Instead of You (3 page)

   “Girls don’t normally sleep in bras, Cory.”  His hands came to my hips again, but this time they moved south.  He let out a soft groan when his hands smoothed over the edge of my nightgown, which only fell a few inches below the curve of my rear.  Suddenly, his hands moved down even farther, wrapping around the back of my thighs, lifting me.  I stifled the yelp I wanted to let out in surprise, and wrapped my arms and legs around him.

   He slowly lowered me to my bed, letting his body cover mine, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other pressed against the mattress by my head.

   “This is the best anniversary gift ever.”

   I rolled my eyes playfully, watching a smile spread across his face before he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of my neck.  “I wasn’t expecting you, Cory.  I didn’t put this nightgown on for your enjoyment.”

   “That’s not going to stop me from enjoying it.”  His mouth moved along my neck and I bit down on my bottom lip to keep quiet.

   “My parents are just down the hall,” I whispered. 

   He pulled away and looked me right in the eyes, his nose an inch or two from mine.  “Then you’re going to have to be really quiet.”

   Before I could think of a response his lips were kissing mine.  As if it came naturally, my knees spread, making room for him, and I felt every movement as his hips settled between them.  The rubbing of his denim jeans against the bare skin of my thighs, the zipper of his hoodie snagging on the soft cotton of my nightgown; I felt it all.

   This wasn’t necessarily an uncommon occurrence for us.  We made out often, as any seventeen-year-old couple would.  Almost any chance we got alone we spent exploring each other, but I had never let it go very far.  Up until that point, our clothes had always remained on, and he’d only ever felt me up on the outside of my shirt.  So to feel him hard, pressing against me, well, that was something new to experience.

   It had taken me a while to warm up to being Cory’s girlfriend.  It felt strange and awkward at first, as though it were forced, which made it uncomfortable.  But then, one day, I had a moment of realization where I stopped looking at Cory as the boy everyone expected me to spend the rest of my life with, and looked at him as though he were my boyfriend in that very moment.  No history, no future aside from our plans the next weekend.

   I took the pressure off our relationship and realized it was easier to be with him, easier than constantly thinking about how much everyone expected of us.  And even though I wasn’t looking into the future with Cory, he definitely was.  He’d immediately told me he loved me, which caused an epic panic attack.  It was two weeks after his sixteenth birthday. He’d taken me to a fancy restaurant, and from across the table, with a lit candle flickering in between us, told me he loved me.  He said he’d always loved me.  And while I’d always loved him too, it’d been my best friend I’d loved, not my boyfriend.

   When I couldn’t say it back, when I wasn’t even sure I’d ever be able to say it back, he simply reached across the table, took my hand in his, and told me he’d wait forever—that he knew I’d come around.  He’d been waiting almost a year to hear me say those words, and I still wasn’t ready.

   There were nights I’d lie awake and think about him, think about us, and wonder if I was being fair to him by staying with him, but caring too much about someone seemed like a terrible reason to end a relationship.  Because I
did
care about Cory, so much, but I worried it wasn’t the same way he cared about me.  I also worried that even though he said I’d come around in time, I never would.

   All these heavy thoughts seemed to float away like vapor when he kissed me though.  When his hands drifted over my body my mind shut down and I didn’t think about anything except the way he made my body feel.  Tonight was no exception.

   My nightgown was a very thin divider between us and offered no buffer to the way his hands were roaming over my breasts, the way he tentatively palmed me through the cotton, gently squeezing.  I gasped, my mouth breaking free from his, and my back arched off the bed.  I wanted more friction, wanted him to not be so tender with me, but a tiny voice in the back of my mind told me that was slutty, made me feel dirty in some way for wanting those things.  It was hard to wrap my mind around, especially when Cory’s hands were on me, doing things to me that made me feel good.  I just always seemed to want it to be… more… in some way. 

   His hands left my breasts, sliding down, and he sat up a little when they reached my hips.  His fingertips started slowly bunching up the material of my nightgown, pulling it up to my waist.  His eyes were locked on mine, silently and respectfully asking permission.  I gave him a slight nod, wanting to feel my body on fire again, and my breath hitched as I watched him pull my nightgown all the way up, then over my head, revealing me to him for the first time ever.

