He stops after a while, glancing up at me with wide eyes as though to ask if I’m ready, and so I nod.
I couldn’t remember the way he moved and the way he felt until now. I couldn’t remember the way our hips rolled together. I couldn’t remember the way our breathing was never in sync, but rapid and uneven. I couldn’t remember any of those things until right now, now that it’s happening again. Only this time, Tyler’s not afraid to be rougher than I recall him being the first time. Alternating between rhythms, one hand squeezing mine and the other gripping my hip, his body sweats against mine. It takes my breath away and it’s so sensational that I think I might smile the entire time, even when I’m letting out soft moans. I can’t help it. It’s all just so . . . so Tyler. That’s the best part about it.
It feels so scandalous, so wrong, which only makes it all the more exhilarating. It’s a complete adrenaline rush. The worst thing is that I know it shouldn’t be happening. Not yet. Not while I’m still with Dean. Tyler, on the other hand, has accepted the fact that Dean’s going to get hurt at the end of this. He’s accepted the fact that we’re going to tell our parents the truth when we get home. I, however, haven’t quite. I like to believe that I have. I try to convince myself that I’m ready to tackle it all, to deal with everything straight on, but there’s still that panic and apprehension inside of me somewhere. I still feel guilty for loving Tyler. I still feel ashamed. It doesn’t feel fair.
I think we’ll forever be each other’s biggest secret.
19
I don’t call Dean at all the next week. I can’t bring myself to hear his voice. Every time he tries to call, I let it go to voicemail as I stare at the screen, gnawing at my lip and feeling like the worst human being to ever walk this earth. It’s not solely because of Saturday night, either. It’s also because of Sunday afternoon, and Tuesday morning, and last night.
Tyler and I had to a lot to catch up on. Two years’ worth. Each time both Snake and Emily were out of the apartment, we might have taken advantage of the privacy. So much advantage, in fact, that Tyler’s been making jokes about whether or not we should tell the two of them to avoid the couch on the left of the coffee table. He receives nothing but a glare from me each time he brings it up.
It’s not that we plan it or anything. It just keeps happening. I’m not complaining about it, either.
It’s the middle of the night when Tyler wakes me up. I’m completely bare, wrapped up in his comforter and feeling completely exhausted from the workout we shared only a few hours ago. I’m perfectly happy basking in the warmth of his sheets, but I force my eyes open anyway. Tyler’s standing by the side of the bed, hovering over me in the darkness, and I’m a little surprised to discover that he’s pulled on clothes, a pair of jeans and a navy hoodie.
“What time is it?” I groan, squeezing my eyes shut again and burying my face into the pillows. I can hear sirens outside, but that’s nothing unusual. New York never shuts the hell up. Ever.
“Three,” Tyler says quietly. I sense him shift away from me and I wonder if he might possibly be sleepwalking or something, but the second he starts tossing my clothes at me, I realize he’s not. “Get dressed.”
I roll back over and prop my body up on my elbows, squinting down at the clothes Tyler’s thrown at me. The exact same as his, jeans and a hoodie. He even tosses my bra over, and it promptly hits me in the face.
“Shit, sorry,” he says, but he’s holding back a laugh as he approaches me again. I only roll my eyes. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” I murmur wearily. Something about his tone makes me feel rather alarmed. Surprises are never good. It could be anything. And at 3AM? That’s even more worrying. Rubbing at my eyes, I sit up even further, and I don’t even bother to cover myself with the comforter. By now, it feels like Tyler sees me naked more often than he sees me in clothes.
He leans over to flick on one of the bedside lamps and as it lights up his face, I see that he’s smiling smugly. Bending down by the edge of the bed, his eyes are level with mine as his lips pull up into a wide grin, and he reaches into his pocket for something before holding it up in front of my face. It’s the keys to his car. “All yours.”
I part my lips, blinking in surprise. Being offered the chance to drive an Audi R8 in the middle of the night was the last thing I expected. I study the car keys and the Audi keyring shines in the light. Gently, I reach out to grasp them, a small smile growing on my lips. “Even though you don’t trust me?”