“Don’t plan anything. I’ll pick you up at your house at three-thirty. Pack a change of clothes and tell your dad you’re spending the night at Ali’s.”
I’m instantly aroused and scared as hell. We’ve done a lot of making out, tons of heavy petting, but we haven’t had sex yet. I’ve wanted to, only Beck’s been the one to stop us from going further every single time. If we’re spending the night together, that can only mean one thing. “What are we doing?”
“It’s a surprise. God, I’ve missed you, babe.”
Well that’s your own damn fault, I think. “Okay. Three-thirty.”
A little before five, we’re pulling up outside a small, secluded cabin on the outskirts of Monroe, Michigan.
“Where are we?” I ask, looking around. There’s a tiny lake with a small forest-green rowboat attached to a weathered wooden dock. Evergreen trees line the horizon as far as the eye can see. I don’t notice another cabin or any other signs of human life besides us.
“My dad’s cabin,” he replies matter-of-factly. Turning off the engine, he opens his door. Before he gets out, he leans over and takes my mouth in a greedy kiss. Grabbing our duffels from the back, he exits. I guess that’s my cue to follow, so I do.
The place is as rustic on the inside as it is on the outside. Puke green must have been the decorating theme. It’s everywhere. The appliances, the pilled couch, and even one of the stucco walls carries the putrid color. The main area houses a small table and three chairs, a couch, and one armchair. No TV. I notice an open door to the left and from this angle I see it’s a bedroom.
My eyes wander, trying to glean any information about his family from the meager contents of the cabin, but it’s generic, functional. No pictures, no knickknacks, no personality. Just the basic necessities for a weekend fishing getaway.
“What are we doing here?” I finally ask, admiring the view out the front window.
He comes up behind me, wrapping me in his arms. “Whatever we want,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, before placing open-mouthed kisses along my exposed neck. Electric sparks ignite everywhere his body touches mine. You’d have to be ten shades of stupid not to get what he’s saying, especially as his hand travels up to cover my breast.
“Beck.” His name comes out on a breathless wave of desire.
Then his mouth is on mine and within minutes, our clothes are on the floor, we’re lying naked on the double bed, and he’s pushing into me slowly. The pain of my womanhood being breached is unlike anything I was prepared for, but Beck takes it slow.
“I tried not to fall in love with you, Alyse. Fuck, I tried,” he whispers against my neck as he pumps leisurely, taking the utmost care to attend to me. “I’m done fighting it. I love you. God, I love you so much.”
My heart races and soars at the same time. This is the first time he’s said those words. “I love you, too,” I reply. I’m breathless. I’m giddy. I’m high on teenage love.
He tells me repeatedly how much he loves me, that he can’t believe he found me, and that he wants to spend the rest of our lives together. My naïve eighteen-year-old self believes him.
As painful as it is to have sex the first time, I can’t imagine anything more perfect than that day. I was in love with Beck, it felt right, and I never regretted it. But even when he was inside me I remember the guilt because I wondered what it would have been like to have that moment with Asher instead.
I still remember every detail of that day like it was yesterday. We made love, we hiked, we fished in the tiny rowboat, not catching damn a thing. Then we made love again before we spent our first night together in each other’s arms. He was selfless and sensitive to my every need and regardless of the fact that I’d thought about Asher, it made me fall in love with Beck even more.
Beck was perfect in many ways, but he was also a complete enigma at the same time. I never felt like I knew someone so well but not at all. He was vague about his job, his family, his past. He would only say “it’s complicated.” I never even knew his parents’ names. All I really knew about him personally was that he was an only child. I didn’t even know what he did for work and he said he never went to college.
Whenever I’d ask a question about anything he didn’t want to talk about, he’d hedge or evade or distract me with his body.
I know what you’re thinking.
Stupid, naïve girl. And in retrospect, you’d be right. But I was blindly in love, so I overlooked things I shouldn’t have. I figured once we were married, he’d have no choice but to let me all the way in, so I let it go.