Page 35 of Still Falling for You

At some point, my hands start shaking, because in my naïve mind, I’ve always thought when Alex said he lived in a flat, I imagined one of those punky urban loft conversions with skylights and brick walls. I can’t fathom how both his mum and he can coexist in such a small space. When I picture our house, the thought makes me feel itchy, like there are ants under my skin.

I stare at myself for a long moment in the cracked mirror. I’m too neat and preppy-ish in my blue shirt and yellow-and-red zip-up hoodie. How can he stand me being here? I would hate it if I were him. I think back to my dad and the way he behaved towards Alex. A strange pang of rage at my dad and this whole situation colours my vision red; I want to smash things, but that would be highly counter-productive right now.

I tug at my shirt nervously before I walk back to the main room, my heart in my throat. Straight away, I notice that theheap of clothes on the bed is neatly piled in a column and the make-up bag has disappeared. His back towards me, Alex is standing in the compact kitchenette, making tea judging by the sounds and smells.

He confirms my guess. ‘Sorry, we ran out of coffee, and I haven’t had a chance to do a shop this week. I know you don’t drink tea, but it’s all we have.’ He seems so coolly polite and distant, and I can’t bear it anymore.

I want the opposite of distance. Until now, I’ve not realised how much I need him. It’s developed into this physical ache, and it scares the hell out ofme. I need every single part of our bodies to be touching to make sure he’s OK and that we’re OK, and I need it right now, but I don’t know how to ask for it. I’ve never initiated any serious physical contact, feeling shy and inexperienced next to Alex. It has always been Alex who would hold my hand, stroke my cheek or kiss me.

‘Please stop,’ I implore.

He slowly turns around, the steaming tea abandoned on the counter.

‘What? You don’t want tea?’ He’s still using that impassive tone, and I don’t know how to snap him out of it. I’m desperate.

I gather my nerves and walk towards him. I grab his face and press my lips against his, my body coming flush with his. Toes to toes, thighs to thighs, stomach to stomach. His heart is beating fast against my chest, in synchrony with mine. I’ve never touched a boy like this before. I know I’m being a bit clumsy, but now that I’ve touched Alex, I can’t stop or even consider the possibility of ever wanting to touch another human being who is not Alex.

At first, Alex doesn’t do anything. Then, as if a switch was turned on, he opens up to me and our tongues connect, the sensation electrifying the insides of mymouth and sending tingling numbness down my spine. He slides his hands down my back and to my backside, squeezing with urgency.The combination of his slick tongue, the cool sting of his piercing against my bottom lip and his hands on my bum is indescribable. We’ve kissed and touched before, and it has always been amazing, but I’ve never thought it could be like this. My core has turned hot and liquid like lava and I need Alex to do something, but I’m not sure exactly what.

Everything inside me clenches as he presses me against him. I can feel him hard against my leg, and the proof of him wanting me as much as I want him makes me moan. I need to feel every part of him, but I’m too shy to really touch him where I want to the most, so I settle on his shoulders.But I’m restless and impatient and move to his waist, my fingers dipping under his T-shirt where his skin is the softest. He pulls it off and over his head and then disposes of my hoodie.

Not breaking the kiss, he guides me towards the sofa, and we sort of fall, tumble, with Alex’s weight pressing down on me. He is heavy, but the solidness of his body against mine feels delicious, and my bones crave him. I feel vulnerable and fragile, about to disintegrate under his touch. A pang of panic speeds up my pulse, but I don’t want to stop or slow down to overthink what’s happening between us.

He pushes my thigh up and hooks it over his hip, spreading my legs enough for him to settle between them. The position makes us even closer. Hands searching, I explore his lean back, and my nails rake down his body from shoulders to waist. He groans and arches against me, and the reaction sends my head back, slamming against the armrest.

He moves his hand between our bodies. Even through the jeans, his touch is everything, and the heat between my legs quadruples. I can’t think and my eyes close to process the strong feeling. All I think is that I’ve never wanted anybody so much in my life and that I need him to do things I’ve never thought I would want another being to do to me. I want them all with Alex.

He shifts his focus to the waist of my jeans, his fingersdelving under the waistband towards the place I want him to touch me. Some vestige of nervousness comes back, and I jerk under his advances. As if pulled from a trance, he shrinks back and sits up against the opposite corner of the sofa. His cheeks are flushed, his red hair tousled.

‘No,’ he forces through his gritted teeth. A hard lump forms in my throat and threatens to choke me.

‘Was I that bad? I’ve never…’ I don’t know how to finish the sentence without crying.

Alex gathers his T-shirt and pulls it on. As he stands, he mumbles, ‘I’m not your rebel boy to piss off your daddy.’

Is that what this is about? I’m hurt that he thinks so little of me, but when I replay his words, all I hear is vulnerability, and I can’t stay cross at him. He always seems so composed and confident. I have never thought that he might not feel that way. I have never given him the benefit of the doubt.

I stand and put my hand on his arm, but he shakes it off.

‘It’s not what this is.’ I try to speak calmly but fail halfway through.

‘I shouldn’t have touched you like that, I’m sorry. I think you should go.’ He turns around and starts pouring the undrunk cups of tea into the sink without looking at me.

I consider just leaving and being angry at him for being stupid, but then I get defeated and instead whisper, ‘I’m in love with you.’

He freezes, the water running loudly in the sudden silence. The cups clank in the sink. His shoulders stiffen, but he’s frozen otherwise, like what I’ve just said bears no weight. A tear escapes my eye and leaks over my flushed cheek. I brush it off, not wanting him to see my shame. Not knowing what to say, I say the lamest thing I can think of, ‘I’ll see you at school.’

I’m almost at the door when he envelops me in his arms, pressing me against him with an urgency that nearly chokesme. His heart is pounding what feels like a thousand beats per minute against my chest.

‘I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry,’ he mutters into my hair. ‘I thought… it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.’ When he pushes away, his face is shattered and devastatingly handsome. His eyes don’t leave mine when he says, ‘I’m in love with you, too.’

Knee-trembling relief floods through my system. He wraps both his arms around me again but then pauses, his nostrils flaring.

‘Have you used my deodorant?’

I can’t help but grin. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.

16

---