Deanna Roy - Forever Innocent

She looked up at me, and I held out my hand. Her eyes shifted to it, waiting there for her to accept what I offered, hovering between us like an unspoken promise. Then she reached for it, closed her fingers around mine, and took that first tremulous step, out of her old world, and across the line into mine. 

I was pretty sure I’d never had a hot dog as good as this one.

Gavin laughed at me, mustard topping his upper lip like a mustache. He reached over with a yellow fingertip and traced my upper lip. I felt something cold left behind, and ran my hand over my mouth. It came back yellow. “You have not grown up one bit, Gavin Mays!”

We sat on the beach at La Jolla, surrounded by people soaking up the sun. Nobody was venturing into the water, due to the chill. My butt was covered in sand and the hot dog was gritty, but something about stepping over that line must have worked because I couldn’t stop laughing.

“You used to love it when I gave you a mustard mustache!” Gavin put on a goofy grin and rolled his eyes. “Mr. and Mrs. Mustardash!”

“When I was six!” I laughed and swiped his lip with a napkin, only succeeding in smearing it up to his nose. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“You can take me to Black’s Beach. We don’t have to wear anything but our ’stach.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

Heat rose up from my belly, and I knew I’d be taking him into my bed again that night. I vibrated with need for him and already lamented wasting a day with my angst and indecision. Just going with it was so much easier, so much more natural.

He misunderstood my silence, running his hand along my arm. “I would never push you on this, Corabelle. I can wait for you to come back to me.”

I stuck my hot dog back in the paper tray and crashed into him, knocking us both into the sand. I leaned over him, ignoring the stares of families around us. “I think I’m already done waiting.”

He lifted his head, his mouth perilously close to my lips. “Then what the hell are we doing on this beach?” he whispered.

We snatched up our trash and dumped it into the nearest bin. Sand kicked up from our feet as we hightailed it back to my car. “You better drive fast!” Gavin insisted as we backed out of the parking space.

“I might run over small children!” I shouted, then realized I’d just made a reference to kids without feeling horrible inside. Gavin was right. We could choose to let go of the stranglehold our past had on us.

I careened through town, flooring it between lights as we headed back to my apartment. “God, remember that time the police pulled me over just a block away from my house?” I asked.

Gavin laughed. “The one time I thought it would be clever and sexy to unbutton your pants in the car.”

My face burned just remembering. “I just knew he was going to ask me to get out, then my parents would come and see me both half-dressed and with the cops.”

“What had you done?”

“I think a taillight was out or something.”

“It certainly wasn’t speeding.”

I stomped on the gas. “You mean like this?”

He laughed. “You are one terrible driver.” His hand snaked over to my thigh. “I think it was something like this, right?” He unsnapped my jeans.

Sparks shot through my body, and I eased off the gas, unable to drive irrationally if I couldn’t focus on the road.

“Or was it more like this?” Gavin lowered the zipper and slid his thumb along the edge of my panties.

We came to a red light, and I was relieved, because I was afraid I’d start swerving if he did anything more. “Gavin, we’re going to have a wreck.”

“Then I better make the most of this traffic light.” His palm flattened against my belly, and he reached farther down.

Now I couldn’t think about anything but his fingers, slipping inside me, pressed tight inside the jeans. The light turned green and a car behind me honked. I jumped, startled, and Gavin chuckled. “I’ll be good,” he said, but he didn’t remove his hand, just kept it still.

I stayed off the freeway, taking side streets since I didn’t trust him not to distract me, even if he didn’t intend to. His hand was hot against my skin. When we got to the next light, he started up again, a gentle pulse in just the right spot. My breathing grew faster. I wished it was dark so we could simply pull over somewhere, but the midafternoon sun was merciless and bright.

When I hit the gas again, his hand stilled, but the ache was so fierce I couldn’t concentrate. “We’re closer to my place,” he said. “You can turn right here and it’s two streets down.”

I jerked the wheel and followed his directions to a set of aging apartments. I didn’t relax until I’d pulled into a spot and killed the engine. “Can we go in now?” I asked, my body trembling all over.

