The night air was still warm, and we drove with the windows down, out of town and into the darkness of a summer night in the country.
I wasn’t surprised when we pulled off the highway onto the increasingly familiar dirt road leading to our beach. It felt different at night, though. The headlights cut through the darkness, but when we pulled into the grassy parking area and Tyler turned the engine off, everything was dark. I could barely see him, and that actually made things easier.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid across the bench seat toward him. I’d hoped my closeness would be enough of a hint, but he didn’t move, so I took a deep breath and twisted around a little, bringing my left hand to his shoulder and resting my right on his thigh.
“What are you doing, Karen?”
“I must not be doing a very good job, if you can’t tell.”
“Yeah, okay, I think I can tell, but…why? I thought you didn’t want—”
My finger on his lips stopped his talking. “I changed my mind,” I whispered. I wanted to shut my brain off, wanted to stop telling myself everything was my fault. I wanted to stop trying to control things that couldn’t be controlled. Natalie had followed the rules, and look what it had gotten her.
I squirmed up onto my knees, then threw my right leg across his lap so I was wedged between his chest and the steering wheel. It was a good thing he had long legs or there wouldn’t have been room, especially since he wasn’t exactly contorting himself to make any of this easier. I froze at the thought. “Did you change your mind, too? You don’t want this anymore?”
He didn’t answer right away, and I was just about to launch myself back to my own side of the truck when I felt his hands come to rest gently on my hips. “I want it. You. I want you. I just don’t… What’s going on? Are you okay?”
I didn’t want to talk, so I leaned forward enough to find his lips with mine. He was hesitant at first, and it was kind of a rush to feel like the aggressor, like
I
was the one with all the experience who knew what she was doing. But it didn’t take long for him to get warmed up and get into it, and that was a whole different kind of rush, because damn it, the boy could kiss! His lips were warm and soft, his tongue firm but not invasive. His hands didn’t go anywhere too serious, but they ran over my head, my arms, my back, my legs with just the right amount of pressure. It felt like he was kissing my whole body, even though his lips barely left mine.
I was out of breath and almost trembling from adrenaline, but I wanted more. I wanted to turn my brain off more completely, and I wanted to feel even more connected. Less alone. I stuck my scabbed elbows out to the sides and brought my hands up to Tyler’s chest, where I found something other than his usual T-shirt. “Is this a tie? Are you wearing a tie?”
“I came from a team dinner.” He sounded a little out of breath himself, but now that my voice had broken the spell, he lifted his hands to my shoulders and held my body away from his. “What’s going on? I mean, if you want this, if you’re sure…that’s excellent. But I need to know what changed. I need to be sure you’re sure.”
“
I
changed,” I said almost fiercely. “I got tired of doing the smart thing all the time and trying to be careful. People still get hurt, even if they’re doing everything right.”
“If you’re looking for someone to do stupid things with you, you’ve found the right guy. But, seriously, this seems like it should probably be a conversation—”
This time I shut him up by running my hands down his chest and to the waistband of his dress pants. I had no idea where I got so brazen; I felt like I was drunk, or high, but really I guess I was just fed up. “I don’t think it should. No conversation.” No thinking, just feeling. I kissed him while I worked up my courage, then said, “Do you have a condom?”
He pulled his face away from mine and drew a deep, ragged breath, almost a gasp. “Seriously, Karen, I can’t keep being the good guy, here. Are you sure about this? Really sure?”
I wasn’t sure, really, but I kissed him anyway and tried to look confident. “Yeah. I want to.”
Things changed pretty quickly after that. Once he was convinced that I was serious, Tyler got serious, too. The easy way he pulled a rolled up blanket from behind the seat and fished a condom out of the glove box showed that he was practiced at all this. He spread the blanket on the grass and our clothes disappeared like magic, almost too fast, leaving me strangely disoriented. Then I remembered that I was
trying
to feel that way, trying to shut my brain off and let things happen. It would have been easier if I’d had something to drink, maybe.
