Stolen Wishes (6 page)

“I don’t care what your mom’s done. I only
care about you.”

“When I say I’m not ready, I don’t just mean
tonight. I don’t know if I’ll be ready next month or next year.
It’s not that I don’t want to, but I’m scared I’ll become her.”

His breath leaves him in a rush. “Never.
You’ll never be her.” He pulls me close, and I move to straddle his
lap.

“You seem so perfect. I don’t know what
being with me is going to do to your life.”

“My life is hardly perfect,” he scoffs. He
holds me close while he lowers himself back into the grass. He’s
silent for a bit, my head on his chest, his hands toying with my
hair. “I was young when my parents died. I have memories of them,
but nothing big, you know? My memories are more like snapshots. My
dad handing me a big present in Garfield birthday wrap. Mom
sweeping me off the ground and kissing my bloody knee. Sitting in
the back of the car and watching the two of them hold hands. I wish
I had more but it’s just not there.”

I wrap my arms around him and squeeze
because that’s all I can do. There’s nothing to say to salve the
hurt in his voice. Nothing to do but listen.

“I was in kindergarten when they died in the
accident, and I don’t remember much about that time. I was staying
over at Grandma’s that night, and Mom and Dad were having ‘couple
time.’ Grandma said it with disapproval in her eyes, so I thought
‘couple time’ meant something bad until I was older and heard other
people use it.” He pulls in a breath not much different than the
kind I take when I wake up from a nightmare. “They never came
home.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. It physically hurts
me to imagine little-boy Will waiting for his parents to get home,
wishing he’d see them again and learning he wouldn’t.

“Grandma didn’t like to talk about it. She
took me to the funeral, dressed me in a suit and tie, and told me,
‘We get one day to cry. After today, we move on. You become the
best man you can and you do it for them.’”

“That’s terrible. Grief shouldn’t have a
timeline. And you were just a kid.”

“She loves me. I don’t want you to think any
differently. But her loving me meant that she didn’t want me
hurting, and if she didn’t have to see me hurting, she could tell
herself I wasn’t.”

“What was it like? Growing up without your
parents?”

His hands, already in my hair, tighten
before he speaks. “I had everything I needed, so I don’t want to
make it out worse than it was.”

“You can tell me.”

“It sucked.” He forces a laugh. “I love my
grandmother, but she wasn’t a mother to me. She didn’t know how to
be, not when she was so filled with grief over losing her own son.
She wanted so much for the son she’d lost, and I was expected to
fill that void. The grades, the sports, the perfect behavior. I
need to get out of here for college. She wants me to go to
Sinclair, but I know what that means. She’ll want me to live at
home. She’ll want to control how I spend my days.”

“You could go anywhere, do anything.”

He hooks a leg behind mine and rolls us
until he’s on his elbows hovering over me and his lips are a breath
from mine.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“That I can’t wait to tell everyone you’re
my girl.”

Then he kisses me for a long time, slow and
sweet. We look at the stars after, side by side, his fingers
tangled in my hair. Then we see it. A shooting star, skating across
the sky as if it were put there for us.

I can’t help but wonder if my time with
William will be like that. A precious but temporary gift.

William

Eleven Months Later

“Open it!” Cally says, her eyes bright.
She’s grinning at me, and we both know very well what a fat
envelope from a college means.

“I don’t want to.” I chuck it to the floor
and nudge her backward until the bed hits the back of her thighs.
She’s so damn beautiful when she smiles. Just the idea of not
seeing that smile every day makes me want to scrap all my plans for
college. Ten months ago, the idea of getting a fat envelope from
Notre Dame would have sent me over the moon. When it came today, my
first thought was of the long drive between here and there.
“There’s one more application I’m waiting on.” I slide my hands
into her hair.

She frowns. “From where? I thought you’d
heard from everyone already.”

“Sinclair.”

She presses her hands against my chest and
pushes me back. “No. William. No. Absolutely not.”

I hang my head. This is why I hadn’t told
her. I knew how she’d feel about me sticking around for her. “I
don’t want to leave you.”

