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Our first, first kiss was tender, and the second was filled with the unknown. We didn’t know what we could survive. But this kiss, we know where we’re going, and we’ll take our time getting there.
We both deserve a chance to savor each step.
“This is the last time I want to start over,” I say, breathless from the kiss. Butterfly wings flutter in my belly that no man but Dane has given me.
His long arms trap me in his embrace. “We should practice.”
“Good idea.” I jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, kissing him.
He laughs into my mouth. “I meant singing, but I am a man.” I feel his erection press against my center.
“The perfect man.”
“Only for you.” He puckers his plump lips, kissing me and letting it pop.
Chapter Forty-Six
DANE
Lettie: Good morning. Last day or first day of the year?
Me: Good morning. Last.
Lettie: What why? What about renewal and setting new goals?
Me: In basketball, it’s all about finishing strong.
Lettie: It’s a distant memory, but I vaguely remember you were a pro at finishing.
Me: One day, we’ll get there.
Lettie: I’m wearing out my pink rabbit.
Me: At least it’s not your hand. I won’t be able to hit a shot today. I had to switch to my non-shooting hand, and I’m not quite as smooth with that one.
Lettie: Stop. Now when you miss, I’ll think it’s my fault.
Me: I never miss.
Lettie: It’s going to be a memorable night. Go beat those birds.
Me: No doubt.
The sexual innuendos have increased over the past week, but when we’ve been able to spend time together, we’ve kept it PG. In promoting honest communication between us, I ask her if she’s getting frustrated.
“Frustrated isn’t the right word, Dane. I know I want to be intimate with you again, but there’s another side of me that’s enjoying the wait and anticipation. I love that we’re going to movies instead of staying in and watching them. I love that we’re making snowmen in the park. I enjoy cooking meals together. It’s a mix of Dane and Lettie as kids and as adults.”
I squeeze her arms, pulling her close to make sure she knows how much I want to be inside her again. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”
And it will be tonight. But for now, I need to catch the bus to the arena—it’s time for the biggest game of the season.
Lettie, her grandparents, and my mom wave their pom poms to the school song. There’s six seconds to go, and we’re down by one point. Although I’ve had a bad shooting night by my standards, Coach calls my number, a play designed for me to shoot. When we come out of the timeout, I adjust my shorts, something I do every time I come out on the court, call it a superstition or habit. My eyes find Lettie’s as the referee bounces the ball, with the whistle between his teeth. Lettie makes a shooting motion and gives me a slow wink, then cheers, “Go Stallions.”
The referee blows the whistle, handing the ball to Devon. The Cards defense is smothering, and I put a finger in the air. Devon throws it high above my head, I jump and tap it back to him, which draws the defense away from me. He passes it back. I dribble twice then pull up and shoot. It seems as if the ball is in slow motion before hitting the rim, bouncing up. In a flash, I think I’ve lost the game, but then it bounces on the right side of the rim and then the left before falling through the net.
My teammates surround me, jumping up and down, slapping my head and body as the crowd chants, “Greathouse.”
When the team breaks apart, I find my north star in the second row, but a reporter pulls me into an interview.
