Teach Me To Live (Teach Me - Book One) (34 page)

We arrived home from camping and I made a point of returning home to visit with my parents after being gone for a week. Dad had been home this morning and we’d shared breakfast before he left the house to go to work, leaving Mom and me alone.

Like mother’s do, she fished for information on the progression of my relationship with Austin. I knew, even though she hadn’t asked out right, that she was wondering if we’d had sex while on our trip. Being that her fishing for an answer to this was just as uncomfortable for me as it was for her, I put us both out of our misery quickly.

Now, we were sitting side by side at the pool. Mom had placed her sunglasses on her face, because protecting the skin around your eyes from the sun is paramount to aging with grace. She was also lathered in sunscreen. It might sound silly, but I knew my mother was onto something because she was stunning. Her skin was still beautiful, and although she had wrinkles that were impossible not to acquire with age, she didn’t look at all weathered.

Reaching for the green journal I carry with me everywhere, I flipped it open and set to writing.

Dear Diary,

How does one know they’ve fallen in love? It is the rushing of your beating heart every time you think of the person, see them, feel them? Is it the fact that the thought of spending any amount of time away from them, no matter how great or small, is difficult to imagine? Or is it the less complex explanation and simply knowing that the answer to said question is—you just have?

I think I just have.

I couldn’t say when it happened, but somehow it just did. I’m in love with Austin Weir. I’m so in love with him, I promised to be all his days. I promised to be his heart.

If I didn’t believe with my very soul that I would be his to the end of his days, I never would have agreed. The man was planning on tattooing his body—his heart—for me. That was just—insanely wonderful. I couldn’t believe that I was going to have a place on the canvas Austin had made his body. I couldn’t believe that I could mean so much to another that I would be their days—and their heart.

But, God, Austin was my heart. I wanted so badly for him to be all my days too. I loved him enough for that to be a serious possibility, as crazy as it was.

I still had so much to learn about Austin, but even though there was still so much to learn—I knew enough. I knew all I needed to know that I loved him with the entirety of my heart.

What more could I possibly need, than my hearts acceptance, to make Austin my days?

My phone beeped and I paused my writing as I looked down at the screen to see Austin’s name. My heart fluttered like it usually did when I saw his name lighting my phone. I wasted no time in lifting my phone and looking down at his message.

Austin:
You coming over tonight?

Me:
Do you want me to?

Austin:
I always want you here. Always.

Me:
Then . . . I’ll be there.

Austin:
When?

Me:
How about seven? Want to spend the day with Mom.

Austin:
I could join you . . .

Me:
I’ll talk to Mom about maybe doing dinner . . . tomorrow?

Austin:
Sounds good, sweetheart.

Me:
I want to talk to you about something . . .

My heart raced as I thought about what exactly I wanted to talk to Austin about. And then I felt my heart thump heavily in my chest with nerves. I wished I could reach into the phone and pluck my text message out of whatever data box it was stored in. But I couldn’t.

Austin:
Want me to call you?

Me:
NO!

Austin:
LOL ok . . . ?

Me:
I think it’ll be easier for me to do this on text.

Austin:
I’m here.

Me:
Okay . . . just so you know, I’m nervous.

Austin:
I can tell. But . . . you’re worrying me, sweetheart.

Me:
Don’t be worried. I’m just wondering about, well . . . never mind I can’t do this.

Austin:
I’m going to call you in two minutes if you haven’t talked about whatever it is you want to talk about. Two minutes.

Austin was a patient person, but I had a feeling that I was testing just how patient of a person he was with my inability to get on with this. But crap, how does one tell her boyfriend that she’d like to take the next step in their relationship, and by that I mean I would like to consider sex . . .

Oh crap, the thought alone had my face flushing red.

Glancing at Mom who was sitting beside me at the pool, I felt my stomach drop right into my toes. Bolting up from the lounge chair, I announced. “Austin’s going to call me soon. Be back in a bit.”

Before she could respond in any way, I was up and running for the pool house—my little sanctuary.

