Page 10 of Wrap Around
It's just me and Silas. Laughing. Splashing. Wrestling. Walking out of the water to drip dry and warm up under the sun.
I'm hard.
It's embarrassing and I can't hide it. Swim trunks don't leave much to the imagination, and I've been looking at him wrong all day. Thinking about wrong things when we were playing around in the water. It's so wrong. Wrong in a way that feels right. So right it scares me.
Silas looks down, his eyes widening when he sees it.
I step back, trying to stammer out an excuse, face flaming. But then I see it, his own reaction.
We stand in mirrored shock, breathing heavily. Neither of us can decide where to look, eyes or the obvious erections tenting both of our shorts. Then his gaze, eyes golden in the light of the sun, locks on mine.
I don't give my legs permission to move, but suddenly we're moving closer. Slowly. Tentatively. Until there's no space between us. Until our chests and our mutual hardness presses together, and I think I'm going to explode from the shock of it.
I swallow. Stare at his mouth. I want to…
But I won't. I know I won't do it. I'll chicken out and then agonize over it for the rest of my life.
But Silas isn't afraid. He closes the distance and presses our lips together.
Neither of us move at first. Just press together, breathing through our noses. Then his mouth shifts, brushing mine back and forth in a caress that tingles in the base of my neck and travels down my spine.
I've kissed a girl before. Sort of. Once, during a church lock in. It was clumsy. Awkward. Nothing like this.
This is… I don't know what this is.
This feels like those first moments when you jump off the highest cliff, when the fear of falling meets the euphoria of all the wind rushing around you. Like the last breath you take before you plunge into the depths of cold, dark water. Like that brief moment when you worry you won't have enough breath to make it to the surface, the pressure of your lungs expanding in your chest as you frantically kick and reach towards the reflection of the sun through the ripples you made when you splashed down.
It's invigorating, even though I know it's wrong. The way his hand fists the waistband of my swim trunks to hold me against him is so far past sinful. The way my skin burns everywhere his touches mine is hellfire, and the way his lips open, tongue gently pressing against the seam of my lips is an abomination that chokes on the air I let in on a gasp.
When his tongue touches mine, my knees give out.
We collapse onto the grassy bank together. His body over mine. A thigh between mine. Hands grip my waist, grounding me while my whole world spins. My hands have a mind of their own, fingers biting into his skin as they curl into his shoulder blades, desperately clawing at him to keep him close, to anchor us both so we don't fling off the surface of the planet.
The heat of his skin. The weight of him. The intoxicating mix of lake water and sun and sweat. It all brands itself into me.
We feed off each other like we're starving, like we might never get the chance again.
Maybe we both know we won't. Maybe that's why neither of us stop, even after a wave of pure intoxication pulls me under. I cry out, and he swallows my cries before he shivers against me and makes a sound that I know will follow me into hell and keep me company when I'm finally called to atone for my sins.
Even now, years later, with the distance and the bitterness and everything broken between us, I still feel that kiss like a brand on my soul. I still hear his choked moan of pleasure. And every time I relive it, I end up with the same sticky mess inside my shorts and the same pain inside my heart. Because I knew, even then, that I wouldn't be able to outrun my love or my shame.
I've tried to forget it.
But I don't think I ever will.
I think I'm cursed with this love and arousal and shame spiral I've been in for three long years.
CHAPTER 5
SILAS
We're two weeks into the season and I don't think I've been this tired since finals my senior year, when Adaline was a colicky newborn and Lily and I were surviving on caffeine and prayer. Even then, at least I wasn't trying to figure out whether my former best friend was going to pass me the puck or beat me to death with it.
We pulled off a couple of wins by the skin of our teeth last week. Barely, and they felt like flukes. Sure enough, we dropped two in a row after that. We're on a losing streak, and I can't help but blame it on mine and Gideon’s on-ice chemistry, or lack of it. I've been busting my ass to make up for his bullshit, but my energy is waning. For one short moment, I thought maybe we were getting our rhythm back, but something shifted again. I don't know what I did this time, or what's caused him to pull back even more, but I've been struggling to make up for it.
Now we're back in Abbotsford, getting ready for another game. I'm praying that Gideon will pull his head out of his ass before the puck drops. Because if we can't figure out how to play together, we're not going to last the season. The whole team knows it, too. Isee the pitying way they look at me, and they don't even know everything I went through to get here.
Off the ice, I'm doing everything I can to stay grounded. I've been helping Lily unpack the new house between games, practices, and workouts. I've been living out of a suitcase or in tiny apartments and billet housing for so long, I’d forgotten what it's like to have my own place. This house is huge compared to what we're used to. And a big house means a lot of furniture and building a thousand damn shelves. Not that I'm mad about it. This place feels way too nice for a couple of kids who have been living in a single-wide behind their parent’s house until now, but it's ours. There's a fenced-in backyard, a whole room for laundry, and a kitchen island that made Lily squeal so loudly I worried the glass light fixtures might shatter. Even that reaction couldn't compare to her own suite with a private bathroom and enough shelves for her own personal library, which I set up early to surprise her with. Building all those IKEA shelves was worth it to see her smile.
