Chapter Nine
~ Mars ~
I had to be dreaming. Propped against our bags and the cooler, Reba and I cuddled together and watched the sunset on the distant horizon over the lake, turning the water varying shades of gold and orange. I wanted to kiss her again, to roll her under me on the blanket, but I just held her, instead. We didn’t need to rush then burn out in a flash. Some might not consider it manly, but I wanted an emotional connection, not just something physical.
My hand drifted up and down her arm. I couldn’t believe I could finally touch her and feel her soft, silky skin under my fingers. She shivered, and I grabbed a hoodie that had been in my bag and draped it over her.
“Hmm,” she hummed, cuddling closer. “You’re a good guy, Marshall Kennedy.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
She nuzzled her nose into my chest, snuggling, and I imagined doing this everyday for, well, forever.
“Can I ask you something?” she murmured. “It’s personal.”
I licked my lips, dreading what she’d ask.
“Yeah…” I replied, not quite masking my hesitation.
Balancing on one hand, she levered herself up, cupped my cheek and brushed her lips over mine. “It’s not a terrible question,” she murmured, before returning to her former position against my chest.
“Okay, hit me.”
“I’d never hit you. Ever.” The vehemence in her tone resonated with militancy and judgment on people who weren’t allowed to intrude on this moment.
“Just a figure of speech, Sunshine,” I said, kissing the top of her head where her hair had dried into a disarrayed halo.
“I know, but I don’t like it.” She huffed. “Anyway…as much as I hate reminding you, um… I’m a lot older than you.”
“I don’t know that I’d say a lot.”
“Point of view,” she argued. “The thing is, I have…experience. And you’re eighteen and don’t date as far as I know. I was just…” She bit her lip, wincing while she tried to go on.
“Wondering if I’m a virgin?” I supplied, putting her out of her misery.
I felt her swallow hard. “Yes.”
“I’m not. Yeah, I haven’t dated in a long time, but before… Let’s just say, I had something to prove. At the time, I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have at my age.”
“Oh.”
It was a small sound but I could hear the shock and questions in it. I wouldn’t be answering them or explaining myself. Not now. Maybe not ever. Those were things I buried down deep, ashamed of the memories.
“Does that make you want to run away?” I couldn’t help asking.
“No…” she replied, drawing out the word. “But now, I don’t feel quite as much like a cradle robber, though.”
“Baby, I left the cradle a long time ago. No robbing is happening.”
“Right.”
She didn’t say anything after that, and I wondered what it meant. Was she glad? Disappointed? Sad the challenge wasn’t there? No, the last thought definitely didn’t apply to Reba. She wouldn’t be like that. She wasn’t out for a notch in her bedpost. God knew I’d had to chase her long enough.
“Will you go out with me again?” I asked.
“I… You’re leaving soon. I don’t know if it’s a great idea.” Her face had shut down, closing to me, and I’d failed to notice.
What the hell? How had we gone from comparing experience to her shying away?