Alright, this chapter...is a big one. That's all I'm going to say.

Daydream

"What about this one?"

Haley eyes the sundress that her mom is holding against her chest, bending the hanger. Dark blue and purple flowers decorate the fabric, leaving only slivers of mustard yellow peeking through. The dress would be cute if it didn't extend to Lydia's ankles and didn't have billowed sleeves.

She shrivels her nose. "Kind of looks like something Grandma James would wear."

Lydia sighs, shoving the sundress back on the display. She leafs through the rest of the rack, a scowl piercing her face as she skips dress after dress.

"What exactly are you looking for?" Haley asks after taking a sip of the strawberry-banana smoothie she got from the juice place right outside of the mall.

Her mom dragged her out of bed at eight this morning, all but forcing her to put on some decent clothes and get ready to go shopping. The mall is not a regular hang out for Haley and shopping is not her favorite pastime—it's one that requires a specific mood that doesn't come around all that often.

Nonetheless, she didn't ask questions. With sleep still clouding her eyes, she pulled a pair of jeans up her legs and dragged a brush through her hair. She hardly looks presentable enough to be roaming around the mall, especially into the fancy boutiques full of clothes her mom can't afford that she's been dragged into. Surprisingly, she doesn't care, not even when the store clerk at Joanne's shot her a less than impressed look.

"I'm just looking for some new clothes to spice up my wardrobe."

She doesn't meet Haley's eyes once during her explanation, one that she mumbles through in an ashamed manner. Haley eyes her suspiciously, chewing the end of her straw. Everything with her mom for the past few weeks has felt…off-kilter.

"Are you sure that nothing is going on with you?"

Lydia slides a short, red dress off a nearby rack and swivels to a nearby mirror. She holds it up to her body, smoothing a hand over the material to mold the dress to her body.

"I didn't know it was a crime to want to branch out."

"It's not," Haley dismisses, shaking her head. "But why now? I mean, for all sixteen years of my life you've worn nothing but sweaters and v-neck shirts that come in a variety of colors."

Lydia checks the price tag dangling from the sleeve of the dress and frowns. Pulling it away from her body, she pushes it back on the rack to join the discarded sundress.

"Ever heard of a midlife crisis?"

Haley doesn't press the issue any further, only laughs awkwardly in response. Her mom, ever the open book, might be telling the truth and the thoughts in her convincing her otherwise might be the anxiety Lydia has told her about.

Lydia spends the next twenty minutes sifting through rack after rack of dresses, the annoyance growing on her face with each dud. With a disappointed sigh, she loops an arm through Haley's and leads her out of the store and back into the busy corridors. Haley swears that every resident of Tree Hill that's not on some tropical vacation is at the mall.

She also swears that she feels eyes following her every move, but then again, she's been more paranoid than normal recently.

"Are you sure you don't want to stop anywhere? We can swing by Victoria's Secret and pick up some lingerie for you to show Nathan."

Haley grimaces, her cheeks tinting a bright shade of pink. "Has anyone ever told you that you act more like a best friend than a mom?"

"Yes, you. Many times since you've been able to speak," Lydia says with a laugh, patting Haley's forearm. "I told you many stories about your grandma and how she sheltered me from everything when I was growing up—sex, boys, risqué music…the list goes on and on. The first time I got my period, I thought I was dying with blood pouring out of me because—"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard the story." Haley rushes out, cringing as the horror stories of her grandma filter through her mind. It's hard to imagine her grandma being the way Lydia describes when she's the sweet woman she is today, but she's glad she never had to experience it.

"I vowed that whenever I had kids, they would never grow up sheltered like that."

"And you're doing a wonderful job of it," Haley teases with an undertone of seriousness. Lydia smiles, leaning her head Haley's shoulder.

Minutes later they walk into the crowded food court. They part ways at the beginning of the V-shape of the infrastructure—Lydia in search of a table to sit at and Haley in search of something to eat. She walks down the line of mini restaurants, searching for the shortest line, as well as something she has a taste for.