“Not just yet.” Gavin released his seat belt but left his hand in my pants. He couldn’t unbuckle mine without pulling out, so he left it but turned toward me, letting his free hand trace my collarbone. “I like it right here.”

I shut my eyes to the open windshield and let the movements of his fingers send cascades of pleasure through me. I felt completely wanton, spreading my knees as he found the perfect placement, spiraling me up into showering sparks.

“I want to hear you, Corabelle. Talk to me.”

We’d always had to be so quiet when he snuck in my window that when we finally got our own place, he always asked me to talk to him, to let him know what I was feeling with sounds.

I began with a whimper, the smallest noise. He began to work faster, deeper, and shifted his free hand down to my breast, tweaking the nipple. I forgot everything then, where we were, who might see, and my voice grew to an elongated “oh.”

“That’s my girl,” Gavin said, and now the second hand aided the first, spreading me more open, and his fingers worked that perfect pattern until I hit a peak.

“Gavin!” I cried, then kept it going, “Oh my God, Gavin Gavin Gavin Gavin.” I couldn’t take any more, everything was swollen and writhing and painful with need until finally I was over the top and clutching his hands, keeping them still as the orgasm crashed through me, long and rhythmic. I didn’t even know what sound I was making, just that it must have been loud, as Gavin covered my mouth with his, kissing me as I came down and back to reality.

We sat there a while, my hands on top of his, hiding my exposed belly as people passed by on the walkway through the complex. I closed my eyes again, not wanting to think about anybody knowing what we had done.

Gavin knew what I was thinking. “Nobody saw,” he whispered. “You were amazing.”

My mouth was dry. I swallowed and said, “I think you were the amazing one.” He had skills now, beyond what he had done to me when we were teens. I tried to push away the thought of the girls he might have practiced on, but realized too that my responses were different, and he might be wondering the same thing. And there had been no one.

Don’t let your past steal your future. It applied to both of us. Whoever they might have been or however many, they were the past. I was his future. He meant what he said, and he was willing to show it, to do whatever it took.

I opened my eyes, and Gavin was right there, looking at me with amusement. “You ready to face the world?” he asked.

I nodded. He withdrew from me and I buttoned back up. “I’m going to make you suffer for that,” I told him.

He kissed me quickly on the cheek. “I look forward to my punishment.”

We hustled from the car and he led me by the hand to where he lived. His home. I could look forward to another night in his arms, to revel in the company of someone who had known me as long as I’d been alive. 

When Corabelle took her seat down the row from me in the lecture hall, it was the farthest apart we’d been since yesterday. I could barely stand being ten feet away, but it was comforting to lean forward and be able to see her, knowing she would smile back at me.

Her friend watched us come in, obviously anxious to get to Corabelle and find out what had happened. I hoped she got every scintillating detail and felt bad for not helping me sooner, although I guess I had to thank her for giving Corabelle my number in the first place.

The professor droned on about supernovas, the rock stars of stars. The lecture was sort of interesting for once, and somewhat related to geology, so I should have been listening, but Corabelle was too close and the memories of yesterday too fresh. I’d followed her into the shower that morning, and just thinking about all the places the soap suds had gathered on her body made parts of me wake up.

Corabelle was trying to pay attention, hunched over her iPad and tapping wildly, but every time I glanced at her, she looked at me, and we were like two little kids with a big secret, grinning like fools. I could scarcely stand it, dying for class to be over just so I could touch her in some small way. Maybe we could rechristen the stairwell with a completely different sort of memory than what it held for us now.

Everyone started to get out of their seats, and I realized I hadn’t even noticed that the professor had stopped talking. I pushed past the students trying to walk in front of me and moved toward the middle of the row as Corabelle packed her bag. The pink girl headed straight for her too, eyes on me, and her brows shot up when I leaned down and kissed Corabelle on the forehead.

“So I guess you ended up not having any time to write me back all weekend.” She pouted, her bright lips matching her hair.