The Kiss (3 page)

Chapter Four

Nate felt like an idiot for sneaking out his window for a smoke at his age. His dad wouldn’t condone smoking under his roof, however, and Nate
really
needed his nicotine.

And some sleep.

He lit the cigarette, took a deep drag, and held the smoke in his lungs long enough to feel light headed.

Exhaling slowly, he kept telling himself that he wasn’t screwed.

His self didn’t agree.

Nate still didn’t know why the hell he’d gone along with what Greg had asked him to do two years earlier. He didn’t even know why he talked to the big lug, let alone helped him do his dirty work. Except, that was the way it had always been, since the first year of junior high.

Nate had still been Nathaniel then, a sniveling little boy with glasses and a lisp that denoted him as an outsider. Greg had beat up the bully who’d pressed Nathaniel’s face into the mud during lunch break, and Nathaniel had attached himself to the bigger boy’s posse, through the years winning his current place as Greg’s best friend.

Only, at times like that evening two years ago, he wasn’t sure he wanted his hard-won
position
any longer.

The petite blonde had been sitting with her back to him, but he knew it was her. He’d seen her enter while he’d been outside having a smoke. He’d noticed everything about her, from the arch of her eyebrow to the cute pink nail polish on her toes.

He smiled, remembering her squirming. The way she’d obviously been trying to look perfect had been endearing. Then he remembered whom she’d been trying to look perfect for, and the smile froze on his lips.

Greg had pointed her out to him once from afar, and Nate had been gob-smacked. She was far from the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—he’d seen, touched, and
had sex with
a couple of women of much greater beauty—but she radiated something so pure, so
real
that he’d felt instantly drawn to her. Then Greg had told him she was the
plat du jour
, or rather of the month, and Nate had decided to forget he’d ever seen her.

Until that evening.
Greg had asked him to give Eliza a message, thus throwing him headfirst into the worst dilemma of his life.

Nate had known how Greg treated girls and, to his shame, had never done anything to discourage it even though he never liked it. He’d tell himself that it served the chicks right if they fell for all the bullshit Greg fed them to get them into bed. Sometimes he’d even make sure his best friend’s overlapping dates weren’t discovered.

That should have been the case that evening, too. Greg had asked him—not that there had been a question or a ‘please’ involved—to tell Eliza that he wouldn’t make it to their date, as the girl didn’t have a mobile phone. Nate had also been privy to the real reason why Greg would be a no-show. The jerk was meeting
Suzie
: petite, brunette, and expected to put out within the next couple of hours.

Nate grimaced in disgust.

Whether his disgust was for Easy-Suzie, who’d been so desperate to have her cherry popped that she’d told Greg she only wanted him for one night; for Greg, whose insecurities meant he only got his jollies by hurting others; or for himself for being stupidly loyal to him, it was what had helped him make his mind up.

He wouldn’t have felt right betraying Greg by outright warning the girl. Still, he’d make her more wary of the next time she saw her boyfriend, and maybe that would save her the heartache he knew she was rapidly headed for.

He’d been surprised when he’d caught himself briefly flirting with her. She hadn’t gone for that—not that he’d expected her to; he was sure she was the loyal kind. And it wasn’t like he’d ever flirt with her for real, he’d told himself later that night. Hitting on a friend’s girl, no matter how disposable that friend considered her, was unthinkable.

Hearing Eliza talk about Greg as if he were the salt of the earth had enraged Nate. He’d wanted to grab her by the shoulders and yell that her boyfriend was an asshole who wouldn’t know a good thing if it hit him between the eyes. She was worth so much more than a serial user and abandoner. She deserved…
him
.

Scare her away from Greg; that had been the plan. And what better way to do so than by showing her what a jerk her
Greg
hung out with?

When Greg had called him at two in the morning a week later to tell him he’d gotten into her virginal panties, Nate had punched a wall so hard, he’d fractured two knuckles.

The next time he’d seen her, she’d been fighting back tears at the way the man she loved had made fun of her for gifting him with something Nate would have held precious. His reaction seemed extremely stupid in retrospect, but at the time the only thing he’d felt he could do had been make her hate him more. In his warped reasoning, if he was the one insulting her, she’d focus on despising him instead of on the hurt Greg’s betrayal had caused her.

It hadn’t worked quite as planned, so he’d eventually resorted to
other…
measures
, but he secretly still reveled in the memory of the exact moment she got over Greg.

That kick in the balls was a sight he’d never forget.

***

Eliza took a long look in the mirror and wondered about the sanity of going on a date with someone who consorted with the devil’s minions—also known as Greg and Nate. To his defense, Bill seemed to have always liked her. She’d known him since high school, even before she and Greg had hooked up, and he appeared to have remained a genuinely nice guy. Krista vouched to that.

Then again, neither she nor Krista had always been the best judges of character.

Two Years earlier

Eliza and Krista giggled all the way home from school. They had a secret—Eliza’s secret—and they were bursting with excitement. It was funny how, even though it was Eliza who should be jittery, her best friend was the one who kept saying that it would all be perfect.

“And you have to tell me everything tomorrow. Well, not
everything
, but enough. And—and not tomorrow. Tonight. Call me tonight. When you get home.”Krista winked. “If you’re not too lightheaded by then.”

“Kris!” Eliza did her best to sound indignant, but slapped her friend’s shoulder playfully. “It may not be that good.”

