Page 9 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
He drops his hands to mine and squeezes them. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”
When I don’t respond, a look of panic slants across his brow. “This one thing. It’s all I’m asking. I have to leave tomorrow, Tess. For good.Forever.”
I can’t do anything but stare back at him. I thought I was going to die a virgin, or I’d have to pay someone to take it from me. I’m just weird Tess,wildTess,unhingedTess.
The thought of someone wanting my virginity, and that person being Federico, has stunned me into silence. Maybe I should feel grateful that someone has seen through my emo aesthetic and liked what they’ve seen. Maybe this is the only chance I’ll get to rid myself of the innocence that the underworld surrounding us seems to prize so highly.
“Please Tess.” He’s begging. “Just this one thing. Please. For me. For our decade of friendship.Please.”
He leans forward and presses erratic kisses to mytemple and cheeks. “It’s all I dream about, Tess. This is our last chance. Please let me give us something to remember.”
His kisses are fervent, scattered.
And so desperate he almost doesn’t hear my reply.
“Yes.”
Contessa
There’s an empty space above the dance studio. I think it’s supposed to be an office but there’s no furniture—only wooden boards and a couple rugs. There’s a small kitchenette off to the side and another small room which is also empty. And with it being the middle of winter, it’s alsofreezing. But this is the only place I could think of where Federico and I could be together away from the prying eyes of our families.
It’s mid-morning on a Sunday—not a time I’d ordinarily have chosen to lose my virginity, but then again, it’s not something I’d planned on doing any time soon.
The studio is closed on a Sunday so no one’s around, and—thankfully—no one else seems to be aware the lock on this upstairs officehas been broken for weeks.
Fed takes the stairs cautiously and presses an ear to the door before pushing it open, then I follow him inside. I hug my arms around myself and walk to the window, half conscious of Fed behind me unpacking a couple of bags he brought with him. The street is quiet with only the occasional yellow cab crawling through on a shortcut to somewhere more interesting. For one of the most monumental moments in my life, this day sure feels mundane.
“Did you bring the, um…?” I ask without looking around. I can’t seem to form the word ‘condom’—it sounds so foreign in my head, but Fed understands.
“Yeah, Tess. Of course I did.”
I watch the street for another five minutes and when the shuffling behind me stops, I turn around and swallow.
Federico has laid out comforters, pillows and blankets and surrounded them with candles. Flames flicker gently in the darkened room and a bottle of vodka stands by the wall. Fed’s gaze follows mine. “I thought, you know, it might help.” He shrugs. “I want it to be good.”
My legs tremble as I close the gap between us. I lower to my knees. The blankets make the room warmer somehow. Softer.
He reaches for the bottle and twists off the cap, then holds it out to me. “Want some?”
My fingers brush his when I take it from him and a shiver darts through my arm and across my shoulders. I never used to have this reaction to my best friend. Hewas always just… Fed. But he’s about to become something a whole lot more. He’s going to be written into my history—a part of the fabric of who I am.
I take a long swig of the vodka and stifle the urge to choke on it. The most I’ve ever drunk is the occasional glass of wine at family dinners, and even then it’s come with a side of scrutiny from my aunt.
The heat of the alcohol works its way into my stomach and it doesn’t take long for it to loosen my limbs and soften my inhibitions.
I look up from beneath nervous lashes. “So, how do we do this?”
His expression sobers. “I want you to feel comfortable.”
I’m not sure what that means so, with trembling fingers, I cross my arms, grip the hem of my sweater and pull it over my head. When my gaze drops to Fed he’s staring at my bra, his eyes wide, the rest of him unmoving.
“O-okay… Fuck,” he says, quietly.
It seemed to be the right move, so I stand shakily and push my leather-look leggings over my hips, knees and ankles, then kick them to the side. Fed’s gaze drops to my bare stomach, then slides down to the apex of my thighs. He swallows loudly. “You are fucking beautiful, Tess.”
When he looks up, there’s something indecipherable behind his eyes. It’s a heartbreaking combination of hunger and despair.
“Come here.” His voice is hoarse.