My focus was clearly somewhere else, because it took me longer than it should have to realize that Tyler had stopped everything. I frowned at him. “What?”
He shook his head. “Okay, one more time…this is what you want?” Somehow, his sweet little-boy smile didn’t seem inappropriate, even when it was attached to a naked body I was still too shy to truly look at. “Because if you stop me now, I’m gonna be a bit frustrated. But if you stop me after this point, I’m really gonna be
pissed
.”
It didn’t sound like a threat. Instead, it was a reminder that as angry as he might be, he’d still stop if I told him to. Knowing that helped me relax. “No. I’m not going to change my mind. But…slow down a little, okay?”
And he did. His actions felt a little less polished at the slower speed, and I liked that. Before, I’d felt like my body was an equation he was trying to solve, a machine he wanted to fix; I had to admit he was a pretty skilled mathematician or mechanic or whatever, but it seemed impersonal. Once he slowed down, though, I felt like it was
me
that he was touching, and he seemed to know some tricks about my body that I hadn’t even figured out yet. Even though he’d said he’d be pissed if we had to stop, he still kept checking in with me to make sure I was happy with where things were going. And every time he checked in, it made me more sure. I’d started this because I was upset, but every time he paused, every questioning look or gentle, murmured “Okay?” made me realize that I wasn’t upset anymore. I wasn’t with Tyler because I wanted to forget; I was with him because I wanted to do something worth remembering.
Everything was in contrast to something else. His hands were gentle, but their skin was calloused and rough. The night air was cool, but his body was warm. His strength made me feel weak, but when I touched him and I saw how he reacted, I knew I was powerful. And as we moved together, I felt anchored to him, solid and strong, at the same time as I seemed to be soaring and flying.
When things finally wound down, I felt good about it all. It had been unplanned, that was for sure, but we’d been careful, and I really liked him. And lying there on the soft blanket, our limbs entwined, looking up at the stars… I felt peaceful and good.
For about three minutes; then, my brain turned back on.
“How was your dinner?” I asked. “I’m sorry if I dragged you away from it.”
“I’d much rather be here,” he said as he kissed the top of my head. The words were sweet, but there was something bitter in his tone.
I squirmed around a little so I could get a better look at his face. “Was it not fun? Like, boring, or…?”
“It was the parents’ dinner,” he said, as if that explained something. I just stared at him blankly. “My mom couldn’t make it, but my dad came.”
“And you and your dad don’t get along?”
He was quiet for too long.
“Natalie left,” I said abruptly. “Will’s wife. My stepmother. I don’t know for how long. I don’t really know why, except…I think it’s because of the cheating.”
He nodded slowly. “I wonder what took her so long.”
That was an interesting perspective. Actually, it was a logical, normal perspective. It was how I would have felt a couple weeks earlier, before I’d gotten used to the family’s Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy on paternal infidelity. I needed to think about that, but I didn’t want to do it right then. “Besides your dad, was the dinner okay?”
Another long silence, and I was just about to break it again when he said, “There
is
no ‘besides my dad’ when it comes to me and hockey. If he’s there, he’s all over me. All over the coaches, the support staff, the other players’ dads. It’s kind of out of control.” He sounded resigned.
I’d been so wrapped up in my own misery that I’d sort of forgotten that other people might have problems, too. “You said your family live up in Huntsville, didn’t you? How often does your dad come down?”
“During hockey season? Every game, and most practices. He pretty much lives here.”
“He doesn’t work?”
“Got laid off a couple years ago. Now he says his job is getting me to the NHL.” Tyler shook his head as if clearing out unpleasantness, and when he stilled I kissed him. He seemed happy to be distracted.
We stayed there together until we got cold and had to get dressed, and then we sat in the truck for a while, not driving or even talking. Finally, Tyler said, “My dad wants me to stop running. Wants me to stop seeing you, too.”
