Boys Like You

Monroe was quiet for a few moments, her forehead furrowed as if she was thinking really hard.

“She’s going to need someone this year. I mean, I won’t be upset if you are the one she leans on.”

“So let me get this straight. You’re giving me permission to hang out with my ex-girlfriend.”

Her eyebrow rose. “Just hang out. You know, if you want to, because I think she needs someone right now.”

God, I loved this girl.

“But no touching,” she continued.

I grabbed her chin. I stared into her eyes so she had to see me—had to know how I felt. “I don’t want to touch anyone but you, Monroe. There is no one else for me.” I shrugged. “There just isn’t.”

“Let’s go inside.”

I knew what she was asking. What she wanted. And it’s not like I hadn’t thought about it every night for the past few weeks. It’s not like I hadn’t dreamed of being with her. Of watching her breathe and move. Of knowing what it felt like to be inside her.

But…this wasn’t just any girl. “Are you sure, Monroe?”

Her lips slid across mine until her mouth was against my ear. “Yes.”

***

The house was in darkness but she didn’t care.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

I grabbed Monroe’s hand and led her down the hall. My room was at the back of the house, and I shoved the door open, following Monroe inside.

“Is there a light?” she asked, her voice light like a whisper on the wind.

I crossed to my bed and turned on the lamp. Its glow was muted, which was nice, and I watched the shadows that danced across her face.

She twirled a piece of hair between her fingers and I knew her well enough now to know that she was nervous. Hell, so was I. I’d never had sex with someone who I was in love with, and it mattered so much more on so many levels.

Sure, I thought I’d been in love with Rachel, but now I knew different. Now I’d felt and touched real love. Real love was full of emotion—it wasn’t just about the physical stuff, getting laid or making out.

Emotion and love together? It changed things.

“I’ve never…” Her eyes slid away from mine. “I’ve never done it before.”

I’d suspected Monroe was a virgin, and the enormity of what she was giving me pressed into my chest and I ran my hands through my hair, because in that moment, I didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you.” She sounded anxious. Scared.

I took the two steps needed to reach her and slid my hands into her hair, holding her so that there was nowhere for her to look but at me.

“God, Monroe. Don’t apologize. Don’t apologize for being you. For being the most incredible girl I’ve ever met.” She was everything to me. “I love you.”

“Then kiss me,” she said softly, standing on her toes to reach me.

I kissed her for the longest time. Holding her softness against me as my head spun crazily and my heart tried like hell to keep up.

Things got heavy. They got wicked heavy.

We were on my bed. My T-shirt was on the floor.

Monroe felt so damn good, and when she rolled over on top of me, I was nearly out of my mind. Her long hair was all over the place, her pale skin smooth in the dim light. Her mouth was swollen from my kisses, her cheeks flushed and rosy.