“But you need to,” she protests. “You need
to get away from your grandmother and have a chance to live your
life without her constant meddling. You told me that’s what you
wanted, and I think it’s what you need.”

I grab her hand and bring it to my lips.
“That was before you.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “I can’t let you
do this. I love you too much.”

“I love you too,” I whisper, then I dip my
head to kiss her.

“Don’t change the subject,” she whispers
against my lips.

“I wouldn’t dare.” Our mouths meet again,
and I sweep my tongue across her lips until she opens for me and
makes that little kitten mewl at the back of her throat. I nudge
her again, and she lowers to the bed, her dark hair fanned against
my blue sheets. “You’re so beautiful.”

She’s wearing cut-off jean shorts that show
her long legs, and one of my old practice jerseys. Her back arches
as she reaches for me, and the jersey slides higher, revealing a
narrow strip of creamy skin right above the waistband of her jeans.
The part of me that loves her and understands her hang-ups resists,
but there’s a part of me that’s ready to push, a part that wants
her too much not to ask for more.

I know my friends think we have sex. Hell,
other than Cally and me, I don’t know any couples who aren’t
sexually active. But we have more than they do. We have a
connection that I’ve craved since my parents died.

When Cally’s around, I never feel alone.

***

Cally

Over the clothes and above the waist. That
was my line in the sand at the beginning of our relationship.
Lately, it’s a line I want to kick myself for drawing.

When we first started dating, I kept waiting
for the other shoe to drop. It’s not that I’m a pessimist or
something. It’s just that William is so much more than I ever would
have imagined for myself. He’s not just the sexy football player
everyone loves. He’s smart and kind and thoughtful. And when I told
him I wouldn’t have sex with him, he took me at my word and has
never pushed the physical side of our relationship. We make out,
and when things start to get too heated, when I’m ready for him to
ask for more, he slows us down and pulls me back.

Over the clothes and above the waist. My
rules, followed to a T.

Stupid rules.

I complained to Lizzy and Hanna about my
predicament, and Lizzy laughed at me. “So, strip. You show him some
bare skin, and I’m sure he’ll get the idea.”

I was going to wait for our one-year dating
anniversary. But lying here in his bed, no one else in the house,
my body has other ideas. The way he’s looking at me right now gives
me the courage I need. I sit up, and before I can talk myself out
of it, I pull my shirt off over my head.

His breath draws in with a hiss and his gaze
sweeps across bare stomach, my breasts swelling above the cups of
my bra. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” he says,
but his eyes give him away. He needs this as much as I do. “Cally,
I—”

I unclasp my bra, and he stops talking, his
chest rising and falling as his eyes rake over me again and
again.

“Jesus. You’re beautiful.” He wraps his hand
around my side and pulls me close, lowering his mouth to mine.

His fingers are gentle. He sweeps them over
my bare skin, cups a breast in his palm. I gasp at the brush of his
callused hand. He’s touched me here before, and I always liked it,
but this is different. There’s no comparison, and this simple
contact makes me want more. Skin to skin, everywhere.

“So damn beautiful.” He drops his mouth to
my neck. Pleasure jackknifes through me when he rolls my nipple
between his fingers and scrapes his teeth over my collarbone. “Let
me kiss these. Let me make you feel good.”

I’m almost tense, coiled tight and needy,
waiting for his mouth on my breasts. I want to feel his tongue
against the sensitive flesh of my nipple. He kisses the sensitive
crook of my neck and teases me with his thumbs. What will it feel
like to have his mouth there? What if I don’t like it?

“Relax, baby.” He lowers me to the bed and
runs his hand across my abdomen. His fingers dip into the hollow of
my navel then up between my breasts. He follows with his mouth, hot
and wet against my stomach, his tongue skimming under the band of
my jeans and sending wild flutters through my belly before he
kisses his way back up.

By the time he brings his mouth to my
breast, pleasure twists inside me, greedy and impatient and more
intense than anything I’ve ever felt before.

