My Paper Heart (18 page)

Read My Paper Heart Online

Authors: Magan Vernon

BOOK: My Paper Heart
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"No." I bit my lip. "But…um do you…you know have something?  You know a wrap it before you tap it?'' I was naked on my boyfriend's bed, yet still couldn't say the word.

He smiled brightly. "You mean a condom, Libby?"

"Yeah." I could feel the blood rise up in my cheeks.

He just smiled not saying a word, and leaned over to his night stand, pulling out a golden wrapped condom. Slowly he slid off his boxers and tossed them to the floor. Then he opened the wrapper, but stopped before putting it on.

"Do you want to do it?" He held the condom up.

"Ew!" I scrunched my face.

"Really Libby?" He cocked an eyebrow.

I sighed. "Blaine, please just do me already."

 

He took it slow, none of the high paced two pump chump that Beau was notorious for. Even though I wasn't that experienced, I would have to say he was really good. He actually cared about me finishing more than himself. Whispering over and over
you're beautiful
. Even up until the moment we both reached the climactic end, his eyes never left mine.

We just laid there for awhile, him on his back, and me with my head on his chest and his hand running through my hair.

"I hope that was better than it would have been in Jackson's waterbed." He smiled, looking down at me.

"Hmmm." I propped myself up onto my stomach, still lying on his chest. "Let's see, us alone in your house on satin sheets." I traced my fingers down his abs. "Or on Jackson's Spiderman sheets, with probably half the Parrish listening in on us."

"I know." He took in a big sarcastic sigh. "Tough call."

I smiled and leaned in and kissed him again, which if there are two people naked in bed together, a kiss always leads to something more. Which it did. Twice.

 

Chapter 19

 

Once Blaine and I started, it was like it never ended. Soon we couldn't get enough of each other. And once we got the romantic sex out of the way it seemed like it was okay to do it anywhere. On our lunch hour, running to his parent's, in his truck, in the stairwell. The one place I refused to do it was outside. There were a lot of animals in the swamp.

"Come on, it's not like something is going to come out of the swamp and attack us." He would beg.

"But it could." I would argue.

And that would be the end of it, and we would have to drive like hell to get to his house to have a quickie, before our lunch break was over.

Since Blaine had fully committed to going to Kristi's wedding, I convinced him that he had to get a new suit. After a lot of pleading, on my part, and whining, on his part, I finally convinced him to drive to New Orleans on a Saturday and go suit shopping.

"So this means I get two blow jobs at my beck and call, one time of sex whenever and wherever, and you have to cook me dinner." He counted off on his hand as we drove down the highway to New Orleans.

"Except." I put down his fingers, leaning over the seat of his truck. "No outside sex and dinner can be from a box."

He exhaled deeply. "Okay, but you have to make dessert then!"

I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Deal."

I would have loved to take him to a tailor and to get a nice suit made, but that definitely wasn't Blaine's thing. In fact the nicest outfit Blaine even owned was the one he wore on our first date, and he confessed that was his usual funeral or wedding outfit. I didn't think that was going to fly in the Chicago suburbs.

Blaine grew up knowing most of his graduating class, about one hundred of them, but since I wasn't an athlete or a popular girl, I just seemed to fade into the crowd. Another big part of that was the fact that my graduating class had over one thousand students. Blaine didn't seem to understand that concept, or how my high school was bigger than the size of the whole town of Elsbury. This made me a little weary of taking him back home, not only was I from a large suburb, but also a rich one. In fact, my Prada bag, a graduation gift, some girls in my class received new cars, so my bag looked minimal.

But at least I didn't keep many of my friends from high school. There wasn't really too many anyways, a few girls I talked to in band, but once I went to college it was like a fresh start. I wasn't Big Bird anymore, I was actually noticed in a crowd, and it wasn't just for my height.

So at last, after Blaine gave in, and driving around for what seemed like hours, we ended up finding a mall in New Orleans. We decided to just head into a department store to find him a suit off of the rack.

"Can I get an orange suit?" He looked at me with pleading eyes while we walked hand in hand through the store.