   I was trapped in a weird moment where I desperately wanted to watch his face, to see his reaction the first time he saw me nearly naked, but I also felt more than a little embarrassed and fought the urge to cover myself.  Cory, the boy who’d pulled my pigtails in kindergarten, who’d seen me throw up in the bushes during our families’ annual camping trip, was looking at me topless.  My best friend was looking at me as though I were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and I had to remind myself that he was my boyfriend, that I should be excited that he wanted to see me naked, not embarrassed. 

   However, much like all our previous encounters of the physical nature, my thoughts ceased when his hands came to my skin.  When the warmth of his skin slid over me, my eyes closed and I was no longer looking at my best friend, I was only feeling.  His fingers slid up my skin and I nearly cried out, the tension in my nipple surprising me.  They were tight and hard, practically aching, and I needed something to take away the ache.

   Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to feel Cory’s warm tongue circle one of them.  We’d never been this intimate with each other and I didn’t think he’d be that bold, but I was obviously mistaken.  A low moan left me as his mouth closed over my nipple, one of his hands palming my other breast.  He sucked me further into his mouth and tingles shot throughout my body while warmth flooded between my legs.

   I was moaning and squirming beneath him, trying to deal with all the new and powerful feelings, but also trying to keep somewhat of a level head.  We’d never gone this far before, but I knew I didn’t want to go any farther.  One step at a time.  I didn’t want my first sexual experience to be in my bedroom while my parents slept down the hall. 

   “Cory,” I whispered.  He stopped immediately and slowly removed his mouth from me, only to rest his forehead right between my breasts and let out a groan.  “You should go.”

   He took in a deep breath, but then lifted his head and his eyes found mine in the dark.  “I love you,” he said.  His voice didn’t sound loving, it sounded exasperated, and I heard a “but” coming.  “Why don’t you trust me?”  Ah, the “but” came in the form of a question.

   “I do trust you.  I’m just not ready.”  I tried to keep my words calm, but I was tired of always having to tell him to stop.  I wished he’d stop himself sometimes.  “You
know
I’m not ready.” 

   He let out another breath, but this time it was louder and he pushed off me.  I pulled a blanket up to cover myself and sat up, readying myself for the argument we’d had a few times already.  It always came back to me.  He didn’t understand my mixed signals.  And I would be the first to admit I sent them.  There were times, like two minutes ago, when I was totally into it.  Times when I wanted to
feel
something, to know what that level of connection felt like.  But I also wondered, in the back of my mind, why I didn’t feel more connected with Cory to begin with.  I didn’t long to feel connected to
him
, I just wanted to feel.  And it was those doubts that stopped me.

   Regardless of all that, I stood firm in my belief that if I wasn’t comfortable, for whatever reason, it was my right to be so and to stop him.  I didn’t like that he sometimes got angry with me for putting the brakes on.

   He stared at me for a moment and then flopped on his back, making the mattress shake.  He raked his palms down his face and then rested his hands above his head.  After a quiet minute he rolled toward me.

   “I’m sorry.  You’re right.  I’ll try to keep myself under control in the future.”  Another but was coming.  “But, sometimes McKenzie, it really feels like it’s not sex you’re unsure about.”

   Panicking a little on the inside, wondering if I were truly that transparent, I had to steel myself on the outside because the last thing I wanted to do was hurt Cory.  Swinging my legs around, I lined my body up next to his, propping myself up on one elbow to look down at him.  I brought my other hand to his chest, then ran it up over his neck to cup his cheek.

   “This is normal, losing-my-virginity jitters.  I’ll try harder not to get too swept up in the moment.  I’m not trying to lead you on or make you angry.  I just, quite honestly, don’t feel ready.  I need you to respect that.”  My eyes darted back and forth between his, watching as he took in my words.

   He closed the small distance between us, bringing his mouth up to mine in a very sweet and chaste kiss.  He pulled away after a moment, and we stared at each other.  Until he spoke.

   “But, if you had to guess a timeframe, when do you think you
will
be ready?”

   My mouth opened, jaw dropping, and I scoffed at him.  He was smiling, but obviously a little serious.  I playfully slapped his arm.  “Cory, my God….”

