Stalk Me

I pull his shirt up over his head and pepper his chest with teeny kisses.

He falls back onto the bed, pulling me on top of him.

I half laugh, half scream, but keep kissing his chest. I want to kiss every bit of it.

I work my way down to his abs. Run my fingers across them. Kiss them.

Then I unbutton his shorts. He quickly kicks them off, then flips me over so that he’s lying on top of me.

He kisses down my neck and runs his hands all over my body. Then he reaches behind me, undoes my bra, and kisses across my chest. I really don’t know how much more I can take. I move one of my boobs closer to his mouth, and when he finally complies, I let out a little gasp.

Screw savoring it.

I shove my hand between his legs and roughly rub the front of his boxers. He starts breathing a little more heavy, but doesn’t stop going slow.

He kisses down my stomach, stopping only to unbutton my shorts and slide them off, my panties coming off along with them. Then he kisses the rest of me.

My stomach.

Down my legs.

The insides of my thighs.

Which about drives me insane.

He even kisses the tops of my feet, the tips of my toes, then, finally, he stops going so incredibly wonderfully excruciatingly slow.

He kisses fast up my legs and slides his finger into me.

I pull him to my lips, run my fingers wildly through his hair, and kiss him frantically while I push his boxers off with my feet.

He stops for a second to roll on a condom and then . . . finally.

Thursday, June 30th

Come and find you.

9am

I wake up to Brooklyn ru

He smiles at me and says, “Last night was incredible. I'll never forget you, forget this perfect night.”

“Is that more Keats?” I tease.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. While you were gone, I was drowning myself in Keats poetry. I think I memorized half of what he wrote.”

“And I’ve been drowning myself in bad decisions. It’s a good thing you showed up.”

He laughs. “I’d say I showed up last night.”

“That you did. It’s true what they say. About it being better when you’re in love.”

“I do love you, Keats. I have for a while. I just wasn’t sure what to do about it. You were with Sander. Damian told me I should just come out and tell you. He thought you’d break up with Sander if I did. I didn’t want that. Didn’t want to be the cause of a breakup. I was so damn happy that night on the beach. You looked so beautiful in your dress. It took everything I had not to tell you then. To only kiss you on the cheek.”

“You told me I was desirable.”

He grins and kisses me. “You are, obviously,” he says as he rolls on top of me.

Brooklyn orders us breakfast, and we snuggle up in bed while we wait for it.

“So what do you think of France so far?” I ask him.

“It’s great. I miss home though. I miss our beach.”

“I’ve been thinking about not going home. About living here. Or traveling the world.”

“You kinda need to finish school first, don't you think?”

“I’ll do it like you did. Like, online or something. I don't want to go back home.”

“You can’t run away from your problems, Keats, because eventually they’ll come and find you.”

“Sure you can, and you should. I'm happy here. My problems aren’t here. Life is perfect.”

“Would you be happy if I wasn't here?”

“Not as happy.”

“Damian told me why you didn't want to come home. About your friends.”

“I feel like I made a deal with the devil. I grew up on movie sets. I've always scripted versions of my life. Like how I thought it should happen. What I wanted to happen. I even wrote scenes where you told me you loved me. When you told me you loved me, it was nothing like the script. We were supposed to be on the beach in the moonlight. I always looked perfect and glamorous. In real life, I was crying when you said it. Life has not been following my scripts.”

“Life is messy. Like that quote we like.” He points to the necklace I had made for him last Christmas. The corded necklace has a charm of the Chinese symbol for chaos. “Life is divine chaos. It’s messy, and it’s supposed to be that way.”

I nuzzle my face into the side of his neck. “This doesn't feel like chaos.”

“But it is. Particles are colliding all around us.” He grins at me. “What about when our lips collide?”

I grin back. “I like when our lips collide. I liked when we collided.”

“Me too. Wa

“Oh, I’m all for more chaos.”

“I love you, Keats.”

I reach under the covers. “I love your chaos.”

Breakfast is delivered too quickly for me to enjoy his chaos again.

I’m munching on a wonderfully flakey croissant when he says, “Damian told me about the girl too. How you think you ruined her life. You didn't. Life is all about karma. She did something not only mean but dangerous to your friend. She got bad karma back. She deserved it.”

“But what about Cush? Did he deserve it? He's a nice guy. He was really sweet to me.”

“You didn't do it to be mean.”

“No, but he still blamed me for it.”

“You weren’t even there, Keats. It wasn’t your fault. And karma is all about your intentions. Are they good or bad? If they are bad, you'll get bad back. Besides, you can't run away from karma. You need to be with your family. You need to finish school. We’re going back home as pla

“I guess I do have to go back for my birthday. Mom and Kym pla

“What big party?”

“Oh, I guess I wasn’t talking to you then. They decided I should have a big bash for my seventeenth birthday. They’re renting out a club. Inviting most of my school. Pretty much everyone we know. I’m actually really excited for it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sounds fun.”

“Hey, you're the one that wants me to get back to reality.”

“Let’s forget about reality for the rest of today.”

We spend the entire day in bed. We nap, kiss, make love. He recites more poetry, and we talk about our futures. And then we decide that since our near future involves traveling to the beach, and we haven’t made any hotel reservations, that we should probably do so.

“I’m go

“Okay. I'm go

I can’t wait. We’re having a candlelit di

I call Mom. When she answers, I say, “Hey!”

“Wow. You already sound more mature. I feel like I haven't talked to you in years.”

“It’s only been a week, Mom.”

I hear Tommy talking in the background.

“Tommy says to tell you we all miss you. So how are things?” she asks in an odd, high voice.

“You seem really happy, Mom. Are you pregnant?”

She laughs. “No, I'm not. So you and Brook have been together in France for a while. So has he told you he loves you? Have you slept with him?”

“Mom.”

“Keatyn, I can tell by your voice the answer to both of those questions is yes.”

“Last night was the first time. How do you even know that?”

“Well you called me instead of texting me, so I know something’s going on. Plus, I can hear it in your voice.”