“Oh, it will all be perfect. Greg is your Mr. Right.”

It
would
all be perfect. That was the perfect time for her to give up her virginity and her Greg was the perfect guy to take it.

Eliza had been thinking about that night for a week, planning every last little detail of how she wanted her seventeenth birthday to be celebrated. She and Greg would dine at her favorite restaurant then drive back to his place for a nightcap. She’d much prefer it if they could go to her house, but there was no way she’d convince her Mom about that—not that she’d try. When they’d get to Greg’s place, they’d put on some soft music and light candles and then…that was as far as she’d gotten.

She’d made sure to drop hints about her birthday plans to her boyfriend but hadn’t mentioned the nightcap. She wanted that and what would follow to feel spontaneous.

***

Eliza and Greg had a wonderful time at the restaurant, even though he seemed to be trying to get through the four exquisite courses they were served as fast as possible. Once they were done with dessert, he looked at her with those soulful eyes and asked if she wanted to go somewhere for a drink. It was the perfect opening for her to suggest his place.

The moment they came through the door, he asked what she’d like to drink. He got her the diet soda she asked for while she made herself comfortable on the couch. Their hands touched when he gave her the glass, and his fingertips lingered on her knuckles.

Nervously, she took a sip from her drink before handing it back to him. “Not really thirsty.”

He sat next to her, left the glass on the coffee-table, and smiled. In the next instant, his lips were covering hers, and he was shoving his tongue into her mouth. Eliza tried to respond to the kiss, but it seemed to hold no rhythm she could follow, so she just let her jaw go slack for him to kiss her as he felt like.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her onto his lap. Not withdrawing from the kiss, he began rubbing her breasts hungrily over her top. She could feel him harden beneath her bottom, and that somehow gave her the courage to do what she did next. She pulled back, looked him in the eye, and licked her lips as sultrily as she could. “I want you,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Despite his question, his fingers were already busy unbuttoning her top. He looked so vulnerable that she couldn’t change her mind.

She nodded.

She expected him to touch her when she was finally completely naked in front of him—expected him to let her see him. However, he laid her on the bed and turned off the lights before losing his own clothes. Then he slipped in next to her and pulled the sheets over them.

She’d never contemplated the act of sex before. She knew the basics, of course, and had even seen pictures in the magazine Krista had found under Bill’s mattress—she’d laughed heartily at how her friend’s nose had wrinkled more with every image. Still, Eliza had never thought of actually doing it. She just imagined it would be something like what she’d read about in her mother’s romance novels. A merging of souls and bodies, something that would let her reach unprecedented ecstasy.

Reality wasn’t anything close to what she’d read about. The act itself wasn’t
horrible
, per se—not like she had any experience to compare it to—but it felt…weird. Greg didn’t pressure her into anything; she was a willing participant. Yet she felt like everything was mechanical, awkward.

He kissed her and immediately covered her body with his, guiding his shaft between her legs. “This may hurt a bit,” he said, nuzzling her cheek.

When she said, “
I love you
,” he pushed into her in one hard thrust.

The pain wasn’t splitting but it was there, and she was afraid it would only get worse if he moved right then.

He didn’t, instead peppering her face with kisses. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, and he apologized for not taking things slower, saying that was the best way to not prolong the pain.

When he started pumping his hips, she realized the pain had lessened but, if there was any ecstasy to be reached, it obviously needed more than the three minutes it took for him to grunt, shudder, and come inside her.

He rolled off her, and she heard the sound of a drawer being opened. A moment later, his palm touched her lips.

“Here, take this.”

She opened her mouth to ask what
this
was, and a tiny pill landed on her tongue.

“It’s that ‘morning after’ thing,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you to get knocked up now, would we?”

She gagged a bit, but managed to swallow it without water.

“Did I do something wrong?” Her throat was dry and her eyes moist.

“No.” He chuckled and got out of bed. “I mean, you didn’t do much, did you?” He turned on the light and she saw he had his pants on already. “Come on. Your mother will be worried if you’re late.”

He dropped her off at her house with a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll call you.”

***

He’d never called her.

On the phone, that is.

On the contrary, he’d called her lots of things whenever he and his friends had happened to see her over the course of the next few weeks. The main theme of the inspired insults aimed at her alternated between her being easy and being bad in bed.

She’d managed to brave it all, but when she was alone at home, she’d cry and wrack her brain trying to figure out what she’d done to deserve that kind of treatment. For a long time she’d been convinced that
she
was somehow to blame for her Prince Charming turning into a frog, and that ate at her.

Until
Nate
of all people had made a jibe at her expense that opened her eyes to the truth.

***

Krista had tried so hard to convince her to go out and have fun, and Eliza could only resist her friend’s pleas for so long before giving in and following her to
The Zoo
.

She was actually having a good time dancing and semi-flirting with a cute guy she met, when Greg approached her out of nowhere. The guy disappeared under Greg’s glare, and Eliza backed away from her ex-boyfriend. She frantically looked around for Krista, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Greg cornered her, and she was sure whatever he said this time would be the one thing that would break her. She would collapse into a crying heap in front of him, and that was a humiliation she wouldn’t survive.

Her back found the wall, and Greg planted his palms on either side of her head, trapping her between them. “You know, if you beg, I could let you have one more taste.” She assumed he thought his smile was seductive. It reminded her of the bad wolf in every fairytale—the one that couldn’t be swayed from getting its prey.