Dani’s [POV]
We walk in silence past the warehouses until we reach Damon’s bike. As he puts his jacket around me and I slip into the smooth leather carrying his scent, I remember how his lips felt on mine and shudder. “Where are we going now?”
“Depends.” He doesn’t meet my eyes.
“On what?”
“On whether, after everything you’ve seen tonight, you want to stay as far away from me as possible or go on a date.”
Suddenly, I’m dizzy. I inhale deeply, his scent overwhelming me. It doesn’t help the dizziness. “Why did you say you were sorry after you kissed me?”
His lips inch upward in a smile. “Because bringing you here was a lousy idea. I didn’t anticipate you’d dress up like this, but I knew if those idiots thought you were mine, they’d leave you alone.”
Mine.
Shivers run through me at the word. Coming from his lips, it sounds just right.
“You didn’t answer, Dani. About the date.” He looks wearily at me as if there might be a real chance I would say no.
“Why wouldn’t I want one? Because of this?” I point around t
o the warehouses. “It’s not what I expected, I admit. But you have your reasons. You can explain them to me if you want to,” I grin, “on our date.”
“I can think of better things to do on our first date.”
“Okay,” I say, almost out of breath.
“Where do you want to go?”
“The beach. I know it’s dark, but-”
“The beach it is. Do you have one in mind?”
“Yes.”
I give him directions, and we settle on the bike again. This time, I cling to him even tighter. Part of me fears that none of this is real. I’d like to pinch myself to see if I wake up, but once the death machine starts speeding, that’s impossible. The light evening breeze turns into a cold wind during our ride, but funnily, I don’t feel as cold as I did the first time. Warmth bubbles up inside me, fueled by the memory of his lips, and that one word: Mine.
***
When we arrive at our destination, we leave the bike in a small parking lot and then proceed to the beach. There are a few light stations along the length of the sidewalk adjacent to the beach, giving a faint glow. I passed this beach a few times when James drove me from home to his apartment, and I always wanted to come here. Taking off my shoes, I relish the familiar feel of sand beneath my toes and discover I’m shivering. When Damon takes my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine, he notices, too.
“You’re cold.”
“Not at all,” I lie. I don’t want to leave. We make our way to the shore, and the light from the streetlamps barely reaches us as we sit on the sand.
“Do I make you nervous?”
I’m grateful for the darkness. “Yes,” I admit in a small voice.
He takes me in his arms from behind, so I sit with my back to him, facing the sea.
“What kind of nervous?” he whispers playfully in my ear. “The good kind, or the bad kind?”
“The good kind.” I fidget in my spot, sweat dotting my palms. What if he doesn’t like this place? I bet he had something more fun in mind when he thought of a date. I should have let him choose the spot. “Do you like it here? We can go somewhere more fun if you want, where there are people-”
“This is perfect,” he interrupts. “If there were more people around, I’d have to share you, or at least your attention. I’m greedy. I want you all to myself.”
“Oh.”
I freeze when I feel his lips tugging at my earlobe, then trailing along my cheek.
“Dani?”
“Yes.”
“Are you still sure about this? I can take you home if you want. We can pretend this night never happened. It won’t change anything, I swear.”
“Why do you keep asking that?”
“Because I keep thinking you’ll finally come to your senses and realize you should be going on a date with someone more like yourself. Someone who’s grown up in a mansion plays lacrosse in their free time and has an Ivy League spot waiting for them, and later a brilliant career. He should’ve had the privilege of having your first kiss. I hate him already.”
“I already gave my first kiss to you.” I pull his arms tighter around me. I don’t have an Ivy League spot waiting for me, but Oxford. This doesn’t seem the right time to bring that up. In fact, at this very moment, the idea of attending college across the ocean doesn’t fill me with the usual elation.
“Tell me about the fighting. Why are you doing it? How did it start?”
“After Mom got sick, she couldn’t work anymore. Her benefits were a joke. I had to get a job. She wouldn’t let me drop out of school, so I could only work a few hours after school and on weekends. I tried different jobs, but they paid almost nothing. Then someone approached me about fighting. When I realized I could make more money working less, I didn’t look back. I never told her.”
