Page 72 of The Very First Night

“I think it’s a good idea. For you to write him, I mean. It’s not even to say that it means you have to have a relationship with him, but I think it’ll be good for you, at the very least to get some answers so you can have closure about your dad.”

I lean against the headboard, fidgeting with a loose thread sticking out of the flat sheet. My inner cheek stings from biting it so hard, trying to hold back. But despite our conversation about my family issues, one thought keeps nagging at me: how can he sit here and talk to me like this without addressing what happened last night? The memory of my brazen actions and his response plays on a loop in my mind. How can he just ignore it?

Maybe because he wishes it never happened.

“Kat…” Tanner’s voice grows stern, gravelly, and I perk up at the sound.

“Hm?”

“I can hear you spiraling from here. What’s up?”

What’s up? What’s up?! I don’t know, Tanner, what’s up with you?! I internally scream, but I know that saying what I’m really thinking right now will just result in me looking like an obsessive crazy person, so I just say, “Nothing.”

“Talk to me.” As I look up and meet his eyes, his expression is every bit one of concern. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Why haven’t you brought up last night?” I ask in a rush.

Whatever he is expecting to come out of my mouth, it isn’t that. Oh God, he’s trying to figure out how to let me down easy. He totally regrets suggesting it. He hasn’t said anything because he’s been hoping to walk it back and didn’t know how to do it without ruining our friendship, and now I’m the one doing it. How could I be so stupid?

Tanner’s hand lands on my bare thigh and gently squeezes. His words come out firm but compassionate as he says, “Kat, look at me.”

I do, despite every instinct in my body telling me not to. As I lock eyes with him, a fluttering sensation erupts in my stomach, sending butterflies soaring in every direction. His earnest gaze holds me captive and my heart races erratically in response.

He continues, “I haven’t brought it up because I wanted to give you an out if you wanted it. You were drinking last night, and you didn’t seem too keen on the idea prior to that. I never want you to think I’m pushing you toward something you don’t want simply because I want it.”

A lump lodges in my throat. The words I want to say are all stuck, caged in without anywhere to go. “You…want it—you want…me?” I try not to sound completely shocked by the revelation, but he chuckles anyway.

“Yes, Kat. And here I thought I was being abundantly obvious, so here it goes.” He clears his throat, shifting to face me head-on. “I want you, Kat, more than I think I’ve ever wanted anyone.” He squeezes my thigh again, determination in his eyes. My heart races as his words sink in, sending shivers down my spine. “So, yeah, if you want that too, sober, then that’s what I want. I ask you this once, and I promise that if you have changed your mind it will never get brought up again: Have you changed your mind?”

“I haven’t,” I mumble before clearing my throat to speak more clearly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I stand by what I said last night.”

His tortured, borderline pained expression morphs into a grin—an entirely mind-boggling grin that has me ready to do whatever he asks. How did I never notice it before? He squeezes my leg, but this time his hand creeps toward my inner thigh, my skin pebbling at the sensation. “Good. So…when would you like to explore that?”

I can barely think as his pointer finger draws circles against my flesh, the slight chill in the air doing nothing to cool the heat that blooms all over my body at the simple touch. “Now, preferably.”

A chuckle breaks past his lips at my enthusiasm, but he doesn’t pull away. “Okay.”

Tanner climbs off the bed, briefly leaving me with a cold sense of foreboding until he pushes my legs apart and climbs between them.

I anticipate his kiss, mentally begging for it as if it’s the last shred of salvation at my disposal; as if it’s the only source of oxygen in the room.

However, rather than kissing me, he forces me to meet his gaze. “Before any of this happens, I need to make one thing clear. The most important thing about this arrangement is that you know that you never have to question what I’m thinking. I promise I will always tell you how I’m feeling. If the way I feel about this arrangement changes, I will tell you. I realize that you’ve been in situations that left you feeling like information is always being withheld, but that isn’t the case here. So, Kat?”

“Hm?”

“Breathe.” He exhales as if he needs to show me what that looks like and I follow suit, letting out a deep breath that I didn’t realize I was holding.

We continue for a few short moments, taking deep breaths in unison, his eyes never leaving mine. It’s not until my heart rate normalizes and I don’t feel like I very well might faint that he stops his exaggerated breathing.

Then, without restraint or reservation, his lips are on mine.

THIRTY-FOUR

TANNER

There are few things I want more than anything in this world: my parents to live long and healthy lives, my brothers to get into good schools and grow out of being the little shits they are, to find a good job after graduation, and to know what it feels like to make Katarina Marritt orgasm, ideally more than once.

Since the day I met her in the student center, it’s all I can think about. Well, maybe not so specifically. But I so badly want to be able to touch her freely, to feel her soft skin against my palm without restraint, to know the way her tongue tastes as it grazes my own.

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