"Well if my dress is yellow, don't you think that will clash?" I squeezed his hand.

"So we'll look like a 1970's patio set. I don't see the problem." He laughed.

Finally we made it over to the men's suits, where an overly flamboyant, short man with black spiky hair and a purple button-down shirt greeted us.

"Hey y'all, is there anything I can help you with?" He practically pranced over to us, clasping his hands.

"OH MY GOD!" He put his hands on the side of his face.

Blaine and I looked around to see what was wrong.

The salesman then pointed at my bag. "Is that a real Prada bag?"

"Um." I bit my lip looking down at the bag. Blaine covered his mouth trying to keep from laughing. Now if there was one thing I knew about Blaine, it was that even though he was a southern gentleman who liked to open doors and cared about if I climaxed, he was all in all a road worker, a man's man. Needless to say, he was not pleased with our salesman's love of my purse.

"Yeah, it is." I looked up at the clerk, who then turned his attention back to Blaine.

"Oh honey, you bagged yourself a good one here!" He practically squealed.

"Um, yeah." He put his arm around me flexing as he did to basically say,
Yes I'm straight and I work for the road crew, me big, scary man grrr
.

"Well now, what can I do for you two today?  Do you need any help with anything?  I am at your service." He curtsied.

"You see, Mister—" I squinted looking at his name tag. "Robbie." I let go of Blaine's hand and pointed both hands toward him. "My boyfriend here, Blaine, really needs a new suit for my sorority sister's wedding in August."

"Hmm." Robbie circled Blaine, tapping his fingers on his chin.

Blaine looked down at me with pleading eyes. I let go of his hand and edged him toward Robbie.

"It's in the Chicago suburbs." I continued. "They'll be getting married on a beach at a resort up in Chicago. My dress is a butter cream color, so make my man look pretty!" I patted Blaine on the back.

Blaine glanced back at me and mouthed,
you owe me
.

I laughed as Robbie took him by the arm. "I think I know just what we are going to do with you. Now come with me."

I tried to cover my giggles as Robbie pulled Blaine over to a big three-way mirror and started measuring him. Blaine especially got nervous when Robbie had to measure his inseam.

But Blaine was a good sport through it all, and took all my laughs and Robbie constantly walking into the dressing room to hand him clothes… no matter if Blaine was decent or not.

Finally after trying on about thirty different outfits, Blaine strolled out of the dressing room in a plain black suit. He wasn't exactly smiling when he came out, but I didn't think he could have looked any better. Robbie paired the suit with a plain white shirt and a tie that almost matched the color of the bridesmaid dress. Don't ask me how Robbie was able to match it so perfectly.

The suit fit Blaine in all of the right places, nothing tight or loose, he looked so good I kind of wanted to jump him right there in the middle of the department store. I'm sure that would have actually made his day. He didn't even blink an eye at the price of the suit, which for him was probably quite a lot of money.

"Thanks for doing this for me baby." I smiled, grabbing his free hand with mine.

"Naw, no problem. It was kind of fun, in a weird, awkward, there-was-definitely-a-gay-guy-checking-me-out-the-entire-time, kind of way." He smiled, leaning down to kiss me.

 


 

That night I made good on my promise and let Aunt Dee try and help me cook. I think she almost jumped out of her moccasins when I asked if I could help her cook dinner.

"Why honey, I'd be honored!"

Blaine said he would be willing to miss his mom's cooking to try mine, but I could tell he was a little leery of it. He knew that my greatest masterpiece had been to make rice crispy treats, and even that I had messed up a couple times.

"Okay, what do I make?" I twirled my hair.

I was standing in the kitchen, my feet barefoot, and Aunt Dee standing in front of me. She was still a little sweaty from working at the shop all day and I hoped she planned to wash up before cooking.

"Well." Aunt Dee headed over to a cabinet and pulled out one of her cookbooks. "What's Blaine's favorite food?"

I thought for a moment, tapping my fingers on my chin. "Probably burgers and curly fries from Sam's."

