Sweetheart

20

Aaron
October 2020

I sit back on my heels, cleaning my fingers with my tongue, making sure she sees how much I enjoy tasting her. Lizzie's eyes stay fixed on my mouth, her cheeks growing even redder. I hate how beautiful she is. It's distracting.

I fix her clothes and move some hair away from her. My thumb lingers on her bottom lip for a second, and our eyes meet. I piece myself back together, sitting next to her, even though she's still lying down, staring at the sky.

She sighs and sits up. I glance at her. "You okay?" I ask her.

Lizzie shrugs. "Yeah. I just... This is new, you know?" she tells me, turning her head in my direction and blankly looking at me.

"What?" I stop dead. "Wait, hold up, what? You— You never— Like, I thought you and Nate... No, wait, you said—" I blurt out.

She shakes her head, straightening her back and quickly explaining, "No, no. That's not what I meant. I did things. Just... God, this is weird... I've never been with someone who, you know, who is, like, you know, like..."

"Lizzie, I have no idea what you're trying to say right now," I admit.

"Jesus Lord, be my savior," she murmurs, covering her face with her hands. "I've never been with someone who is... Good."

My brows arch up in shock and a little smile curls my lips. Oh, damn. I stifle a laugh. "You've never come—" Her hand slams on my mouth and hushes me. This time, I actually laugh, but the sound is muffled by her palm.

With cheeks as red as a tomato, she urges me to keep it quiet. "That's embarrassing. I did... You know. Just not because of a guy's skill, yeah? Yeah. Now shut up about it."

She retracts her hand and crosses her arms. I change my position to fully face her. "You do realize that it's not something you should be embarrassed about, right?" I point out. "It's their fault they don't know how to make a girl"— she glares at me — "enjoy the experience at its fullest."

Lizzie fidgets with the skin around her nails, picking at it with her thumb. "Still."

"Hey." I grab her hands to stop her nervous habit. "I mean it. Some girls might enjoy what, I don't know, Nate does, and others might not. You happened to not like it, and that's okay."

Her doe eyes meet mine, innocent and sweet. "Does that mean that some girls don't like what you do?" That's an honest question, and I hate it.

"Uhh... Ssssure," I drawl, trying to think of a time when I didn't make a girl come. Think, think, think. "Okay, maybe my point doesn't apply to everyone, but it applies to most."

Thankfully, she laughs. The sound fills my ears, and I wish I could hear it all over again. Forever. Creep. "I guess you are kind of an exception," she says, resting her head against what she probably expected to be my shoulder, but ended up being my chest. "I can hear your heartbeat," she mutters.

I chuckle. "And I thought I was the creepy one."

She smacks my leg. "Asshole."

"You keep missing the opportunity to call me an assbutt like Castiel does. I expected more from you," I tell her, referring to one of Supernatural's characters.

"True," she says, closing her eyes.

"Hey, don't fall asleep. We gotta go back home." I run a hand through her long hair, twisting it around my fingers and playing with the silky length of it. "Come on."

Against her own will, she follows me as we get off the truck and walk back to the front. I offer a hand to help her climb in, but she waves it off and sits on the passenger side.