When the quickening began, he gripped my waist and tensed. I felt my mouth fall open but no sound was coming out. I couldn’t breath at that moment for fear that it would all go away. I closed my eyes and let go. It was strange; it wasn’t that I forgot that Matt was there—how could I?—but I had very little self-awareness and self-consciousness. It was like I forgot that I was there when the buildup began and the tingling waves of hot and cold shot through my body. Down below, the pulsing began, harder than it ever had before. Matt made a strangled sound from his chest.
The word “Yes” inched from my throat, almost painfully. It wasn’t triumphant, like you see in the movies. It was quiet. Euphoric.
One last thought ran through my head before I collapsed on top of Matt. I’ve got to get my hands on that book his mom gave to him.
Moments later, he stirred under me as I lay splayed over his body. He kissed the top of my head and took a deep breath.
“We have to go, huh?” I grumbled into the smattering of hair on his chest.
“Yeah, we better get going, although staying in bed with you all day and spending Christmas in New York doesn’t sound bad at all.”
“Won’t you miss Christmas with your family?”
His expression was inscrutable. “No.”
“No?”
“Seeing my mom, maybe. But I’m definitely not going to miss stuffy dinners with my obnoxious brother.”
“What happened that made you two so different?”
He rolled me over onto my back and pushed himself off the bed. “I just got lucky, I guess,” he said with an arrogant smile. “I’ve gotta take a shower.”
I stared at his glorious backside as he walked away. Even in the hazy early-morning light, I could see the fine, cut muscles of his back.
ON THE WAY to the airport, I fell asleep in the back of the cab with my head on Matt’s shoulder. “Wake up, baby. We’re here.” Matt looked at his watch. “Shit, we gotta hurry.”
He pulled his bag and my small rolling suitcase from the trunk. We sailed through the check-in line, and before I knew it, we were boarding the plane. I sat in the middle seat and Matt had the window. I was asleep on his shoulder again before we even took off.
About halfway through the flight, there was a little turbulence that woke me up. Matt was asleep with his headphones on. I made my way to the bathroom, and by the time I came back, Matt had ordered us both Bloody Marys. He looked up at me, eyes beaming, as I scooted in toward him.
“Gracie,” he said, handing me a plastic cup.
“Matthias,” I replied. There was a current of electricity in the air between us.
“I got you a double.”
“I’ve never had one before,” I said, buckling myself in. “But I’ll try anything once.”
I took a sip and was immediately surprised by how much I liked the spicy and salty tomato flavor. “You can’t even taste the alcohol.”
He laughed. “That’s the point.”
I turned my head to look Matt in the face. He had dark circles under his eyes and his brownish black hair was sticking out in every direction. Somehow he still looked gloriously sexy. He took a sip, looked over at me, and grinned all the way up to his eyes. “Good, huh?” His voice was low and just rough enough to send shivers down my spine to the space between my legs.
“Uh-huh,” I said, breathlessly. I thought about what Matt and I had done hours before and what that meant for us . . . what that made us.
As if he could read my mind, his expression changed and his smile faded. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I was okay—happy, even, and bubbling with anticipation—but I still felt a tiny bit of trepidation. Why? My first time had been perfect—almost too good to be true. After hearing so many horror stories from girls in high school about how awkward, painful, and messy their first times were, how could I not memorialize what we had done? Every single moment with him had been amazing. He hadn’t pushed me and he’d been totally patient and respectful. He’d been gentle but in control, and then afterward he’d been sweet and attentive. All the thoughts and memories started swirling around in my head . . . the way his hands touched me under the covers of his tiny dorm-room bed . . . his mouth everywhere . . .
Matt watched as I stared, blankly. His eyes dropped down to my open mouth. He knew what I was thinking about. He blinked. “I love that mouth.”
Leaning in, I touched my lips to his, seeking comfort. We surrendered to the charged energy between us, almost like we were feeding it, trying to satisfy it. We kissed slowly and softly, our tongues dancing around, until I heard the unmistakable sound of an intentional throat-clearing. I looked over my shoulder to see the woman in the aisle seat, watching us intently. She seemed like a jovial southern woman, with lots of make-up and big, white-blonde hair.
Were we being rude twisting tongues in the cramped seats of an airplane? Probably, but I didn’t care. I was almost willing to strip naked right there, if Matt asked me to. I smiled at the lady. With a sort of wise, “I get it” look, she smiled back and then rolled her eyes dismissively.
Matt looked worn out. He reached languidly for my hand and clutched it with his before resting his head back and closing his eyes. I reached for my drink from the tray table and sucked it down in three large gulps. It was delicious and the alcohol took effect almost immediately. I leaned against Matt’s shoulder again and fell asleep.
“I FORGOT TO ask, how are we getting to your mom’s?”