I was dressed warmly by then, but I still felt chilled. “Why?”
“He doesn’t want me distracted.” He shrugged. “Or he doesn’t want me out of his control. It’s hard to be sure which. Both, I guess.” He looked over at me and smiled. “Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t get to decide
everything
for me. He doesn’t get to decide that.” He reached over and wrapped his fingers around mine.
“I was going to ask if it was too late to get a ticket to the game tomorrow,” I said. “But maybe it’d be better to keep this a bit quiet.”
“No,” he said firmly. “It’s not better. At least not for me. If you want to come, I can get you a ticket. Absolutely.”
“You’re playing London, right?” He looked at me in surprise, and I grinned. “I looked it up.”
“I thought you didn’t care about hockey.” He was kind of digging for the compliment, but I didn’t mind giving it to him anyway.
“I still don’t care about hockey. But I’m starting to take a bit of an interest in a certain player. I hear he’s really good. Captain of the team, leading scorer. Nice muscles, killer smile.”
“Sounds like it’d be worth your time to go see him,” Tyler agreed. “Maybe if you play your cards right, he’ll ask you to do something after the game.”
“I can only dream about such a privilege.”
“Monday’s a big team day. We have to go to a bunch of public events and act like big shots. It’s brutal. And then school starts on Tuesday. I have a ten o’clock curfew from then on. Not on Saturdays, unless there’s a Sunday game, but we travel a lot on the weekends.”
I nodded slowly, then braced myself. “So, what are you saying? This was a summer thing, and you’re too busy during the year?”
“What?” He turned fast, his face genuinely confused. “No. I just… I don’t know. I guess
this
part of things—cutting out whenever we feel like it, swimming all day, having fun—that’s a summer thing, yeah. But spending time with you? No, that’s not something I plan to give up. Not unless you make me.”
Well, that was pretty much exactly the right answer. I wanted to kiss him, but I guess I’d used up all my brazenness on my earlier display so I just squeezed his fingers. He was the one who tugged gently on my hand, pulling me over so our lips could meet in the middle.
I was really glad I’d called Tyler. Sure, it wasn’t what I’d planned, and I’d jumped about fifty steps ahead of where I should be if I was following the regular relationship rules, but I didn’t care. Tyler and I could make our
own
rules, and the first one, as far as I was concerned, was that we should ignore what anyone else thought was right and do what we knew was good for
us.
The kiss got more heated, and I didn’t do a thing to stop it or slow anything down. I liked Tyler’s body, and I liked the way he made me feel, and I didn’t see any reason to keep myself from enjoying those things. Then I thought of Miranda, and all the other girls, and I wondered if Tyler had done all the same things with them. Probably even in this very truck, maybe even parked in the same place. It was all special for me, but for Tyler it was just routine.
He obviously felt my body react to my thoughts and he pulled away and looked at me quizzically. “You okay?” he asked.
“How many other girls have you brought here?” I asked. Then I quickly said, “No, sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask. I don’t want to know.”
He pulled even farther away, all the way back to his own side of the bench seat. Not quite what I’d had in mind. “None,” he said slowly. “Not here.” He shrugged as if he knew that was only addressing a detail of the problem, not the overall issue. “I can’t do anything about that. About the past. But I’ve never asked a girl to come to a game before. They’ve asked me, and I’ve gotten tickets for them sometimes but I never… I never
wanted
them there. Not like I want you to be there.” He looked at me as if trying to judge whether his words were making me feel better.
“Okay,” I said. It wasn’t ideal, but he was right—there was nothing he could do about it. So I forced myself to smile. “You’re pretty close to perfect in a lot of other ways, so I guess it wouldn’t be fair if there wasn’t at least one thing that I wasn’t crazy about.”
He smiled in return, but he looked tired. And he didn’t move back over to my side of the truck. “Do you need to get home?” he asked.
But I didn’t want to leave it like that, with me insecure and him sad and frustrated. “Can we swim?”