Page 105 of Pieces of Ash
I gulp because I know he’s telling the truth, but I hate it. I close my eyes again, breathing through my sorrow.
“All we have is now,” he says.
“Now,” I murmur.
“…if we want it,” he adds. “Ifyouwant it. It you want…me.”
“I do,” I say, leaning forward until my forehead touches his. “I want whatever time we have left.” I pause, holding my breath, measuring the words I’m about to say and letting myself exhale before I say them. “I wantyou, Julian.”
His forehead leaves mine, and a moment later his body depresses the mattress beside me. I open my eyes and look up at him.
“Iwantyou,” I say.
I search his eyes and find such tenderness there, such hopefulness, it makes my tired heart sing with a sudden shot of renewed energy.
“How do you mean?” he asks, his voice low and fierce. “In what way?”
Again, I think about what I’m about to say before I say it, just to make sure, but it doesn’t take long for me to know my mind, for me to own my truth. My heart and my mind have already been in communication about what they want, it seems, and they are in perfect communion.
“Inallways,” I say, reaching for his face with my hands. The scruff of his unshaven jaw tickles my palms and makes me smile. “Ineveryway.”
“You mean it, Ash?” he whispers, his breath rushing at me like he’s been holding it.
I nod, slowly at first, then with more and more confidence. “I want you to be my first, Julian. I have no idea what will happen tomorrow, but I know what I want today. I want you to be my first.”
He starts to smile, then rolls his lips between his teeth for a second before asking, “Are yousure, baby?”
I think about Tig having sex with all those men who meant nothing to her. And then I look into the eyes of the man before me. I haven’t known him that long, it’s true. But in a handful of days, he has become my friend, my protector, and my first love. And in another handful of days, I will likely lose him—either to a life with a man I hate, or a life of unknowns that cannot include him. We arein betweenright now, on an island between the past and the future. It’s finite, and it’s fragile, and no matter what happens next, I want to make the very most of this moment with him.
“I’m positive,” I say, leaning forward to press my lips to his.
We fall back on the bed together, kissing each other, grappling with our clothing. His hands fall to the hem of my shirt while mine land on his belt buckle. But after a moment of struggling, he breaks away from me and stands up.
Grinning down at me, he reaches for the button on my waistband and unsnaps it, unzips the zipper, and pulls the jeans down my legs. Then he reaches behind his neck and yanks his T-shirt over his head. His chest is solid and beautiful, and I sigh.
“Do you work out?”
His grin widens.
“Yeah.” He flexes his pecs on purpose, and they pop. “I have weights in the barn.”
I sit up and run my fingers from his shoulders to his waist. He’s not overly ripped like a football player or bodybuilder. He’s still human, but with some very nice definition, including a V of muscle that disappears into the waistband of his jeans. I love that V. I want to know everything about where it leads.
I undo his belt buckle and unsnap his jeans, which he shoves down his legs. Underneath, he wears tight cotton shorts in navy blue, and his sex, his—my cheeks flush as I think this word—dick,is a rigid column underneath the thin fabric, bulging up and slightly to the right. My eyes fix on it, wondering howthatis going to fit inside me.
As though he can read my mind, Julian whispers, “It’s okay. We’ll go slow.”
I look up at him, holding his eyes as I slip my fingers into the elastic waistband of his underwear and pull down. My heart is thundering as he reaches down to help me lift the fabric over his erection and down his legs.
I am tempted to look down, to look at him—allof him—but a feeling of shame, or maybe of shyness, overwhelms me, and suddenly I can’t look anywhere. I close my eyes, clenching them shut. Intense heat suffuses my cheeks, and I imagine how ridiculous I must look, perched on the edge of the bed in white panties and a T-shirt, with a naked man standing in front of me.
“Ash,” he says softly, and his voice is so close to my ears, I know he’s not standing over me anymore.
When I open my eyes, he’s squatting before me, just as he was before.
“We can stop here.”
“No!” I say, reaching for the hem of my T-shirt and whipping it over my head. What was it Gus said?It’s not wrong to want someone. It’s not wrong to like them. And it’s not wrong to give yourself over to loving if the chance arises.“I want this. Please.” I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra. “Help me, Julian.”
