Page 281 of Releasing 10
“In what context, Hugh?”
“In every context, Mam.”
“I’m looking for more information on the physical, son.”
Yeah, I knew she was, and I was desperately trying to steer the conversationawayfrom that information.
“She’s younger than you, Hugh,” Mam pushed. “You’rebothveryyoung.”
“By eight months,” I reminded her, feeling my back go up. “And I’m aware of how old we are, Mam.”
“Then you’re also aware that you’re far too young to have an intimate relationship.”
“Define intimate.”
“Sexual intimacy, Hugh.”
“We’re not doing anything likethat,” I offered, shifting in discomfort. “We kiss, Mam. That’s it.”
She arched a disbelieving brow. “Don’t lie to me.”
Aw, crap.
Aw, crap.
“We’re both virgins,” I tossed out, feeling my palms sweat. “And I intend to keep it that way for a long time.”
Her brown eyes locked on mine, clearly taking my measure, before she let out a shaky breath. “I’m relieved to hear that, son, because I raised you to be a gentleman.”
“Yeah,” I croaked out. “And I’m being one, Mam.”
BIRTHDAY TRIPS TO THE BEACH
Lizzie
JUNE 8, 2003
WE DIDN’T LIVE FAR FROM THE COAST, A TWENTY-MINUTE DRIVE, WHICH MADE ORGAnizing transport a breeze on sunny days. When Mam dropped us off at the beach this morning, Hugh and I spent the whole day splashing around in the ocean, exploring rock pools, and lazing about on the sand.
Because my boyfriend was knee-deep in exams, with another stacked week ahead, including my fifteenth birthday tomorrow, we decided to celebrate today, instead.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned later that afternoon when we decided to take a stroll up the cliffs.
“Oh, come on,” I coaxed, taking a step closer to the edge. “It’ll be fun.”
“True, but you’re not a strong enough swimmer.” Catching ahold of my hand, Hugh pulled me back to him. “And you’re fully dressed.”
“Clothes can be removed, Hugh,” I teased, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Come on.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Live a little.”
“And if you drown?”
“How can I drown if I have a life buoy?” I shot back with a wink, wiggling my foot to jingle my ankle bracelet. “And a merman for a boyfriend.”
“Shark, not merman,” he corrected, a smile creeping across his face. “You really want to do this?”
I nodded eagerly. “It can be my birthday present.”
“You already got your birthday present,” he replied, gesturing to the shiny new semicolon charm attached to my bracelet.