His tongue circles my nipples, one then the
other. He closes his mouth over the taut peak and sucks, his other
hand pinching the opposite breast.

The spiral of desire pulses harder, more
insistent, and I squeeze my thighs together tight as he teases and
sucks. I cling to that sensation—the tight, twisting ache. I tug at
his hair because I need more, and I’m so close to something but I’m
not sure what it is. Suddenly, he sucks again, and that aches
twists impossibly tight before shattering and rocking through me in
a violent spasm of pleasure.

I cry out, and he sucks harder until the
spasm recoils and releases again, and I’m arching into his touch,
holding on to his hair and the back of his neck.

Finally, my body lightens and releases, and
I drop my hands to my sides. When I open my eyes, William is
looking down at me, his blue eyes hot, his face searching mine.

When the realization of what I just did
clicks into place in my sluggish brain, my cheeks burn with
embarrassment. I held his mouth to me like I was afraid he was
going to stop. I—
Oh my God
. Who has an orgasm from a guy
touching her above the waist? “I don’t know why that happened. I’m
sorry.”

He smiles but it looks a little pained. “Are
you seriously apologizing for the sexiest thing I’ve ever
experienced in my life?”

“I… You thought that was sexy?”

His lips quirk. “Baby, I made you come just
by kissing your breasts. Not only was it sexy, I feel like Superman
right now.”

“Superman?”

“Maybe Houdini is a more appropriate
comparison, but yeah.” There’s so much intensity in his eyes that I
can practically feel the weight of his gaze as he runs it over me
again. “You’ve pretty much made my life.”

I bite my lip. “It’s a little embarrassing
from where I’m sitting.”

He draws me up against him and nuzzles
against my neck. “God, there’s absolutely nothing for you to be
embarrassed about. The only thing embarrassing here is the way I’m
about to come in my jeans without you even laying a finger on
me.”

“Really?”

He groans. “You have no idea how much I want
you. It hurts like hell.”

That sobers me, and I pull away. “William,
I’m sorry I—”

“Please don’t apologize. It’s a good kind of
hurt.”

I guess I know what he means. I’ve been
feeling the good kind of hurt for months. I’m just not sure how
much longer I want to feel it. My gaze drops to his jeans before I
realize what I’m doing and tear my eyes away. I looked long enough
to see some very impressive tightness at his fly that wasn’t there
earlier.

He pulls off his shirt and snuggles next to
me, wrapping his arms under my breasts and pulling me close. “Let
me hold you like this,” he whispers in my ear.

I breathe in his scent and my eyes slowly
drift closed. The sun slants in through the window and warms my
skin, relaxes my muscles.

I’m nearly asleep when he says, “I love you,
Cally.”

I’m getting used to hearing those words. He
told me for the first time months ago, and I was in awe that
someone as amazing as William could love me. I never doubted his
words. They are like him—honest, pure, and easy. But when he first
said them, I was struck by the vulnerability in his eyes. I used to
think William had everything, but I was wrong. He didn’t have love.
Not as much as he deserves. And maybe his grandmother’s love for
him is unconditional, but he can’t see it when she puts so many
conditions on her approval. My parents might suck at being parents,
but I’ve never doubted their love. I would never have guessed that
William needed my love more desperately than I needed his.

“I love you too,” I reply softly now.

“If I leave for school, will visit me? Will
you wait for me?”

I twist, turning in his arms so I can see
him. “Notre Dame isn’t that far. A few hours on the bus, and I’ll
be there.”

Relief washes over his face and he slides
his hands into my hair and pulls me close for a kiss. When he
releases me, I settle into his chest again. “Thank you,” I say—to
him, to the universe or whatever desperate stargazing wish brought
us together.

Cally

He forgot.

I wrap my arms around myself and pace my
bedroom. I can’t believe he forgot.

My phone rings, and I practically jump
across my bed as I scramble to grab it.

I don’t bother to read the display.
“Hello.”

“Hey, chica!” Lizzy says from the other
end.

My shoulders sag in disappointment, and I
look at the clock. It’s after eight p.m. “Hey, Liz,” I mutter.