I cut my eyes to Matty. “I had to beg you to let me go.”
“I remember. He was two years ahead of you and a little wild. I was afraid you’d get into trouble.”
I nod. “Yeah, well, you were right to be worried. There was alcohol. A lot of it. Waylon’s friend’s older brother brought a case of moonshine and snuck it past Priscilla and Holland.”
My voice softens. “We ended up in the barn.”
Charli’s eyes widen. “We …”
I take a deep breath. “Yes. We. Me and Waylon.”
She grabs the wine off the table beside the swing. “We’re gonna need more wine for this,” she says as she tops off our glasses. She sets the empty bottle down and turns back to me. “Continue. It’s just getting good.”
“First, he kissed me out at the bonfire,” I say quietly. “And it felt like everything.”
Charli squeals despite herself. “Was he your first kiss?”
I look away. “Yes.”
The porch goes silent.
“So, he’s a good kisser? I bet he is.”
I nod. “Made my toes curl.”
Charli sighs.
“How did you end up in the barn?” she asks.
“We went for a walk. Looking for some privacy and that’s where we landed.”
“Then what happened?” Matty asks.
“Other things.”
“What other things?” she asks.
I swallow. “All the other things.”
Charli gasps. “Shelby Marie Storm, did Waylon Ludlow pop your cherry in a barn?”
I bite my bottom lip and nod, not able to meet their eyes.
“So, he wasn’t just your first kiss; he was your first everything,” she whispers.
“Yep.”
“God, you were, what, sixteen?” Matty mutters.
Charli rolls her eyes. “You were sixteen.”
“No, I was eighteen. And I was a very mature eighteen. Eighteen going on thirty-five,” Matty says.
“True,” Charli agrees, then turns her focus back to me. “How was it?”
“He was very drunk,” I mutter.
“Ugh, did he have a hard time keeping it up?” she asks.
