My first crush (COMPLETED)√

Chapter 41: Eating my apple

I knew Stephen wasn't the first man to see my body — Eric had once stood where he was now — but I refused to let that memory steal this moment. Tonight felt different. Softer. Real.

I slipped into the pool, the water embracing me in a cool shimmer. His gaze never left me — steady, admiring — and it made warmth bloom beneath my skin.

I swam closer and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing a light kiss to his lips.

Soft music drifted through the air — Perfect playing somewhere in the background — blending with the ripple of water and the quiet rhythm of our breathing.

"Can you stop looking at me like that before you swallow me whole?" I giggled, shy despite myself. "You own it, remember?"

He smiled faintly, cupping my face, his thumb brushing my cheek with tenderness.

"Has anyone told you how perfect you are?"

"Only you."

"Then they're blind."

His lips traced my neck before finding mine again, deeper this time, his arms tightening around my waist. A moan sound escaped me — dizzy, overwhelmed by the closeness, by how easily I melted into him.

Eventually we stepped out of the pool, water trailing down our skin, the night air cool against us. My heart thudded — anticipation and nerves tangled together.

He paused, searching my face.

"Do you still want this?"

I nodded. I did. I wanted the connection, the trust — the feeling of belonging with him in this fragile moment. He reached for protection, and my pulse quickened as reality settled in.

"I'll take it slow," he promised.

I touched his arm, stopping him gently.

"Stephen... please don't ever hurt me."

The words came from somewhere deeper than fear — from stories, from doubts, from everything I never voiced.

His expression softened. "I won't."

Our lips met again — lingering, searching — and I held onto him as we lost ourselves in the closeness, in shared warmth and trust.

Time blurred.

At one point he slowed, brushing damp hair from my face. "You're tired."

Thinking about Patrica made me more strong and jealous. The thought of Stephen hitting her hard because she wasn't a virgin.

"I'm not," I whispered, reluctant for the moment to end.

He chuckled softly. "Still... slow."

He lifted me, carrying me toward the shower. Warm water cascaded over us, rinsing away chlorine and tension alike. We stood there quietly, arms around each other, exchanging gentle kisses, letting the calm settle back in.

Afterward, wrapped in comfort, I dried my hair and reached for my phone.

A message flashed onto the screen.

Carl: 911, Kyle

My stomach tightened.

Whatever peace I'd just found — it was about to shatter.