This Is Falling (27 page)

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Authors: Ginger Scott

Tags: #Coming of Age, #Young Adult, #athlete, #first love, #Sports, #Romance, #young love, #college, #baseball, #New Adult

BOOK: This Is Falling
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I’d like to be the first one to speak, but I
don’t know what the hell to say. There are so many things I need to
tell her, and so many massive fuck-ups over the last twenty-four
hours that I need to make amends for—I don’t know which one takes
priority. So I sit there, patiently waiting for her to give me a
sign, to tell me what she needs to hear first, what she needs to
hear most.

“You called me your
friend
,” she says
finally, and my heart squeezes tightly. She still won’t look at me,
her eyes following the two men on the field who are pulling up
bases and re-chalking lines. I need her to see me. I still don’t
know what I’m going to say, but I know the words will come as soon
as I can get her eyes on mine, so I get up and hop on top of the
dugout so I can walk over to where her feet are resting. I sit so
my legs are straddling her feet, and then I wrap my hands around
her shoes, mostly to keep her from kicking me.

“I think we both know that you and I were
never
friends
, Rowe.” She shifts her eyes to mine quickly,
holding my attention with this silent stare for even longer
minutes.

“What
are
we then, Nate? What is
this…
this, whatever we’re doing
? What are
we
to you?”
All I want to do is move her goddamned legs out of my way so I can
get to her mouth and kiss her, but she’ll run if I rush this.

“I can’t tell you what
we
are Rowe. I
can’t tell you that, because that entirely depends on you. But I
can tell you what
you
are to me. And it’s not the word
friend.
It’s so far beyond the word friend that I’m scared
shitless right now to say it out loud, because I’m afraid you don’t
want to hear it.
You
are the first thing I think about in
the morning and the last thing I think about at night. You are the
face in all of my dreams and the smile I see when I close my eyes.
Your voice when you sing in the shower late at night, when you
think you’re alone, is like music to my ears—and I know, that’s
totally weird that I listen to you, but don’t interrupt my flow, we
can get back to that later,” I say, holding a hand up to stop
her.

“You’ve got me all twisted in here,” I say,
running my palm over my chest. “I don’t know what to do, how to
act, and what to say. Clearly, I don’t have a fucking clue what to
say! It all comes out like garbage, because there aren’t any words
that are good enough. And I worry—God, Rowe, I worry all the time
that something I do or say is going to break you. And I can’t have
that, because you’ve come so far, and you’ve come this far with me.
And it’s such a gift, the way you’ve trusted me, given this part of
yourself to me. And I know, I was kind of…well, shit, Rowe…I was
crazy when that Tucker dude was over here, because I see how he
looks at you. Hell, it’s the same way I look at you. It’s the way
you deserve to be looked at—admired and adored. But I’ll be damned
if I’m going to give up everything just because I’m afraid. Because
I know the second I walk away, a hundred Tuckers, who all probably
deserve you more than I do, will line up to take my place, and I
will hate every last one of them. And I’ll hate myself for giving
up.”

“What are you saying, Nate?” Her eyes haven’t
moved from mine the entire time. I don’t even think she’s blinked.
But I can see her heart on her sleeve, her eyes just waiting to let
the tears fall. She’s so afraid I’m going to break her right here,
right now.

“I love you, Rowe. That’s it. I love you. I
love you. I love you!” I stand to my feet and shout those words,
getting the attention of the grounds crew, who all whistle and mock
me—as they should. I jump down and swing her feet sideways so I can
kneel in front of her, my face pressed flat against her lap while I
speak. “God, Rowe—that feels so good to say. I love you, and I
meant it the first time I said it. I never should have taken it
back, and I should have said it sooner.”

When I look up into her eyes, the tears are
threatening to fall even more, and she’s breathing in deeply
through her nose, just trying to stay strong. If she runs from me
now, it will kill me. It will absolutely slay me. But it would
still be worth it. Just getting the chance to tell this girl I love
her once would be worth all the pain in the world.

Rowe leans forward until her head is pressed
against mine, and only then do the tears fall from her eyes,
landing on her legs in front of me. I reach up and rub my thumbs
gently under each eye, and she leans into my palm, her eyes slowly
opening to look at me, her heart pounding so hard I can feel it in
every part of her body.