Aunt Dee snorted. "Well I don't think that's something we can cook. How about gumbo?"

I shrugged. "Works for me."

So we spent the next hour laughing and cooking gumbo. I made a lot of mistakes and learned the proper way to chop vegetables. My mom and I never cooked together. I couldn't even remember making Christmas cookies or coloring Easter eggs as a child. Instead we went shopping. I never realized until that moment how much of a bonding affect it can have between people. Aunt Dee told me about the first time she cooked with her mom and even reminisced about cooking with Joni and Britt.

If someone would have told me a couple of months ago, that I would have cooked a meal for four people and they actually enjoyed it, I probably wouldn't have believed it. But I had. I had done something that people didn't question or laugh at me for.

When Blaine left that night he was still holding his stomach, saying how full he was after three helpings of my gumbo.

"Baby, I think there is hope for you being my southern belle after all." He leaned in meeting my gaze.

"I think I've still got some more to learn, but I'm willing to try." I wrapped my arms around him, sliding my body against his.

 

Lord help me, I was falling in love with the south. And even more, I was falling in love with a southern boy.

 

Chapter 20

 

After a week of playing over everything in my head, I realized that I was completely falling head over heels in love with Blaine. Which that wasn't the problem. The problem was actually telling him that.

It wasn't that I didn't have plenty of opportunities. We were still pretty much inseparable. It was just every time I would think it would be the perfect time to say it, I would choke up.

We would be laying together, him running his fingers through my hair, and a love song playing on the radio. I could say I
love
this song or I
love
root beer floats, but never the crucial I love you.

It wasn't like he ever said it either. He had just as much opportunity to say it as I did. Which is why I was kind of getting cold feet about saying it myself. He could give up smoking for me, and take the time off work to go back to my parent's with me, but he couldn't make the effort to say those three little words.

"Maybe he is scared for the same reasons you are."

Kristi seemed to be the only person I could talk to about this; she may have been scrambling with last minute wedding details. She may have been completely into herself, but she was the only person I knew I could talk to about it.

It wasn't like Britt had ever been in love or had a boyfriend, and I was sure that she wouldn't care to hear that I was in love with Blaine. And Aunt Dee, well that just wasn't something you talked about with your great-aunt.

There was my mom, but I didn't think that was a conversation to have with her either. She and my dad already didn't seem too thrilled I was bringing a boy home with me for Kristi's wedding. I didn't know if they were just so reluctant because of the last boy I brought home, Beau, or if they were just afraid I wasn't learning whatever lesson I was supposed to be learning in Louisiana.

And my real sister, Beth, well let's just say it would be less awkward talking to Aunt Dee than her.

So Kristi was my best choice. She was in love with Gabe and was getting married, so she had to have some good advice.

"What if he's not scared and actually secretly just hates me? And if I tell him I love him instead he'll just say that he hates me?" I pressed.

I was sitting alone in my room. It was that little stretch of time after dinner and before Blaine came, over when I could be alone. I had my door shut and was sitting on the floor, almost whispering so Aunt Dee and Britt couldn't hear me from the living room.

"Libby." She sighed. "I don't think any boy would quit smoking, and be willing to fly to Chicago for a wedding of someone he doesn't even know, if he hated you."

"Well how did you know the right time to say it to Gabe?" I pursued, lying down on the floor.

"Well." I could literally hear her thinking. There were a lot of
hmmms
and
ummms
. "Gawd you know that was a long time ago, Libby. We've been together since freshman rush."

"That doesn't make me feel any better." I quipped, staring at my fingernails.

Kristi groaned. "Look Libby. If it is love, you'll just know the right time to say it. And even if it takes you years to say, if you know you love him, you don't have to broadcast the words to the world to let everyone know it. There are plenty of ways to show that you love someone without saying it."

"Do you think he's embarrassed to say it?" I sat back up, tilting my head.

Kristi laughed for a good minute. "Libby honey, just quit worrying about it! Let what happens, happen. And focus on other things. Like making sure you are all ready for my wedding in a couple of weeks."

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