The oak tree in front of my bedroom window begins to shake. Sometimes raccoons or possums climb the tree at night. I peer out to get a closer look when a tall figure appears, startling me before it swings through my window into my bedroom.
“Jayson?”
Jayson says nothing as he stands before me. His dark brown hair, which is disheveled and sticking up in various places, looks as if he’s been raking his hands through it. I can see the streaks of gold woven throughout his thick chocolate hair reflected by the faint light coming in through my window. Jayson’s metallic eyes bore into mine, their glow in the darkness rivaling that of a full moon. I’m forced to look up at him as he’s several inches taller than I. He’s breathing hard, fists clenched at his sides. He looks angry, wild, but his eyes hold something else. Something that causes my pulse to skip and speed up.
“Jayson?” I ask again unsure, raising my hand to touch him.
As soon as my fingers graze the side of his face, his eyes change, pupils fully dilating making his irises look almost black. He takes a step toward me. I take a step back. It’s almost like we’re dancing. My pulse quickens even more. Jayson’s heated eyes track across my face like an intimate caress. He takes another step forward until his body is mere inches from mine.
Something shifts between us. It’s electricity charged with lightning. Heat fired with an internal flame. Air from our lungs comes out in short, sharp puffs. Even though Jayson isn’t physically touching me, I can feel himeverywhere. Every synapse, every nerve ending, fires to life within my body. He takes another slow half step toward me, our chests touching. His mesmerizing eyes hold my green ones and I couldn’t look away from him now if my life depended on it.
Slowly, very slowly, as if he’s about to touch something precious and fragile, Jayson lifts his right hand and cups the side of my face, fingers curling around the nape of my neck, thumb curling under my chin. He repeats this with his left hand. Using both thumbs, he gently lifts my face upward, his thumb pulling down on my bottom lip and tracing its contour. I freeze, my muscles lock up knowing what’s coming but disbelieving it’s about to happen.
Our eyes remain tethered together as he inches his face closer until I can feel the tickle of the breath from his parted lips onto mine. My mouth parts as I hold my breath expectantly waiting for what’s to come.
“I love you, Liz,” he breathes into me before taking those final millimeters and touching his lips to mine.
I get just a moment to feel the softness of his lips, the fullness, before he devours me.
It’s like an out of body experience.
My first kiss.
My first kiss with Jayson.
I never have really kissed a boy before. Yes, I know all my friends are way more experienced than I am when it comes to kissing or being intimate with boys. I have absolutely no sexual experience to fall back on to help me figure out what I need to do. So I relinquish control to Jayson knowing he will guide the way.
I feel his tongue tentatively touch the corner of my mouth, his thumb pulling my lower lip further down, and then pure ecstasy. With little nips and dancing tongues our mouths open to each other. As soon as my tongue touches his, he presses into my body fully, wrapping his arms around me, one arm around my waist, the other around my shoulders so his hand is able to guide my head to where he wants it, to kiss me deeper. I can never possibly imagine that anyone will ever kiss me as thoroughly as Jayson is kissing me right now.
I don’t know how long we stand in the middle of my bedroom, lips kiss-swollen and fused together. It’s as if we can’t breathe unless we are taking in the air of the other. It’s heady and intoxicating. My heart at that moment splits into two, and one part merges with Jayson’s.
The sound of his phone pinging every second breaks us out of our intimate dance. I am the first to pull away even though we continue to cling to one another.But that’s enough time for my brain to begin to clear from the sensual fog of Jayson’s kisses and I start to panic. What have we done?
I try to remove myself from his arms but he’s not having it.
“Liz. Stop.”
My panic rises.
“Jayson, what have we done?”
“Something we should have done a long time ago,” he replies softly, pulling me back for another kiss to prove his point.
“No, you don’t understand. You don’t get it,” my voice rises. “This changes everything. What happens to our friendship? What happens to Julien? To Ryder?”
At the mention of Ryder’s name, I feel Jayson tense.
Without fully letting me go, he pulls me backward to my bed and sits down with me in his lap, arms continuing to hold my body which is now shaking.
“Liz, look at me.”
I refuse.
“Liz,” he says more sternly, “Look at me.”
Once he has my attention, he pulls my face to his and kisses me slowly, once, twice, three times, until all the tension leaves my body.
“I’ll deal with Julien and Ryder. You don’t need to worry about them. Nothing is going to change. I promise.”
