Page 33 of Catch My Fall (Catch)

Me: Sounds awesome, but I am carless ‘cause I let Darby take mine.

Tristan: Then I’ll pick you up. You wanna spend the night here?

My heart sped up to a trillion beats per second but my answer was a definite yes. For the last week I haven’t woken up even once freaking out from the nightmare. I still have it, but it isn’t as bad. That’s huge progress for me and because of that, I felt good about saying yes. Besides, if I freaked out and had the nightmare, I would talk to him about it. I’m going to have to eventually anyway. Before I could tell him my answer was yes, he texted me back.

Tristan:I just mean sleep, babe. Still going slow. No pressure.

Me: I know… I got really excited, not scared. Promise. And yes, I’d like to spend the night. Let’s get IHOP breakfast in the morning, my treat.

Tristan: That sounds perfect Mimi. You’re a sugary angel. I’ll be there in fifteen ASAP. XO

Me: Can’t wait. XOX

Tristan: Oh, it’s like that? XOXXXXXO

Me: Dork!

Tristan: Yep, I’m your dork. Be there soon. XOXXXXXXXO!

After I tossed my phone down on my bed I spent the next five minutes throwing an overnight bag together. I was on a cloud of happiness so I’m not sure how I managed to pack without my feet ever touching the ground, I’m just glad that I did.

I stared into my pajama drawer for far too long in the misplaced hope that suddenly some really cute pajamas would appear, but they never did. Letting out a huff of frustration, I chose my least offensive pajamas: yellow flannel shorts with little purple rubber duckies and a matching sleep shirt. The ensemble wouldn’t be winning me any awards for sexy girlfriend, but it’s all that I had to work with considering that my other options were shorts with puppies, cats or teddy bears. After making a mental note to self to get some sleepwear that wasn’t so cutesy I went into the bathroom and packed a shower bag for the morning. I had just zipped everything up when I heard knocking at the door. Rushing to answer it, I smiled when I found Tristan in my doorway.

Every single time I see him, I feel the charge. I swear there’s electricity around him and I love it. Throwing my arms around him I tilted my head back and met his lips as he leaned in to kiss me. I used to wonder what people actually got from French kissing and why they enjoyed it so much, but now I know. I love the taste of Tristan on my tongue; love the feeling of our breath mingling. Kissing him is everything and I could do it for hours. We were so into the kiss that neither one of us moved to go into the room, instead standing in the doorway as we kissed… and kissed… and kissed. We pulled apart only when I heard a bitchy voice saying, “Oh that’s nasty. Poor Mia’s so silly that she’s just standing here letting the garbage put his tongue down her throat. You’re going to get herpes, honey.”

I groaned with annoyance that Tiffany was such a bitch she was trying to break us apart by talking crap, and Tristan went tense all over as he pulled away and turned around, probably ready to rip her head off. Grabbing his arm I tugged him back and stepped forward to take care of her myself.

“Gee Tiffany,are you jealous much? Listenhoney, if you want to tell every one of the guys you’ve had sex with since you got to school that you’ve got herpes and could have given it to them, you should probably just put out an announcement on the school website instead of trying to tell each person individually. We all know that could take weeks.”

Turning on my heel I pushed Tristan gently back so that he walked into my room, and I followed suit before closing the door behind me with a quiet click. I wanted to slam it in her gaping, stupid face, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction.

He yanked me to him as soon as the door closed, hugging me tightly against his chest. “I’m so sorry that just happened, babe. If I could turn back time…”

Reaching up I covered his mouth with my hand. “You can’t and it’s really no big deal. You’re with me now, you weren’t then, and other than thinking that Tiffany looks like a complete psycho bitch, I’m not fazed by it at all. She certainly isn’t going to keep me from a night of movies, snacks and you. Let’s grab my bag and get on the road. I’m hungry for some million calorie popcorn.”

After we got to his house we cuddled together on the couch to watchParanormal Activitywhile eating an entire bowl of his popcorn concoction. We tried to talk Trace into watching with us, but he wasn’t interested so he went to his room, probably to sit on his bed and watch ESPN. I really hoped that Darby was coming to some kind of decision that would stop the insanity.

When the movie was finished, Tristan asked if I wanted to watch something else and I said no. Even though I didn’t know how to say the words, I wanted to be in his big bed with him. I knew that we were not ready for sex yet—or, I wasn’t ready for sex yet—but I was definitely ready for more. I wanted to touch him and I wanted him to touch me. Sometimes when we’re making out I run my hands up under his shirt and it always makes me desperate to touch more of his skin but he always pulls back and reminds me that we have to go slow. It’s the very fact that he’s able to keep his head about him in those situations that makes me eager to explore with him. He’s very aware that I’m a virgin and he’s adamant about not doing anything that I’ll regret.

I went back into the bedroom to change into my pajamas while he headed off to the bathroom to change into his and I smiled to myself about how much progress I’ve really made since moving to Amarillo. I’m in the bedroom of the guy I’m dating and I’m getting dressed for bed—and it feels totally natural. I’m sure it helps that I’ve spent a lot of time in Tristan’s room over the last several weeks because it’s our default make-out room now that Trace is constantly on the couch. Tristan’s room is comfortable and I’ve come to like it even though it’s very sparse. Like the rest of the house, Trace’s room included, the furniture is new and everything is super-clean, but it’s got absolutely no decoration. The walls are a dark rich brown, not unlike the color of the chocolate eyes that have me under their spell, and the furniture is big and dark. The only real source of light color in the room is his comforter, which is basically a giant fluffy white cloud. The room looks and feels like him and I find it very comforting.

I smiled when he knocked on the door and I called out for him to come him. This, right here, is why he’s amazing. He knew to check and make sure that I was dressed and ready for him to come in and I love that. I feel so safe with him and so good about my decision to ‘try’. Honestly, it doesn’t even feel like I’m trying at all because being with him is effortless. I was scared as hell getting into this, but none of my fears have amounted to anything.

He entered the room with a smile that made my pulse race and my breath catch. Seeing those lips smiling for me makes me go all liquid inside. I took his attire in with a chuckle as I realized that he’d gone overboard to keep me from being uncomfortable.

“Stan,” I giggled, “I’m fairly certain that you don’t sleep in gray sweatpants and a t-shirt every night.”

He actually blushed a little bit at my words and I have to marvel at the fact that this one-time Malore was now so devoted to me that he’s willing to spend a night roasting to death in sweatpants just to be able to hold me in his arms.

“No, I don’t, but I’m not going to sleep how I normally sleep in that bed tonight, Mimi.”

My throat went a little dry and I swallowed past the burst of heat that swept through my body at the idea that he might sleep naked.

My voice came out huskier than usual as I asked, “How do you normally sleep?”

Running his hands through his hair he muttered, “Boxers.”

“Then wear the boxers. We need to be real, Stan. This is probably the first night of many and I don’t want you to cloak yourself like an Amish lady when I’m here.”

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