Beautiful Surrender(2)
“A guy wanting to go dancing? I don’t know, I’m not a very good dancer.”
His full lips curved into a wicked grin. “Are you saying men can’t dance?”
“Isn’t that the stereotype?”
“Isn’t it also the stereotype that girls are good at dancing?”
“Touché.”
He put his arm out for me to grab and I took it gracefully. “Shall we?” he said.
I was surprised to find he wasn’t only smart and handsome, but also a good dancer.
We spent the evening with our bodies close to one another, laughing and working up a sweat. I tripped over my feet and stepped on his multiple times but he didn’t seem to mind. He helped show me how to do the basic moves and even convinced me to let him swing me around his waist.
It was the most fun I’d had in college to date.
***
“I’ve never done this before, Kristen. Have you?” His body was tense as he hovered over me on my bed in my dorm room. I had taken his shirt off and it was now lying on the floor where I’d thrown it. The surface of his sculpted torso was smooth and it was a major turn on to see it so up close. I’d been surprised to find he was amazingly fit for a nerdy teacher’s assistant. A regular routine of swimming and dancing will do that to the body.
His chest was heaving as he tried to control his breathing.
I smiled. “If you’re asking if I’m a virgin, I’d have to say no. I had a couple boyfriends in high school.”
“I see.” He averted his gaze from mine to look down at my chest, where he often liked to look. I didn’t mind. In fact, I liked the way it made me feel desirable. He was usually so confident and in control but now in this intimate moment, he was vulnerable.
“Is that a problem?”
“No. . . I just never had a girlfriend before you. I’m kind of nervous.”
I squinted my forehead.
“You look surprised.”
“I am. I thought you’d have an extensive dating history given how smart and gorgeous you are.”
He looked at me with those vivid blue eyes. “I don’t trust others easily. I usually don’t get too close to people.”
“You trust me?” I gently pulled off his glasses and placed them on the bedside stand. His eyes became radiant.
“I trust you, Kristen.”
“We’ll go slow Marty. We’ll take our time.” I pulled one dress strap off my shoulder. I took his hand and placed it on my breast, releasing a slow breath as I felt the warmth radiating from his skin.
His cheeks flushed. It was so adorable to see him this way. “Kristen, I—I think I . . .”
“What is it?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. You’re just so wonderful. The most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
I smiled. “Even more amazing than Gary Becker?”
“A hundred times more amazing.”
I tugged his brown hair and brought his lips down to mine. We made love that night for the first time.
***
Marty punched a fist-sized hole in the drywall of his apartment.
I was frightened. I’d seen small glimpses of his temper over the past few weeks—small outbursts over seemingly trivial things other people did—but I wasn’t too concerned. I attributed it to stress. He was a TA and had a heavy course load after all. But his reactions had never gone this far.
“Marty, calm down. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. How could he do that? Doesn’t he have a conscience?”
“You’re overreacting. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t see you coming so he accidentally opened the door and hit you in the face.”
He sighed and rubbed his nose, which was beginning to swell up. He sat down on the brown suede couch next to me with his head in his hands.
“Why do you get so upset?” I asked. “Have you been stressed lately?” I began stroking his back gently. It was as much to soothe him as it was to soothe myself. I was still shaken up by that punch.
“No, I’m fine,” he grumbled.
“Talk to me, Marty. You’re not telling me something.”
He didn’t answer for a moment, preferring to rub his temples to calm himself. “I’ve never told anybody about this . . . sometimes I just get really angry. My mom was a bit harsh on me when I was growing up.”
“What happened?”
He let out another long sigh. I could tell he was debating whether to say what was on his mind or not. “She was a drug addict.” The words lingered in the air for a moment. “Even when she was pregnant with me, she was snorting cocaine. She says she’s clean now but I know she still drinks a lot.”
My heart ached for him. I knew what it was like to have a bad relationship with your parents. How it affected your social skills and your ability to relate to other people. You couldn’t escape it no matter how far you ran. For me, moving from Texas to Massachusetts wasn’t far enough. I thought I had it bad but it sounded like Marty had it even worse.