Page 35 of Just a Little Crush
He’s truly speechless, and I love that I have that effect on him. But at the same time, when he doesn’t speak to me, that’s when I feel most vulnerable. I need to know what’s going on in his head, but Rennie has never been one for talking about his feelings.
“Hey Renn,” I call after him. “Just so you know. I’ve never told anyone this stuff before. I trust you.”
18
Rennie
Nodecentfirefighterwouldever wish for a busy shift, but this one is painfully slow and I need distractions to keep my mind busy and off Bec. I kill a few hours on vehicle maintenance, then review our public safety demonstration materials before our next event. I take on extra cleaning duties, rattling through our monthly deep clean checklist before heading to the gym.
The gym is where I channel my frustration. I have a strict routine. An hour on the treadmill, then three sets of weights. I like the methodical, controlled nature of it. Counting up reps, counting down minutes. It keeps my head straight, stops me spiralling. Fills a physical, animal need to blow off steam.
Bec’s list is, excuse the expression, burning a hole in my pocket. I couldn’t risk leaving it in my coat, so it’s zipped into my shorts. If anyone wants to know her deepest, darkest, dirtiest desires, they’ll have to come through me.
This goddamn list. Places, positions, specifics.Realspecifics. She wants me to pull her hair. She wants me to cover her in lovebites. She wants me to pin her down, throw her around, fuck her in my car, pick her up in a bar as if I haven’t known her my entire life. She wants me to call her a good girlanda filthy whore.
I don’t even know why I told her that was a specific fantasy of mine, except that in that moment the idea of her giving me a list of her desires topped every other scenario I’ve pictured us in.
All these things I’ve told myself for years that I can’t have, shouldn’t even bethinkingabout. Not only does she want them, but she’s never told anyone but me. That’s what she said.“And I trust you.”It feels like a trick.
Her handwriting is a little scribbly towards the end, and it occurs to me that I’ve fucked up, big time. What on earth possessed me to ask her to write me a list when she’s still recovering from her wrist injury? It must have taken her ages. This is what happens when I only think about myself. People get hurt.
In a world where I do my best to keep everything under control, the one thing I have no control over is Bec. Didn’t plan for her getting injured, didn’t plan for her needing to stay with me. Absolutely didn’t plan on discovering that she’s a horny little maniac who apparently gets herself off multiple times a day thinking about me. Never in a millionyearsthought I’d be in possession of a dirty little wishlist that I’ve promised to fulfil
And I definitely didn’t plan for her asking me to kiss her. Sure, I’ve thought about it a million times, but never thought I’d get another chance after blowing it the first time. We kissed once, you see, years ago, and it was so awful for her that we never spoke of it again.
It was the summer we turned 18, the day we got our A-level result. For months, there’d been a plan to continue the long-standing Thatch Cross tradition of heading into Burrow Woods for a party. Even now I have to scope it out every year, swing by to make sure nobody’s lit a fire. I always recognise a few kids from self-defence class, give them my congrats, and then I leave them to get on with it.
Someone had brought some vodka that year. It wasn’t as if we never drank, but I dropped the ball and didn’t keep a proper eye on Bec. I had no idea how much she’d had to drink.
At some point in the evening, she’d called me over to sit with her on an old tree trunk. It had been there as long as I could remember. Even though we weren’t so close anymore, we’d climbed it together hundreds of times as kids.
With the party raging behind us, Bec asked me about my plans for summer; she’d be working in the shop, I’d be starting my firefighter training in a couple of weeks. She’d asked about my dreams for the rest of my life, and in that moment something unspoken passed between us. Her lips found their way to mine, and that was the future I saw.
It can’t have lasted more than thirty seconds, but she’d shifted effortlessly into my lap, our hands found each others, tongues met in the darkness. And then she pulled away, hiccupped, and puked all over her shoes.
I felt awful. If I’d known how drunk she was, I would never have kissed her. I was raised better than to take advantage of a woman. You never touch a woman who’s intoxicated, never put your hands on them in anger, never take what you want without their consent. I knew it then and I sure as hell know it now.
That night, I left immediately and asked her neighbour, Jamie, to take her straight home. The following morning, I stepped out of my house to go over and apologise, just in time to see her hug him goodbye on her front porch.
I’ve thought about that kiss a lot over the years, but our kiss this morning, that was something else. All the things I’ve never said sitting just beneath the surface. Things I’m dying to tell her, if only I could keep my hands to myself for five fucking minutes.
19
Bec
WhileI’dlovearepeat of yesterday morning, I also wanted to shower before Rennie got home from work. Just in case he felt like getting started on my list right away.
I knew getting clean would be a mission, but my heart melted a little when I discovered he had put a stool in the shower for me. Yes, it made me feel 85 years old, but it turns out sitting down to shower is a total game changer. I could wash my hair, I even managed to shave my legs and check out my bruises without falling. Sitting under that hot water with nothing to do but relax? Utter heaven.
When Rennie rolls in, I’m eating cereal at the breakfast bar, gently flexing my ankle one way, then the other.
He looks exhausted, dishevelled, and sad. I want to hug him, stroke my fingers through his still damp hair, but he busies himself rinsing his water bottle and doesn’t even turn to look at me.
“Are you going to sleep?” I ask as he makes for the hallway.
“Just a quick snooze. I have Rhyme Time at 11.”
“Can I come with you?”
