Page 46 of Unspoken Words
“Did he say what the incident was?”
“No.”
I tugged a loose thread on the hem of my dress, deliberating whether to share what I knew. “Promise you won’t say anything?”
“No, but tell me anyway.”
I rolled my eyes. “Tristan told me she flashed a teacher.”
Chris burst out laughing.
I whacked his leg. “It’s not funny. It’s sick. She was thirteen. He would’ve been like fifty or something.”
“She’s definitely got issues.”
“Um … yeah, that’s why I don’t trust her. And I don’t understand why Connor even talks to her. He doesn’t like girls like her.”
“Connor’s not stupid. He wouldn’t let someone like Lilah get in the way.”
Letting out a long-winded breath, I tapped Ruby on her pink button nose. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am.”
“Good. Now get out. You stink.”
He wiped his armpit on my head before standing up. “You love my stink. Admit it.”
I didn’t. But I did love him … sometimes.
*
I’d stayedshitty with Connoruntil I received a note on my bus seat on the last day of school. He’d been sitting behind me, mucking around on his guitar when I unfolded the paper. Or at least I thought he’d been mucking around until I’d married the words I was reading with the tune he was playing, soon discovering he was serenading me with “When I See You Smile” by Bad English.
My heart had melted, as had my underwear, which I’d removed rather quickly after we’d walked to his house and ‘made up’. Not make-up sex. Just kissing, touching and playing around like we always did. I hadn’t wanted our first time to be off the back of a fight. We were worth so much more than that, which was why now, sitting by the river on my cozy picnic rug at our annual family camping trip, I planned to finally give him my virginity. It was perfect—at the place where we began.
Shaded by the draping branches of a Weeping Willow tree, I scribbled notes in my notebook while appreciating the sight of Connor’s delicious body as he fished. Tanned, taut skin accentuated by muscles that weren’t too big or too small glistened with perspiration from the sun’s relentless heat.
I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and smiled. I loved when he was shirtless, when I could see with my own eyes the strength of his arms and chest and know they were all mine and no one else’s.
Strands of his copper-streaked hair clung to his neck and face, and his arse … oh my God, it fit perfectly snug inside a pair of Greenhills football shorts.
My Connor was very yummy, and as he stood by the riverbank, nodding to a tune he was playing inside his head, he looked happy, so I wrote a little poem.
At peace is he when among the fishies.
I giggled to myself and crossed it out, instead refocussing on the muscle definition of his arms and legs as he held the rod in front of his body. My face heated, and this time I not only sucked my bottom lip into mouth, I also bit down on it. Hard. The way he was standing was so erotic, and it delighted my girly parts as much as girly parts could be delighted.
Bringing my pen to my lips, I traced them from left to right, right to left and had the sudden urge to lick something, preferably him, the thought of exploring his body with my tongue and hands exciting me even more. I was done waiting and wondering, done skating across the surface of our need for one another. I wanted to experience sex, to feel it, smell it, taste it. I wanted to entwine myself with Connor’s mind, heart, body, and soul in a way we’d never done before. Where he ended, I started, and vice versa.
I wanted to become one.
It was time.
Jotting down ‘we begin where we end’, I closed my notebook and leaned back on my elbows, sounding a “psst.”
Connor twisted his shoulders to look at me. “Yeah?”
“No bites?”