Just as I was closing the door behind me, my phone rang. My heart thundered and my hands started to shake. My breaths turned uneven and I debated on ignoring the call, but that would be immature and, well, ridiculous. If I couldn’t handle talking to him about this, then I probably shouldn’t be considering sex in the first place.

Oh, God—what was I doing?

“Hello?” I squeaked.

“It’s been two minutes,” he replied. “Let me in on whatever’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me.” That was true for the most part. I wasn’t bothered . . .

I felt my belly start to feel sick and my skin began to prickle with the same cold sweats that broke out when my nerves became too much and I quickly moved across the pool house to my bed. I placed the phone on speaker before setting it down on my bed so I could hug myself tightly.

Maybe I should have done this in person. I tended to feel more calm when I was in Austin’s presence than I did when I wasn’t with him. Especially for conversations like this.

“Madison,” I could hear his concern. “I know I’m on speaker right now and I know you’re having trouble because you’re breathing deeply and I’ve heard that breath before.” He paused and I listened to his breath. “Take a deep breath in, sweetheart.” I did as he said. “Now let it out,” Again I did as he said. “Close your eyes and just listen to me.”

“I’m listening.”

“I will never judge you, Madison. There is nothing you could say or do that would upset me or make me think less of you. I love you and I know you love me. Whatever this is, whatever you need to say now, we will work through it.”

“I love you,” I whispered because I just had to say it.

He replied with a definitive sounding “I love you,” into the phone.

The sound of his voice and those words filling my bedroom did something to me—because the rushing of my heart slowed and I felt my body grow relaxed. My arms fell to my sides and I let my body sag as it fell to the bed. With the phone beside me, I spoke the words I wanted Austin to know.

“I want to be with you.”

“I can come get you now.”

“Not like that,” I sighed. “That’s not what I, um, mean.”

“What do you mean?” He asked slowly.

“I mean that I want to be with you—physically.” When he didn’t say anything, I added. “I mean, if you want me that way.”

“Of course I do.” His words were hoarse and he sounded so out of breath. “You know I do, Madison.”

“I’m,” I paused, feeling my cheeks grow warm. “I just wanted you to know that.”

“You’re telling me that you’re ready for sex?” He asked and I gave a little ‘oh’ of surprise. “I’m a man, sweetheart. I need it straight and physically sounds a lot like sex to me, but I could be wrong.” He rushed. “I’m just confirming.”

I giggled, because he was adorable. “Yes, I mean sex.”

“Damn,” he breathed. And the way he did it—it sounded like a good thing, so I smiled.

“Um, what do you think?”

“I think I’m the luckiest guy alive.” He sounded hesitant. “But I need to know you’re certain about this. That you want me to be the one for you no matter what.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if something happens and you can’t be with me anymore,” he groaned. “Would you still want me to be the one you were with for your first time?”

“What could happen that I couldn’t be with you anymore?” I asked, lifting the phone but not taking it off speaker.

“Anything. Life happens,” I had a feeling he was rubbing his jaw the way he did when he struggled with something. I had a feeling he was struggling now. “I just need to know you wouldn’t regret it. I need to know you wouldn’t regret me being—that for you.”

“Never,” I whispered. “Austin, I could never regret you. I love you.”

“Okay.” He still sounded so uncertain, so I continued.

“I want you to be the first man who makes love to me because you’re the first and only man I’ve loved. I hope,” I corrected myself. “I pray that you will be the only man I ever love—the only man who I’m with, um, physically. But no matter what happens, I will never regret loving you and having you love me.”

He made a pained sound and I wondered if maybe he was crying. “I don’t deserve you.”

“If anyone doesn’t deserve someone it’s me who doesn’t deserve you,” I smiled, because these words were the truth. “Before you, I didn’t know what living was. Before you, I didn’t understand how passion could consume and ignite. You opened my eyes to the world and now that I see, I never want to sleep again, Austin.” Just speaking these words, I knew I owed to this man my very soul that now knew
life.
“You deserve
everything.
”

“I love you,” he announced almost abruptly. “I’ll see you later tonight. Seven.”

“Oh.” This was definitely abrupt. “Okay. Seven.”

He didn’t wait for more before he hung up.

I blinked, stunned.