Page 22 of Years in the Making

Two hours later, we’re walking down a secluded trail talking quietly. Nellie is identifying bird song, smiling brightly when it’s a bird she likes a bit more than the others. If you’d asked me Monday morning if I gave a shit about birds, I’d have laughed and said absolutely not. A friend in high school had a budgie, and it used to freak me out swooping around his basement while we played video games. Now I’m hanging on every word about fucking birds. I’m even asking questions about them because Nellie’s knowledge of the feathered demons is sexy as hell. Also sexy as hell are all the tattoos she has on display. She’s dressed in athletic wear, a tight tank and leggings, and I’ve got a front-row seat to the art that sweeps across her upper body. Most are just black, but there are a few with splashes of color. The blue jay and cardinal both have muted accents of blue and red. I want totrace every single one with my finger—actually probably my tongue, but I’m desperately trying not to let my imagination go there.

I shouldn’t be so focused on Nellie when it’s a bit slick on the trail from the rain we had yesterday morning. The sun can’t breach the canopy above enough to have it dried up already, but I’m not ready when I hit a particularly damp spot and feel my foot slip forward. Within half a second I find myself stuck in a desperate attempt to stay upright. My arms start to windmill, and my feet fight to gain purchase on the mud. Gravity wins though, and I’m on my ass a minute later.

“Oh my god.” Nellie slides over to me, bending and holding her hand out. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my pride,” I grumble, taking her hand and slowly getting back to my feet. When I look up she’s red, desperately trying to hold in a laugh. “Oh go for it, let it out. I would.” I stare down at her. All she needed was permission, and she’s lost in a fit of wheezes and snorts. I’d fall a million more times if this was what the result was. Eventually, I’m laughing right along with her as I brush off my shorts.

When she gets control of herself, she looks mortified. “I’m so sorry for laughing.”

“Why? I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.”

“Oh, good to know.”

“I am an equal opportunity laugher,” I say seriously.

“How progressive of you,” she purrs rather demurely as she reaches out, grabs my arm, and begins rubbing her fingers over a spot just above my elbow. I don’t move, just let her do her thing while I stare helplessly. I wonder if she can feel how my skin buzzes beneath the touch of her fingertips or if she knows how fucking incredible she smells. Notes of coconut and something else overwhelm my senses, and I have to work hard at holdingmyself back from dropping my nose to the top of her head and breathing in.

When she looks up at me, her hands remain on my arm, and I don’t look away. I want it to be very clear that I would like to kiss her. I want her to just go for it when she’s ready, without any doubt that I want the very same thing.Five days, the little voice says,it’s only been five days, have some patience. I swallow, and a small smile curves her lips. It’s shy yet flirty, and very Nellie.

Her hands return to her sides, and she gestures up the trail with her head. “Come on, I want to get to the waterfall before noon.”

I don’t know how I have so much energy. I’m going on roughly three hours of sleep, but if she asked me to hike across the country right now, I’d tell her to lead the way. Even if my legs gave out from exhaustion, I’d fucking crawl after this woman. The feeling both thrills and terrifies me.

NINE

NELLIE

This would be the ultimate place for a first kiss. I am standing on a dry flat boulder at the base of the waterfall as soft mist cools my skin. I look back at the shore where Teddy is searching under rocks for salamanders. His degree is starting to kick in as he admires the nature around him. It’s such a nerdy endeavor, and I love it.

Five days, I think to myself. I’ve kissed guys within five hours of meeting them; five days isn’t too soon. But I don’t just want to kiss Teddy. I want to kiss him and never stop. There’s a piece of me that feels like he’sit, and I don’t want to rush into it or run from it. I want to explore this feeling a bit more. I’m not naive enough to think that we aren’t in the honeymoon phase of this relationship, be it platonic or romantic. We haven’t discovered those annoying habits people have. He could eat popcorn loudly during a movie or be rude to service people. Although he has given me no indication that he’d be rude to anyone.