“What did she say about your bruises?”
“She thought I was getting into fights at school.” His voice trembles slightly. “And toward the end, she was too far gone to notice.”
“I’m sorry.” I wedge myself closer into his arms, and he rests his head in the crook of my neck. “You don’t have to keep doing it now, though.”
“Yes, I do,” he says forcefully. “I don’t need that prick’s money.”
I let the subject drop, and we remained in silence for long moments.
“Damon, is this how first dates are supposed to be?” I ask, worried he wants something more exciting.
“Not at all. First dates are showtime, where people pretend to be something they aren’t to impress someone who is acting just as fake. This-… you and me-… it’s different.” He shifts until he’s next to me, and then kisses me gently until I melt in his arms and moan against his lips.
“I didn’t know kissing could be like this.”
After a pause, he whispers back, “Neither did I.”
“You’ve kissed a lot of girls, haven’t you?”
“None like you.” I shiver in his arms as a cold breeze reaches me. “Are you cold? Don’t lie.”
“No,” I lie, but then I sneeze.
“Okay, that’s it, I’m taking you home.”
“This tops all the firsts we’ve had until now. Breaking in my house, in my room.” I decided it was too risky to use the entrance, in case my parents were still downstairs. My bedroom is on the second floor, but climbing there isn’t too cumbersome. There is a massive oak tree right in front of my room with a tree house in it. We have no business with the tree house, but the ladder leading to it comes in handy. Luckily, I left the window open. Reaching inside, I turn on the lamp on my desk in front of the window with shaky hands. I’ve never had a boy in my room.
As we both climb inside and down my desk, Damon asks, “A lot of firsts with me, huh?”
“I hope to have a lot more.” I swallow hard, glancing at him in the dimly lit room. We’re both still leaning on the desk. “You made all the firsts extraordinary.”
“That’s what you deserve.”
“Thank you for climbing here with me. You didn’t have to.”
“I wasn’t sure you could climb that ladder on your own. You don’t seem very sporty.”
“Hey, I do yoga.”
“That’s… not a sport.”
“Stay here tonight.” I take a deep breath. “I mean, um… just to sleep.”
“I know what you meant,” he says reassuringly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. What if your parents walk in?”
“My parents never come to my room. Their rooms are each in opposite wings of the house. Mine is right in the middle.”
Damon frowns. “They sleep in different rooms?”
“They don’t get along.” I sneeze.
“Aha, you’re getting a cold. I knew it.”
“I’ll make myself some tea,” I say, pointing to the table underneath the bookshelves. I have a water boiler and a broad selection of tea.
“Why do you have all this in your room?”
“I do all my homework and reading here, and I drink lots of tea. The kitchen is too far, and I feel bad asking our cook to bring me tea.”
“Do you have some rubbing alcohol and cotton pads?” Damon asks, pointing to his lip.
“Sure.” I bring a bottle and some pads quickly. “Do you also need ice? So you don’t get so many bruises?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” He pours alcohol on a pad and then brings it to his lip.
I break out into sneeze after sneeze. To my embarrassment, it goes on for about a minute.
“Go take a hot shower,” Damon says. “It’ll help with the cold.”
“Will you be here when I return?”
He smiles my favorite smile, heartfelt and relaxed. His dimples are showing. “You can bet on that.”
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be quick.”
My bathroom is adjacent to my room. I’m a nervous wreck the entire time I shower. The muscles in my thighs twitch and an empty feeling settles in my stomach. By the time I finish the shower, the twitch has turned into downright trembling. I can barely believe Damon is in my room. And I can’t believe that every single pajama set I own consists of shorts and a simple cotton t-shirt. I don’t have anything of silk or lace or any sexy fabric.
When I get to my room, Damon is sitting on my side of the bed, holding a cup. His eyes find mine, and I bite my lip as his gaze dips down my body. I don’t think he minds my pajamas. I try to remember that he saw me naked, and this is nothing in comparison.
“Get in the bed, come on,” he says eventually, and I detect a delicious tingle of tension in his voice. He pats the sheets twice, and I climb in silently. “I made you tea.”