Chapter Twelve

Sam and Julianne returned home, anxious to finish up a few things before I moved in the next day. Peter and Veronica retreated to their bedroom, and Weston asked me to take a drive. We held hands while he drove out to his favorite spot, the overpass, and we lay in the bed of the truck, looking up at the stars.

“I’m a little nervous. I just got you, and I’ve had you all to myself until now,” he said, leaning over to kiss my hair.

I leaned into his kiss, my head resting on his arm. “I’m just around the corner, and I’ll still need a ride to school every morning. I don’t think things will be that different.”

“I don’t know. You have eighteen years of making up to do, and I would be a complete ass if I begrudged you getting to know your parents. I feel like I should step aside, but I don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to step aside,” I said, thinking over his last words. “My parents. Wow. It’s just . . . crazy. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up, or someone’s going to tell me this was a cruel prank.”

“A cruel prank? You’ve just hit the lottery. Not only are your bullies gone, but you have two of the best people in town as your parents.”

“It feels wrong to celebrate it.”

“You didn’t steal them, Erin. They’re yours. Kind of like me.”

I looked over at him, and I could see his amazing smile in the dim light of the moon. “It’s just too much good luck all at once for someone who hasn’t had any. I feel like it’s all going to be ripped away from me at any moment.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I promise.”

I turned onto my side, leaning over him, and touched my lips to his. It was a chilly night, but something deep inside of me felt warm, and the warmth spread throughout my body. Weston felt it, too, because his fingers pressed into my skin, and he made that little sound that I loved. I pulled away, and bit my lip, a little nervous about what I was about to do.

I sat up, and slipped my shirt over my head. Weston didn’t move until I reached back to unsnap my bra, and then he sat up, grabbing my arms. He kissed me once, whispering against my lips.

“What are you doing?” His eyes were closed, but the tension of restraint was evident in every muscle of his body.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Not here.”

“What?”

“You don’t want your first time to be in the back of my truck.”

“Why not? My favorite memories are here.”

He thought about it for a moment. When I kissed him, he kissed me back, hard. His fingers touched the top of my shoulders, and he pulled down the white straps of my bra. The second it was lying next to us, he ripped his shirt over his head and pulled me against him. His warm chest against my bare breasts created a tingling between my thighs, and it was my turn to make that low humming sound.

Weston turned me onto my back, undid my jeans, and pulled them down, past my ankles, and set them in the pile with the rest of our clothes. It didn’t take long for both of us to be naked, and then Weston was above me, his mouth on mine, his bare skin against mine.

I squeezed his hips between my thighs while he slipped on a condom, but when he was finished and perfectly positioned to take my virginity, he paused.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean completely sure. You can say wait right now, and I’d be okay with it. I’ll wait.”

I reached down to his bare backside, and with my fingers, pushed him into me. He buried his face in my neck as he worked his way in, gentle and slow. I was glad he wasn’t kissing me, because I was unable to focus on anything but the uncomfortable burning. After a few minutes, though, we seemed to fit together perfectly, and I relaxed. Weston’s mouth returned to mine, and we touched and tasted each other until we were spent.

Just before sunrise, Weston reached for his jeans pocket. He pulled out his inhaler and took a puff. He stared at me, exhausted and happy. We settled on our backs, looking up at the stars. Weston kissed my forehead and reached over to his jacket, covering me. He reached for his jeans pocket, pulling out a long, black box.

“I got you something,” he said.

“For what?”

“Your birthday.”

“My birthday was in September,” I said.

He chuckled. “It’s a belated birthday gift. I wanted to wait until graduation, but I couldn’t. Now feels like the perfect moment.”

The box creaked when I peeled it apart, and my hands trembled with excitement. It had been a long time since anyone had given me anything. The lid flipped open, revealing a silver heart. It was nearly identical to the one in the charcoal drawing, complete with Happenstance etched across it. I gasped.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

Like it? It’s the same necklace, isn’t it?”

He beamed. “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered, how did you find this?”

We both sat up. Weston pulled the necklace from the box and fastened the clasp behind my neck. “I have connections. I’m a good person to know, you know.”

“I know,” I said, wrapping my arms around him.

He kissed me once. “I didn’t know that when I saw it on you, it would be the only thing you were wearing. This is a definite bonus.”

I giggled.

He looked at the heart, then back up at me. “It’s perfect. Like the girl in the window.”

“She’s not perfect,” I said, shaking my head.

“She’s perfect for me.” He touched his lips to mine, and just when that warm, tingling feeling began to spread throughout my body, he pulled away.

“We’d better get dressed and get you back to the house so we can get a few hours of sleep. We’ve got to get you moved today.”

“I’m moving in with the Aldermans,” I said, thinking out loud.

“You are an Alderman.”

I shook my head, in complete disbelief. “This is going to mess with my head if I think about it too hard.”

Weston helped me from the tailgate, and again to the passenger side of his truck. It was beginning to feel like my side, and I liked that. He held my hand as he drove me back to his house, and I felt at ease knowing that even though I was leaving that day, I would be only a few houses away.

Weston noticed that I was lost in thought and squeezed my hand. “Try not to overthink it. It is what it is.”

I touched the necklace that hung perfectly against the little indention between my collar bones, and wondered what it would be like to live as Erin Alderman.

“It’s happenstance,” I whispered.

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