“You didn’t dip your shoulder,” she says, and
my lungs fill completely with relief and hope—and so much goddamned
love for this girl that I can hardly stand it. I bite my tongue,
but I can’t help the enormous smile pushing up the corners of my
mouth.

“No. I didn’t,” I say through small, breathy
laughter, reaching down to grab her hand in mine and kissing it.
“Anything else you see wrong with my swing…coach?”

“No,” she says with a small quiver, letting
one last tiny tear fall through her smile. “Well, maybe the follow
through. Oh, and your feet are a mess. And your head moves a
little…a lot. But, other than that…”

“God, I love you,” I say, pulling her face
close to mine and pressing my lips to hers so hard, she can barely
squeeze out any more words. But she does.

“I love you, too, Fifty-seven.”

Chapter
23

 

Rowe

 

This is living.

It was like I was born the moment I told Nate
how I felt. Coming here, to McConnell, was a breakthrough for me.
But loving Nate—letting myself be human and feel something
again…that was breaking free.

My parents will be here in the morning, and
my belly is full of nerves over it, but they’re happy nerves. I
don’t know how I’m going to introduce Nate, but I know my mom and
her intuition, so I don’t think I will have to say much. I just
hope they love him as much as they always loved Josh.

Josh was a part of our family, almost from
the very beginning. He spent time with my father without me. Sure,
usually talking baseball. But there was a love there, a connection.
I desperately want them to feel that with Nate.

“There, smell better?” Nate says, coming in
his room after showering. His hair is wet and twisted in all
directions. I love the way the ends are golden from the sun.

“It’ll do,” I tease, causing him to toss his
wet towel from his hand at me.

“I’m pretty sure you’re staying here again
tonight. I think that’s the real reason Ty wanted us to make up,”
Nate says, slipping one of his McConnell baseball shirts over his
head. I’m a little disappointed that he does, because if anything
is going to happen tonight, Nate is going to need to be the
aggressor. I’m too…I’m just too
new
at
all
this.

“Yes, I bet he’s glad to end the
fussy
fuss
,” I laugh.

“Oh god, I swear, him and
fussy fuss
!
He used to make fun of me when we were kids with that damned
phrase. He’d punch me, steal my ice cream, and then tell Mom I was
making a fussy fuss.”

“That’s mean.”

“Right? I’m such a victim,” Nate says. He
sits next to me and folds his hands together and leans forward to
rest them against his knees. His smile is shy and uncomfortable,
and it’s sweet. We both keep stealing glances, then looking away as
soon as we’re caught. It’s funny how putting your feelings out in
the open can add this whole new layer to your world. We both seem
to be sort of stuck, not knowing what to do with one another or how
to act. And I wish like hell he’d just kiss me and keep going.

“You wanna get him back?” I say, just trying
to erase the awkwardness in the air.

“Huh?”

“Ty. You wanna get him back? You know, for
the years of abuse?” I raise my eyebrows, and Nate stands up with a
big smile.

“Uh, yeah I do. What’d you have in mind,
Prankmaster?”

“Oh, so you acknowledge that I am in fact the
master now, do you?” I say, standing and poking at his chest. He
pulls me in for a quick kiss.

“You had me at pink,” he winks, and I roll my
eyes.

“Okay, Jerry Maguire.”

I spend a few minutes looking around Nate and
Ty’s room, pulling open a few drawers and looking for just the
right point of attack.

“He has a Playboy in here. We could pull some
pages out and glue them into his textbook so they show up in
class,” I suggest.

“No, Ty would actually like that. In fact, I
think he’s done that before,” Nate says, joining me to flip through
drawers and look under Ty’s bed.

I’m about to give up, when I get to the
bottom drawer and I move a few balls of socks to the side. “Uh,
Nate? What…is
this?
” I ask holding up the small, brown teddy
bear with two mismatched button eyes.

“That’s Cookie!” he says, taking it from me
and squeezing it once. “Unbelievable! I can’t believe he still has
this thing…and he brought it, to grad school!”

