Reclaiming the Sand

“You’ve never what?” I asked him.

“Had sex,” he said shortly, his voice, typically so flat and unemotional held a depth of feeling that made me dizzy.

Clearly we were on the same page and I hadn’t realized it. I had thought I was alone with my overwhelming urges but obviously Fly

It wasn’t a shock that he was a virgin. Hell, he hadn’t kissed anyone until a few months ago. But I was scared to be his first. That was a huge responsibility. What if I wasn’t gentle enough? What if he hated it? What if I messed up so badly he never wanted to have sex again?

Oh god, that was a horrible thought.

And that was a lot of pressure for a girl like me to handle. Staring down at his downturned head, I knew he wanted this experience with me. We were sharing so many firsts together. First walk in the sand, first kiss, first love.

This was just one more first to add to the ever growing list.

I wanted to touch him. I wanted to take his hand and make this awkwardness go away. I wanted to make this easier for him. For me too. Because I was a nervous wreck.

I cleared my throat, my mouth dry. “It’s okay,” I began, not wanting to push him, but Fly

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I won’t be good. You’ll hate it,” he muttered and I watched in disappointment as he started to rub his hands together.

He was upset. He was close to hitting or throwing something. The tension rolled off him in waves like the ones crashing on the beach.

“Stop it,” I said a little more tersely than I meant to. I reached out and stopped myself before grabbing a hold of his hands.

His obvious discomfort was exacerbating my own nerves.

I wasn’t the virgin in the room. So why was I the one shaking like a girl on prom night?

Because Fly

Because with him there was no one else.

He was still rubbing his hands. He would rub his skin raw with the ferocity.

“I can’t do this, Ellie. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Fly

I needed him here with me. Not locked inside his head.

My unreasonable anger was rearing its nasty head and I had to work hard to tamp it down.

“Can I touch you, Fly

Fly

This time I didn’t ask him. I told him what I was going to do.

“I’m going to touch you, Fly

I had tried sweet and gentle. Now it was time to be Ellie McCallum. And Ellie McCallum took over.

I grabbed one of his hands and covered it with mine. I laced my fingers through his, pressing my palm into the back of his hand.

Fly

I rubbed his hand with my thumb. Slow, purposeful movements repeated over and over again. I forced my own tension to subside. I relaxed my shoulders and made my entire body loosen up. Loose as a goose, Ellie, I said to myself.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Fly

Fly

There were never two people more ill suited for a relationship than us. We were all wrong. We didn’t have a chance.

And that made me want to fight for it even harder.

Being with Fly

Fly

He motivated me to move forward. And I would do right by him.

By us.

How had this man that I had blamed so long for all the bad in my life become something integral? Something essential?

We both wanted to leave our pasts. We had carried on with our lives hoping the pain was over.

But the pain had also brought me him.

And I loved the pain.

I’d never let it go.

“We can just be here…together,” I said quietly, lightly squeezing our joined hands.

Fly

“I want to, Ellie. I want to touch you. I want to feel you. I want to know what it’s like to be naked with you,” he said simply, speaking in his short, halting way.

I swallowed thickly. “Okay,” I squeaked out. And that buzzing in my body that I had drowned out in my ice cold shower, blazed to life again.

Fly

“Can I touch you?” he asked. My eyes widened marginally.

He never asked me that. I felt our roles suddenly reversing. It was u

I nodded, stilling as he lifted his hand and slowly, carefully placed his fingers on the side of my neck. I tried not to squirm.

He stared at my face, as though to make sure he was doing was okay. I didn’t move. I bit down on my lip as his palm pressed into my skin, his fingers curling up into the heavy layers of my hair.

“I like your hair when it’s normal. I hated all the colors,” he said. I smiled, knowing all too well how much he hated it when I used to dye it in high school.

“Keep it like this,” he demanded, sounding almost angry.

He pulled his other hand out from underneath mine and ran a finger along the seam of my lips. I wanted to close my eyes; the light brushes of his fingers almost my undoing.

But I couldn’t stop watching him as he explored my skin. So gently. And with such heart melting resolve.

“I won’t change it, I promise,” I told him.

Fly

“You’re so beautiful,” he said firmly, as though I would argue with him. How could I argue with him when he said it with absolute conviction?

And then his mouth was on mine and I had barely any time to register what was happening before he pulled away again, just like he had done on the beach. He was panting, his cheeks red. He dropped his hands from the side of my neck and looked down into his lap again.

What the hell had just happened?

“It’s okay,” I told him. Kissing Fly

The one he had just planted on my mouth was bruising and harsh and extremely conflicted.

Fly

His hands trembled beneath my lips.

“It’s okay,” I told him again.

He nodded and I put his palms to my face. With his head still bent low, he cupped my cheeks.

“It’s not okay. I want to touch you. It just feels…strange,” he said, frowning.

“We can take it slow. We don’t have to do this right now. We have all the time in the world to be together, Fly