   “I’m just kidding.  Sort of.”

   I looked down at my boyfriend, my best friend, and knew he was only being a normal seventeen-year-old boy.

   “Tell you what.  One year from today, your eighteenth birthday.  I’ll be ready.”

   “A whole year?” he practically shouted, a shocked expression on his face.

   “Shhhhh,” I whisper-yelled, eyes darting to my bedroom door, listening for any sounds of my parents stirring.  Hearing nothing from the hallway, I turned back to Cory.  “You’re ridiculous.  You can wait a year.  Until then, just assume it’s not going to happen.  Look at it this way,” I said with a smile.  “If I change my mind, it’ll be a surprise.”  He let out a loud groan, making me laugh.  I took his arm and moved it out so I could put my head in the crook of his neck, and snuggled in.  “You know you’re my favorite, right?”

   He pressed a kiss against my temple.  “Yeah.”

Chapter Three

Cory’s Eighteenth Birthday

McKenzie

   “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

   I turned my head to see Mrs. Wallace shutting the front door behind her.  She looked panicked and flustered.

   “My late meeting ran over, traffic was atrocious, and I had to stop for gas on the way home.”  I watched as she came around the couch Cory and I were sitting on, grabbed his face, and planted a big kiss on his cheek.  She pulled away, gave him sad mom eyes, and then stood up.  “I cannot believe my little baby is eighteen today.”  She let out a loud sigh, then turned toward the kitchen exclaiming, “Eighteen!”  I couldn’t see her anymore, but I knew she was throwing her hands up in exasperation.

    “Don’t worry about it, Mom.  Kenz and I were just watching a movie, waiting for everyone to get home.”

   I felt myself blush and I bit my bottom lip to stop from smiling.  Cory was only telling half the truth.  Up until twenty minutes ago, we’d been his room fooling around.  Cory had yet to let me forget I’d set his eighteenth birthday as
the date
, the one on which I’d give him my virginity.  And take his, as well.  It was a whole thing.  A thing we’d discussed in very thorough detail practically every day since I’d promised him a year ago.  One of the things I made clear was that if he wanted us to have sex for the first time, it wasn’t going to be in either one of our houses.  I wanted something romantic: a hotel room, roses, champagne if he could get his hands on any.  I simply was not going to have sex with him for the first time while we were rushed, trying to do the deed before his mom got home from work.

   Much to his dismay.

   “I promise I’ll start dinner right now.”  She sounded like a little hummingbird flitting around the kitchen.

   “Do you need any help?” I called out, hoping she wasn’t making anything too difficult that I could possibly ruin.  Culinary wizard I was not.

   “Oh, Kenzie, sweetie, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I have to get my head on straight first.”

   “All right, let me know.”  I always tried to be helpful when I was at Cory’s house.  I knew his parents were almost obligated to like me, since I was the daughter of their best friends and all, but I still wanted them to
actually
like me.  It was kind of a complex of mine.  I never wanted anyone to be disappointed in me.  Cory moved to drape his arm over my shoulders, giving me a squeeze and a half smile; he knew why I always offered, and I think he liked when I helped his mom with tasks around their house.  He said it made him feel like I was part of his family.  That was important to me as well—I loved the Wallaces.  All of them.  Even if it was in different ways.  Thinking of all the Wallaces made me question, “Is Hayes coming for dinner?”

   “Nah, he said he’s taking some sort of seminar over his winter break to get a couple extra credits or something, so he doesn’t have the time to drive down for one night to have dinner with us on my birthday.” 

   I could hear the vinegar in his voice.  He was upset his brother wasn’t coming to dinner and I could totally understand that.  I, on the other hand, was relieved.  Hayes had been so caught up in his schoolwork, I hadn’t seen him since the night of Cory’s sixteenth birthday.

   “I’m sorry, Cory,” I said softly.  And I was.  Selfishly, though, I wasn’t sorry I wouldn’t see him that night, just sorry Cory was upset about it.  I knew I’d have to see him eventually—I couldn’t go the rest of my life without Hayes coming around, but as far as I was concerned, the longer the better.  Just then the front door opened again as Mr. Wallace entered the house.