What I Should Have Done ✓

Chapter 47

The ember rays of sunrise streamed through my window. It was 6:58 am, as a glance at my alarm clock told me. A few weeks ago it would have still been pitch black at this time. John was still sound asleep beside me. Oh God. My face flushed upon the memories of the previous night. I focused on the sounds I could hear: John's deep and even breathing, the chirping birds outside, the ticking of the clock, my own too-deep breathing.

I scrambled to my feet, careful not to wake him, and opened the door as quietly as possible to make my way to the bathroom next door. The air of the hallway was chilly against my bare legs and the white tiled bathroom floor figuratively froze the soles of my feet. Thanks to my thoughtful self of last night, I was at least wearing underwear and an old oversized high school t-shirt barely reaching my thighs.

Moving swiftly from nerves, I went to pee and afterwards looked in the mirror. Did I look any different? Like a woman who had slept with her boyfriend for the first time? What would that look like, anyway, what were the signs? Should I have been glowing or whatever? I concluded that the face staring back at me was still the same it had been the days before, at least in the mornings.

I haphazardly ran a brush through my honey blonde hair and threw it up into a messy bun. I considered, but ultimately dismissed the idea of applying mascara. Who was I trying to impress? As much as the thought made my face flush, John had seen all of me last night, and he had done more than see it. He didn't care if I was wearing make-up or not. Instead, I opted to brush my teeth to get rid of my morning breath.

I snuck back into my room and closed the door behind me as silently as possible. Not silently enough.

"Where did you run off to at this ungodly hour?" John mumbled behind me.

I jumped, then turned around to find him stretched across the bed, the blanket pooling around his waist and his bare chest showing off the muscles he had meticulously sculpted at soccer. My heart did somersaults all the way up into my throat. His hair was unkempt, but at this length, one could barely tell. Only one of his eyes was open and looking at me, the other was still closed, not wanting to wake up quite yet. I finally cleared my throat and sat back down on the edge of my bed.

"I didn't run off, I went to the bathroom, go back to sleep," I said in a low volume.

"No, now I don't want to anymore. Not when you're right here looking so ravishing." He opened both of his eyes now and reached out to brush a lock of hair that had loosened from the bun behind my ear.

My pulse doubled and my heart wanted to jump out of my mouth.

"You're ridiculous," I said with an unwilling grin and touched the assembled mess of hair on top of my head. My God, this man was going to be the death of me.

"How do you feel about last night?" asked John. To get a better look at me, he propped himself up on his elbow and rested his head in his palm. He was getting good at spotting my awkwardness.

"Um... I think we established yesterday at the latest that talking about our feelings isn't our forte."

"You can give it a shot." His smile was patient and encouraging.

I paused for a couple of seconds, trying to figure out what to say, then gave up.

"You go first."

He sighed. "I'm crazy about you. I was before last night and I still am, probably even more so." He paused, averted his eyes, then sounded strained as he added: "I feel so connected to you. Being here is like catching a glimpse of your brain and I love it."

"I felt the same way at your house. I just don't have the right words."

With that, I leaned down and kissed John on the lips earnestly, hoping to convey all the emotion in it that I could not form into sentences. He cupped my face, eagerly kissed me back, and sat up in the process. After way too short a time, he pulled away and slipped his hands under my t-shirt where they came to rest on my waist. His fingers were rough from the woodwork and when he began to kiss my bare shoulder where the t-shirt had slid down, his lips were like hot silk. I hadn't ever met anyone who was as effortlessly sexy as he was.

"I know we only started dating recently, but I realized something," he murmured against my skin. I reached back and ran my fingers through his short, brown hair because I couldn't seem to keep them off of him.

"And what's that?" I asked hoarsely.

He paused his kissing, squeezed my hand, and whispered: "I want to finish school next year. Because of you. The only thing I know about the future is that I'd like you to be in it. Does that scare you?"

My eyes flew shut. He couldn't have picked a more perfect thing to say, here in my bedroom in the intimacy of the early morning, for no one to hear but me and him. I knew he wasn't just saying it because we had slept together. I knew because I felt it, as platitudinous as it sounded. My heart wasn't big enough to hold all the happiness I was feeling, and my face wasn't big enough to hold my grin.

I squeezed his hand firmly. "No."

We kissed again, slowly but intensely, before I let my head sink back onto his shoulder, facing his neck. With my index finger, I absentmindedly drew little shapes on the bare skin above his heart. In turn, his fingers ran soft circles on my scalp on the back of my head. Had I been a cat, I would have been purring for the whole neighborhood to hear. As a human, I only sighed and squeezed his hand that I was still holding.

"Your dad is back, right?" he asked after a while as he began to kiss the crook of my neck. I opened my eyes, but didn't move my head.

"Hey, that tickles! Yeah, I can hear him in the kitchen, why?"

"Shame. I thought we could pick up where we left off last night."

Even at this angle, I could feel his mischievous grin against my skin and smacked him on the arm for making my cheeks hot again.

"Alright, alright," he laughed. "Then let me get up and use the bathroom. I have to take care of something before I see other people."

I gasped and as he got up only to stand in front of me in his basketball shorts, I tried in vain not to resemble a tomato, much to John's amusement.

"It'll be difficult, but do you want me to keep it the affection extra PG downstairs, with your dad and all?"

"Um..." Did I? The more I thought about it, the less it made sense to hide anything. I had hidden our feelings for each other for way too long as it was. "No, it's fine. Dad will keep it cool either way."

"It'll be your awkwardness that won't keep it cool?" he teased.

"Pretty much," I replied apologetically. "And now please move your hot, half-naked body out of my sight or we'll never get downstairs."

John grinned from ear to ear, then did as he was toldand left me sitting on the edge of my bed, face flaming hot and mind and heartfull of nothing but him.