His last words make me spin around and leap into his arms before he can finish unbuttoning the dress. He catches me instantly, walking us backward toward the bed as I tug down the straps and push the dress lower.
By now, the only thing covering me is my white lace bra.
I pull the clips from my hair as quickly as I can, tossing them all to the floor. He sits on the bed and I straddle him, pushing him down flat, lying on top of him as my lips crash into his. Vincent captures my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging while his hands work determinedly at the stubborn buttons of my dress.
Then, with a huff, he pulls back, giving me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, baby. I promise I’ll sew everything back together myself.”
“Wh—Ah!”
A ripping sound fills the room and my eyes widen. He grins devilishly, and I want to roll my eyes and scold him, but instead I sit up on top of him, arms crossed, pretending to be mad. He only laughs, enjoying every second as my ruined dress slips away, leaving me nearly naked straddling him.
His cheeks burn red when I unclasp my bra and toss it aside. A secret smile plays on my lips as I tug off his tie and throw it down too. “You’re overdressed.”
Laughing, he shrugs out of his jacket and shirt in seconds. Clothes scatter across the floor until there’s nothing left between us. When Vincent suddenly flips me beneath him, tucking me into the sheets, a rush of performance anxiety floods me.
What if he pulls away again after tonight? What if—no. He’s not like my father. She’s not right about him. She will never be right about him.
“Nova... what’s wrong?” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
He’s lying between my legs, nothing left separating us. I shake my head, cup his face, and pull him down to me. “Nothing, I... I’m just nervous. That’s all.”
“You don’t hav—”
“I want this,” I cut him off, my voice fierce. “I want it so badly.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, voice low, peppering kisses across my face.
I nod without hesitation. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. You?”
Vincent blushes, eyes darting down to the base of my neck. “I’m dying to... Yes. God, yes.”
The first notes of Patti Smith’sBecause the Nightblast from the stereo just as his lips crash back onto mine, urgent, hungry. My hand fumbles in the nightstand drawer until I pull out the box of condoms I bought the other day.
His hands tremble as he tears one out. We fumble for what feels like forever, laughing nervously as we struggle to open it and figure out how it goes on. It’s awkward, but also intimate and fun, breaking the tension enough to calm my nerves.
Still, my thoughts are racing. I’m about to lose my virginity to my best friend, just minutes before his birthday. Will I please him? Will it be good enough? Will he enjoy it? Will I? My head is a storm.
“The song I sang at the concert with Straight Punch last year... it was for you,” he suddenly blurts.
My eyes widen, and when I jerk up in shock, our foreheads bump painfully together. We both burst into laughter—Vincent even sneezes.
“Feel better now?” he asks, blowing his nose with a tissue.
“What?”
“You were wound up like a violin string. I just wanted to make you relax.” He tosses the tissue into the bin and slips back under the sheets beside me.
“I’m nervous, Vincent. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared.”
“I’m nervous too, Nova. You’re not alone in this. If you don’t fe—”
“I do,” I whisper firmly.
Something shifts in his eyes, and suddenly he’s on top of me again. He pauses, searching my face for one last sign. I nod, and he positions himself.
My hands grip his hair, tugging as he slowly pushes into me. A startled moan escapes my lips as my body clings tightly to him. I can’t tell if it’s pain or pleasure, or if my nerves are clouding everything.
Minutes stretch on, his movements careful, tender.
