Rather than respond or follow up with more questions, she tucked her chin close to her chest and clung to me even more, as if I were a life preserver and she couldn’t swim. It was the same way she had held onto me that night, right before we both finally fell asleep. It was the last time I’d felt her arms around me like this, and I never wanted this moment to end.
But I knew it had to.
I secured her to me as if on instinct. “I know you don’t feel well and you should be sleeping, but if you want to talk—about that night or anything else—I’ll answer everything I can. You deserve to have all your questions answered.”
“I’m not sure what to say, Holden. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.” The heat from her shaky words wafted across my bare chest. “My stomach is in knots, like I could throw up at any second, but I don’t understand why. I’m angry, yet I have no right to be. I’m upset…for no reason. I have no idea what you want me to say.”
I curled my fingers beneath her chin and lifted it, forcing her to look at me. “You have every right to be angry and upset. That’s how I’ve felt about myself since it happened—well, since the next morning. I hate that we slept together after you had so much to drink. I swear, Janelle…had I known, I never would’ve touched you. I never would’ve taken you to that chapel.”
Her eyes closed and a sigh escaped through her parted lips. She seemed so sad, and I wanted nothing more than to make her smile again. It was as though I needed her happiness to keep going.
“Well, that’s not entirely true. Had I known how drunk you were, I would’ve made you drink a shit-ton of water and coffee and force-fed you until you were sober enough to truly make up your mind. Then I would’ve hauled you off, over my shoulder, to the chapel, and then taken you back to the room to have my way with you. And you better believe it would’ve continued the next morning, too.”
Even though the corner of her mouth didn’t move, I could tell by the way she relaxed into me that she already felt better. “Was it good? I mean…” She didn’t finish her question, but I didn’t exactly need her to in order to know what she meant.
“You didn’t hold onto your virginity for nothing, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Did it hurt? Me, I mean. God, I hope it didn’t hurt you. If it did, I’m glad I can’t remember.”
I was happy to see some of her humor return, especially in the middle of such a serious conversation. “You cried, not much, but there were tears. At one point, I stopped because I thought you were in pain. I thought you were crying because I had hurt you. But you kissed me and told me you had never felt better.” I closed my eyes and recalled exactly what she had said that night. I had replayed her words so many times I knew them by heart. This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I wasn’t sure anyone would ever live up to it. But you, Holden, you have; you’re everything.
“Did…did you like it?” The fever had to be the cause of her insecurity, because I’d never known her to be this way. Still, I didn’t let it stop me from telling her the absolute truth, needing her to never doubt herself again—whether it be with me or someone else.
“Hell yeah, I did. Best sex of my life.”
Her shoulders shook with her muted laughter. I could tell she thought I meant it as a joke, but I decided against arguing with her or going out of my way to convince her of it right now. I would at a later time, when she was no longer delirious with a fever.
“Tell me a story,” she begged in a sleepy whisper.
“What kind?”
“A fairy tale. But no Prince Charming. I want one about a knight.”
“In shining armor?” I teased.
“No. No castles, no royalty, no white horses or shining armor.”
“Then what kind of knight are you talking about?”
“The dark one.”
I thought to myself for a moment before asking, “Batman? You want me to tell you a fairy tale about Batman?” Instead of speaking, she simply nodded against my chest. “To give you that, it’ll take more than one day.”
“Then break it up and tell me more each day until I get better.”
The thought of being by her side until she got better made me almost want her to never get better. Except, I hated to see her sick. Just knowing she wanted me here made me want to never leave. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, rested my cheek against her hair, and stroked her back as I began to tell her the best and worst fairy tale ever told.
“Once upon a time, there was an eighteen-year-old with a broken heart who’d locked herself in a room in a really high building. With her, she had twenty tiny bottles of…magic potion. She believed they would take her problems away, so she twisted the top off one and poured the entire thing down her throat. But after a few minutes, she didn’t feel any different, so she opened another…and another…and another, until they were all gone. Little did she know, her very handsome—no, sexy—hero was on his way upstairs.”
“This sounds familiar,” she mumbled against my chest.
I shushed her and held her tighter. “Just listen. No interrupting…”
* * *
The elevator seemed to take forever, so the strong and handsome and amazing hero raced up the stairs, two at a time, on his way to the girl with the broken heart. As soon as he got there, he realized she needed him, more than she’d ever needed anyone.
She gripped the front of his shirt to keep from falling over. Her knees had gone weak, and she kept repeating, “Thank God you’re here.”
It didn’t take long, but he finally calmed her down enough to be able to escort her from the room. They frantically ran outside, hand in hand, and everywhere she looked, there were lights. Bright lights of all different colors and shapes, blinking and flashing, as if beckoning them to follow. It was the most remarkable sight either of them had ever witnessed. But they’d been warned that it wouldn’t last forever. They had limited time to uncover the secret world they sought, for as soon as the sun’s first light peeked over the horizon, it would all vanish.
They had heard tales of dancing ribbons of water and an entire city locked within stone. Of men with sticks for legs and beautiful women scantily clad in breathtaking costumes. They wanted to leave no pebble unturned, so they quickly began their race against the clock, their sprint against time.
It was an adventure that started off at Treasure Island, just in time to see the Sirens of TI pirate show, complete with lights, music, and fire that burst clear up to the sky. The two young tourists watched with wide eyes as excitement filled them. It was certainly something at least one of them would never forget.