Happenstance 3 (Happenstance #3)(16)
Author: Jamie McGuire

It was such a cliché—the predictable sex on prom night—but I had already given him my virginity. During this flutter of time in our lives, there were so many firsts and lasts that it all seemed to blur together. Eighteen was all about existing only for the present because we didn’t know if the next time we opened our eyes would be the moment our youth was over. For that reason, we would break rules, make mistakes, intentionally take a wrong turn. We were living in the last days of vindication. One day, when we looked back on these pages, if it hurt to look, we could say we were just kids.

That was what I told myself when Weston lifted my shirt over my head. For a moment, I held my breath and tightly closed my eyes. My heart thundered in my chest, but I forced myself to be present, to no longer live my life with my head down.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes again was the pure adoration in Weston’s eyes. That look promised that no matter what happened between that moment and the rest of our lives, I would never forget the way I felt in this second of infinity.

“You’re so beautiful.” He stumbled over the words, so caught up in undressing me.

His touch was reverent, making me feel like his most precious possession in the world. After eighteen years of wanting to be free, all I could think about was belonging to the man pulling at me like he needed me to breathe. So many thoughts and emotions fought with each other inside my head, all leading toward the same desire.

I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say anyway. All I knew was that the night was ours, and he was mine.

Reaching out, I touched his chest and felt his exquisitely sculpted body flex underneath my palm. I wanted his shirt off, too. My fingers were clumsy as I fumbled with the buttons. As I unfastened each section, I kissed a line down his chest. Taking each side of the shirt in my hands, I tugged it down his arms, and Weston maneuvered them from the sleeves as he kept his eyes locked on mine.

He thought I was beautiful, but he was perfection.

“Lie back for me.” His request sounded almost like he was pleading.

Easing back onto the couch, my breath caught as he moved over me. The warmth of his body covered mine, causing my legs to tremble. If this were all that happened, it would be enough.

This is just the beginning though. With that thought, I shivered again.

Weston pressed a kiss to the side of my face, his warm breath tickling my ear. “Nothing in my life will ever be this damn sweet,” he said just before he let his weight press against me.

Chapter Seven

THE WEEK OF GRADUATION, the halls of Blackwell High were full of whispers speculating why Weston had attacked Brady during prom. Some said I had been cheating on Weston with Brady, some said Brady had tried to cut in and Weston had gone into a jealous rage, and some had actually gotten a bit closer to the truth.

Frankie had cleared my schedule at Dairy Queen until summer break, and because baseball was over, Weston had requested that we carpool to school for the week.

I heard his red Chevy grumbling from the street before I’d made it all the way down the stairs. I opened the door to see him jogging to the front steps, and he playfully tackled me to the hardwood floor in the foyer.

“What on earth?” Julianne said with a giggle, looking down on us.

Bending over at the waist, Weston was shaking with laughter, his feet on each side of me, as he held on to my upper arms. “I didn’t mean to knock you over!” he said. He lifted me to my feet and then pecked my cheek, still chuckling.

“Good morning to you, too,” I said, leaning into his kiss.

Julianne watched us for a moment, feigning disapproval. “C’mon. Biscuits and gravy in the kitchen.”

“Yes!” Weston said, dragging me down the hall.

His mood had been all over the place since prom. The night before, on the phone, he had been quiet and a little sullen when we talked about the fall semester. Now, he was nearly manic.

Julianne cut two biscuits for Weston and me and then doused them in gravy. When she set the plates in front of us, Weston dug in.

Julianne crossed her arms over her chest. “Remember, if Brady—”

“He’s not going to say anything to her,” Weston said with a mouthful. “Don’t worry.”

Julianne frowned. “I’m worried about you, too. You’re lucky you’re not getting suspended.”

Weston scooped another large bite into his mouth. “They can’t suspend me if they’re not suspending Brady, and Brett and Lynn wouldn’t let that go down, so I’m safe.”

“So,” Julianne said, leaning against the counter beside the stove, “if he starts anything, you’ll shut him down, right?”

“Right,” Weston said with a nod.

“And not by escalating the situation?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded again.

“I’m really okay,” I began.

“I’m at her locker between classes,” Weston said.

“What about the classes she has with Brady? Or his friends?” Julianne asked.

“I’m here,” I said a little louder than I’d intended.

Julianne covered her mouth. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been doing this for a long time,” I said. “It’s not my first rodeo. I can handle Brady. I don’t need anyone shutting him down.”

Julianne took a step. “I’m just…we’re so close to the end. I want this week to be all good memories for you.”

“Thank you.” I took a breath. “But you can’t keep me safe all the time. You can’t ensure that bad things won’t happen. I’m better equipped to handle Brady and anyone like him anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to deal with him, especially not this week,” Weston said.

“I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me,” I said, my tone too sharp.

“You don’t need anyone at all,” Weston said, pushing his nearly empty plate toward Julianne. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“You’re welcome,” she said.

“I’ll be in the truck,” he mumbled before leaving us alone in the kitchen.

I shook my head.

“Is everything okay?” Julianne asked.

“He was upset last night and hyper this morning. Now, he’s upset again. I can’t keep up.”

“It’s tough,” she said.

I could tell she was purposefully avoiding a true response.

“What am I missing?” I asked.