“Nate…we have our target,” I smirk, taking
the bear back from his hands and tucking it in the bottom of my
purse. “This bear is being held hostage, and Ty is about to be our
bitch for the next few days.”

“I LOVE it!” he says, laughing and picking me
up in his arms and swinging me around. “You…are a genius! An evil
genius—an evil, sexy genius!”

He kisses me with a little more force, still
holding my legs off of the ground, and the more he kisses me, the
more I can tell his mood has changed. I don’t even hesitate with he
finally sets my feet on the ground and begins walking me backward
toward his bed, all the while his lips on mine. I pull my shirt
over my head, and he follows with his. It was only on him for
minutes, and I’m so glad it’s off again.

Things get
real
when he reaches for
the button on his jeans, unsnapping and kicking them from his legs.
And all of the absoluteness—the sureness and confidence I had felt
moments before—starts to wane. Nate is not Josh. And I’m glad he’s
not, because Nate is who I love
now.
But he’s not some
sixteen-year-old inexperienced boy. It’s clear in the way he looks,
in the way he moves and in the way he’s touching me now.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he
says, sensing my nerves. How could he not, I’m pretty sure my
entire body is shaking. But just the thought of stopping—of not
getting to have him completely—makes my heart hurt, so I shake my
head quickly before he can change his mind.

“No, I want to. I’m just…a little out of
practice.” I feel stupid saying it, but I want Nate to know what
he’s getting.

“We’re here…together. You say stop if we need
to stop. And
I
will be
fine
with that. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say, nodding quickly and closing my
eyes. I take a deep breath and lose myself in the feeling of Nate’s
kiss on my head. When I open my lids again, my view is of his lower
body. He’s wearing a pair of black boxer shorts, and nothing else,
and all I want to do is run my hands over every inch, every muscle
along his back, stomach, sides, and...

Nate pulls on the front snap of my bra,
pulling my chin up with his fingers to look me in the eyes, making
sure I am okay with his every move. “Yes,” I whisper, my eyes
falling hooded as my body tingles under his touch. He pulls the
straps from my shoulders slowly, letting his fingers trail down the
length of my arm. I’ve been this way in front of Nate before, when
I showed him my scars. But this time is
different.
He
doesn’t see my scars at all, he only sees me. And he wants me.

I crawl onto my back, lying on his bed while
he hovers above me, brushing my hair from my face and splaying it
out on his pillow. “Can I just kiss you…for a while?” he asks,
pressing his lips once to my forehead, and then my lips, and then
my chin. I nod
yes
slowly and feel his breath against my
neck, each tantalizing pause before he kisses me somewhere new. His
tongue finds my jaw next, and when he runs it down the length of my
neck to my collarbone, I can’t help but squirm. He looks at me
again to make sure I’m okay, but I’m squirming because I want him
to go farther, to touch me more.

“I’m okay. I promise,” I say, and he smiles
softly, looking down the length of my body to my breasts.

I can’t help but watch in anticipation as he
kisses each one slowly, circling around the peaks, but never fully
taking them in. The want and need overwhelms me, and I let out a
moan, arching my back, urging him to be more forceful.

“What do you want, Rowe?” he teases, his lips
blowing cold air across my nipples, bringing them to a painful
point.

“I want you to kiss me…there,” I say, barely
able to get the words out through my panting.

“Where?” he teases again, making my entire
body blush. I pull his pillow from under my head and put it over my
face; I’m so embarrassed. “Here?” he asks, grazing the tip of his
tongue lightly over one nipple.

“Oh god! Yes, there,” I say, biting down on
his pillowcase to keep myself from saying more.

Nate continues to circle and tease each peak
for minutes, until my back is actually sore from arching into him
and begging him to take them completely. When he finally pulls my
nipple into his mouth, biting lightly at first with his teeth and
then sucking it painfully hard, I groan.

“You cannot make that noise if you want this
to go on any longer,” he says, pulling the pillow from my face and
smoothing my hair out once again.

“Sorry,” I whisper, wishing I could hide the
redness creeping up on my face.

“Never be sorry. That sound, your sound, is
so goddamned hot. It’s just going to take me some time before I can
handle it without…” he pauses and smirks, and I smile,
bashfully.

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