“So? Are we in trouble?”
Sunny shook her head.
“Oh. Good.” He leaned in again and again she denied him by turning her head to the side.
“We’re not in trouble. But I’ve been banned from kissing you until we get back from New York. My mom doesn’t want me getting sick.”
“I’m not sick.”
“My mom’s a nurse, Mickey. She said you’re usually contagious before you ever have symptoms. It’s just a precaution. Don’t be mad.”
He sighed, flopping back on the couch. “Can we still hold hands?”
“Yes.” She giggled and it still sounded like an angel giggling—the most beautiful sound in the world.
He smiled, reaching for her hand. She moved it.
“But we have to wash our hands both before and after.”
He grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and went home. He lived by his father’s stupid rules: take out the trash twice a day, clean both bathrooms even if they’re not dirty, make your bed, do the dishes, and never let the old man run out of beer before setting a new one on the side table next to the chair he sat in when he wasn’t at work. With Sunny there had been no rules, until New York. Stupid New York.
*
The words “I love you” were shared on many occasions over the years, but they took on new meaning by the time they both turned sixteen.
Sunny was a straight-A student and a cheerleader for basketball and football. Mickey played point guard and quarterback. All the anger he carried inside from the constant abuse got released in the game. He showed no mercy. Coaches favored him. His opponents feared him. But Sunny loved him—truly, madly, deeply.
“Promise me we’ll get married as soon as we graduate.” He rested his head on her lap as they watched TV in her basement.
She feathered her fingers over his buzz-cut hair. “I want to go to college, Mickey.”
“Married people go to college.”
“What if we don’t go to the same college?”
“I’ll go wherever you get accepted.”
Her legs vibrated from her laughter. “You sound pretty confident that any college that accepts me will also accept you. Need I remind you I’m a straight-A student?”
He grabbed right above her knee and pinched it hard until she jumped with a squeal. “No. I think you remind me of that every day, smarty pants. Need I remind you that I have tons of scouts looking at me for both basketball and football? As long as I keep my grades up, I’ll have my choice of schools.”
“And you’re going to choose whatever school I go to?”
“Yep. I go where my wife goes.”
“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think my dad is going to give you his blessing to marry me before I even start college.”
“We’ll be adults. We won’t need anyone’s blessing.” He turned his head in her lap and inched her shirt up just enough to expose her bellybutton.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a breathy voice.
“Kissing you.”
“Kissing my belly?”
He nodded, softly kissing her bellybutton once before dipping his tongue into it.
She swallowed hard as her abs tightened.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Mickey …” she whispered in a weak protest as his hand inched up her shirt.
Touching her felt right, natural, and perfect. He’d loved her forever and he would never stop loving the angel he met over a decade earlier. There had never been anyone else and the only thing he was absolutely certain of in his sometimes-miserable life was that there would never be anyone else.
His thumb brushed over the thin material of her bra and his tongue continued to trace along her belly.
“We … we should … stop.”
His lips pulled into a smile against her soft skin. Her words were less than convincing as she arched her back into his touch.
He dipped his thumb under her bra, circling the pad of his thumb over her hardened nipple. Her full red lips parted as soft puffs of breath escaped. Their eyes locked.
“I want to put my lips where my thumb is.” His voice took on a deep, unfamiliar tone.
They’d kissed, hard and long with lots of tongue. He’d touched her breasts and butt on the outside of her clothes, but that’s as far as it had ever gone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d left her house without a raging hard-on. The shower had been his best friend. He jacked off then turned it to straight cold because that one release was never enough for his out-of-control hormones, but it was all he had time for before his father would threaten to knock the door off its hinges if he didn’t stop “wasting so much water.”
Sunny’s breaths chased one another. She swallowed again and nodded.
His mouth worked its way up to her bra. It was torturous. His dick was so hard, pulsing painfully against the confines of his jeans. But he wanted to take it slow with the girl that he loved more than anything or anyone else—the women he would someday marry.