His golden hair glows and shimmers in the moonlight like the metallic paint on a shiny, new ca
r. “No.”
We’re far away from the party. Or at least I am. I feel like I’m perched on a cloud close to heaven and I don’t want to come down. I never want to come down.
Feeling playful I pull away from him and make a mad dash for the ocean. Drake is behind me, but I drown out the sound of him calling my name. Not that I want to, really. I could listen to him say my name over and over again. He’s a record skipping. Robin. Robin. Robin. It’s nice to hear him say my actual name for a change.
At first I hated the nickname he’d given me years ago. Now I anticipated hearing ‘kid’ leave his lips. Just like I anticipated feeling his lips caress mine.
“Robin!” he shouts. “What are you doing?”
I stop at the edge of the water as the tide rolls in and tickles the tips of my toes. I inhale the bitter smell of salt and not even the icy water can freeze the fire smoldering inside of me. I don’t know what I’m doing. But I like how ‘not knowing’ feels.
My life always feels like it’s so planned out. I’m a good girl. I went to school, obeyed my parents, and always followed the rules. I got good grades and got into a good college. For once, it feels amazing to get away from that. Good isn’t always fun. Most of the time it’s predictable and boring.
Right now I want to get in trouble. I want to break rules. I want to be spontaneous. I want to be bad.
A deceitful look spreads across my face and Drake stares at me unsure of what to do. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that he thinks I’m a loose cannonball. I’m going to shoot out of my barrel at any second and cause a wave of mass destruction.
Reaching down, I scoop up a heaping pile of sand. I flash him a wicked smirk and chuck the heaping-over pile of sand at him. The wet, dirty sand hits him smack dab in the middle of his perfectly pressed white button-up, leaving a dirty residue and falls to the ground in a clump. He drops his head and stares at his shirt.
Me, I’m trying so hard to keep my laughter in my throat that I snort. Then I let out a forced grunt.
Drake lifts his head slowly and slits his eyes, glaring at me seriously. “You think that’s funny?” I think it’s hysterical. But I can’t tell him that because I’ve reached the point where I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. Drake shakes his head and crouches down. “Well, we’ll see how funny you think it is now.” In a split second he scoops up a handful of sand and I take off running. Still laughing. Laughing so hard I have to clutch my side as my ribs start aching.
Drake catches up to me and I shriek as a glob of wet sand smacks into my bare shoulder. Then he tackles me. And we both fall to the ground, rolling around in the sand.
He’s on top of me and I stare up at him. His long black lashes curl up in a feminine way and almost touch his eyebrows. I push his ringlets that hang down into his eyes away from his face. He looks even sexier with his bangs pushed back. A flash of moonlight gleams in his blue eyes. Then his mouth crashes into mine like the jet from Lost when it crash landed into the ocean.
I wish that I could freeze time—no—I wish that I was dreaming so that I could have this same dream over and over again for the rest of my life.
Our kisses escalate to the point where they are coming faster. More deep. More passionate. He kisses me how I imagined a man from a romance novel would kiss his lover and I know this won’t be enough. I want him to kiss me like this every single day. Until the day I’m six feet under lying in my wooden box, lying in my final resting place.
I sit up panting and his hands are in my hair. A second later he rips his shirt off and I brush my fingers against his abs like they’re a road map to the heavens. I need him to kiss me again. If he doesn’t I think I’ll go crazy. But he does. This time more soft. More gentle. More sensual.
I fall backwards into the sand and arch my back as he moves down my neck, tracing the curve with his kisses, and moves on to my collar bone. I love him. I love him I love him. Even though I know that isn’t necessarily true, those are the words I keep hearing in my head.
I can feel my want for him, writhing in my veins. I can feel it prickle in my bones. I can feel the ache for him in place of my heart. Pounding. Thumping. Hammering. I might as well be a construction site; that’s how much I’ve let my feelings for Drake build up.
He hooks his arm underneath my waist and presses his body against mine as water trickles over our limbs. His lips brush against my ear and his hot breath whirls through me like steam from a tea kettle. “You’re beautiful, kid,” he whispers seductively.
“No one has ever told me that,” I tell him.
“What?” Drake holds himself up slightly and examines my face.
“No one has ever told me that I’m beautiful.”
Except him. Well, kind of. Once.
He gives me an odd look, like I might be lying to him, but I’m not. I’m plain. I’m simple. I’m quiet. I was in the marching band in high school and in chess club. I was a social outcast and kind of nerdy if anything. Boys didn’t look at me how I wanted them to or try to date me. Sure I’d had a couple of boyfriends, but both were geeks like me.
“Well, you are beautiful to me.” He leans down and kisses me softly. “Robin, my beautiful singing bird.”
~10~
Those who never make mistakes lose a great many chances to learn from them.
~Author Unknown~