When Teddy finally makes his way over, he stops on the rock beside mine, squinting up at the waterfall, and then he looks at me. No one has ever looked at me the way Teddy does,and it’s complicating everything. I can’t quite identify what it is between us because I’ve never felt it before, and even though I’ve never been in love, I can say with absolute certainty that this feeling isn’t love. I wonder if it’s the feeling of potential and anticipation, maybe a dash of hope in there. I told him outright that I want to kiss him and that I want him to kiss me but that I’m not ready. Then we talked all night long, and the first thing I thought when I woke up was how badly I wanted to talk all night long again. How desperately I want to see him under the sun and in the shadows of the trees as the sun moves across the sky. How the idea of waking up to his face sounds better than just about anything else because it means he’s there with me. None of what I’ve felt this week feels like not being ready.

The boulder I’m on is large, and Teddy steps onto it with me. Now I’m standing on a rock in the middle of shallow gentle rapids fighting an internal battle I know I’m about to lose. But I’ve never been one to go down without a fight, even if the fight is half-assed at best.

The first sign of me breaking comes when I link the fingers of my right hand with the fingers of his left. He doesn’t say a thing as we stand there, both watching the water cascade down the cliff in front of us. I don’t say a thing when he raises our hands and presses a soft kiss to the back of mine. I feel his lips all the way down to my toes, washing away every ounce of reservation I have.

Fuck it, I think when we make eye contact. Except I must have said it out loud because his eyes widen a half second before my lips connect with his.

The sensation of his lips on my hand is nothing compared to what I’m feeling now. He drops my hand, and both of his hands cradle my head while mine are gripping the front of his T-shirt and pulling him into me. When I feel his tongue slide along the seam of my lips, I open without hesitation. Confetticannons and champagne bottles are firing along the synapses in my brain and there’s a voice screaming that this is what a first kiss should be like. I can’t help but smile beneath his lips, and when he feels it, he slows his pace. I can feel his heart beating under my hands and his breath on my lips as he pulls back slightly.

“I guess that means you were ready?” He laughs as if he can’t believe what just happened.

“More than ready.” I lick my lips, wanting to taste him again. I’d never gotten the appeal of cinnamon gum until this very moment.

He nods down at me, his eyes boring into mine, full of hunger. He looks like a starving man who has been allowed to smell fresh bread but not given any to eat. “Four days wasn’t enough, and five was almost too many.”

“Like an avocado,” I say, and we burst out laughing again.

The walk back to our cars is different, more handsy, more stops to make out against trees and rocks, more silence, more stolen looks that neither of us tries to hide. I still don’t want to rush into things. I’m not going to be dragging him into the back of my car or planning sleepovers just yet.

“So,” I begin as we reach my car and come to a stop, “today has been a lot.” I can see panic start to take shape on his face, and I quickly add, “A good kind of a lot.” I reach up and place my hand on his cheek to try and convey how I feel. “But I still want to work on getting to know each other. So um—”

“You want to take it slow. Just maybe with more kissing?” I don’t know how he always seems to know what I need to hear or what I mean to say. He takes both my hands in his and slowly backs me into the side of my car. “I’ll have you know, Nellie, that I am pretty okay with taking things slow.” His lips drop to my jaw, and he kisses me lightly to my chin. Then his arms are caging me in and he’s gazing down atme with a fierceness that causes the butterflies to escape my stomach and travel elsewhere. “Just as long as you know I won’t be taking it slow or at any other speed with anyone else. It’s just you, LG. Only you,” he whispers before his lips meet mine again.

Just when I think I’m going to pass out from a lack of oxygen, Teddy stops and steps away abruptly. “Have a safe drive home.” He turns and leaves me leaning against my car door, panting like I’ve just run a mile. I watch him walk across the lot to his car, and when he gets there, he turns around.

“Hey, LG,” he yells.

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