Settling on a small-scale substation, she hops in line. The process moves quickly and before she knows, she's heading to find her mom with two turkey subs in her hands. It takes her a few sweeps of the court before she finds Lydia sitting at a two-seat table in the middle of all chaos.

"Here you go," Haley says as she slides into the seat across from Lydia, placing the subs in front of them.

Lydia reaches for her sub, casting her head downwards but her eyes peering up, almost as if she didn't want to be caught staring at something she shouldn't be.

"Do you know that boy?"

"What boy?"

She juts her head in the direction of something behind Haley. "The boy that's been staring at you since we walked in."

Haley looks over her shoulder and an eerie feeling settles in the pit of her stomach when she locks eyes with Tim Smith. It's only for a brief second, surprise and shame overcoming his face as he quickly looks away, realizing that he's been caught. He starts to make conversation with the guy sitting next to him as if he wasn't caught staring at her.

Confusion and a feeling that she can only describe as discomfort spears through her. How is it that she's lived in such sharp boundaries against people like Tim Smith for a long time, but now they keep interlocking in outlandish ways?

"Um, no, not really."

~x~

A solid knock echoes through her quiet house. Haley tries to return her focus to the SAT study book in front of her, leaving the guest at the door up to her mom to answer. She hasn't been able to get nearly as much studying done as she wanted to. As she's getting into the math section of the test, the knock interrupts her again.

"Mom! Someone's at the door!"

Her only response is silence. Sighing, she pushes her materials away from her and hops off the kitchen stool. Stalking over to the front door, she flips the locks with aggression and whips open the front door.

Surprise forms on her face when she sees Nathan leaning against the doorframe—calm, cool, and collected. The smirk on his face is easy and playful, sending a thrill of appreciation through her. His busted lip is almost healed, but the bruise around his eye is still hanging on.

He looks good in just a plain white t-shirt and jeans. Her annoyance evaporates like a drop of water on a hot July day.

"I didn't know you were stopping by."

"That's because I didn't tell you." His tongue peeks out to lick his lips, eyes glancing over her in appreciation. She wishes she was wearing more than some ratty t-shirt and sweatpants. "I wanted to do this properly."

She raises an eyebrow, leaning against the inside doorframe, matching his body language. Extending her hand with her palm facing the sky, she invites him to continue.

"Are you free tonight?"

"Hm, possibly. Depends on what you have in mind."

He's buzzing like a little kid in a candy store—eyes twinkling with delight and mouth twitching to contain an over-excited grin. His excitement bleeds into her.

"A proper date. You and me. The beach and a picnic under the stars, just like we talked about."

She pretends to think about, tapping her pointer finger against her chin and masking the butterflies in her stomach. It's all she can do to stop herself from answering his proposal with embarrassing quickness.

"I guess I can pencil you in my oh-so-busy schedule."

Nathan rolls his eyes but smiles at her in that heartbreaking way of his. She giggles, crossing her arms as she leans her head against the molding, her foot swaying back and forth. She feels like a schoolgirl with a crush but the innocence is refreshing.

"You know, I never really pegged you as the old-fashioned kind of guy who believed in proper courtship."

Nathan chuckles, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"In some ways, I'm old fashioned, in some ways I'm not." He shrugs. "But when it comes to proving myself to be worthy of the town's most eligible bachelorette? Absolutely."

They meet eyes and immediately erupt into a roar of laughter.

"Okay, we need to stop this," Haley says through her giggles.

"You're right. It's getting kind of weird. Pick you up at 8?"

Haley nods. He beams a smile and presses a quick kiss against her lips before bouncing down the stairs. She attempts to go back to studying, but it's a lost cause.

~x~

Despite the cool breeze coming off the water, the air is humid and thick, tasting like summer. The last bit of day is losing to the dark, painting the sky with deep shades of blue, pink, and purple. It's quiet, only the sounds of the waves and a few straggling voices from two girls sifting through the sand for seashells and a couple walking their dog.

Nathan swings their joined hands, the rough pad of his thumb smoothing over the back of her hand. In his other hand is a wicker basket full of food, a thick blanket threaded through the handle.

"Where are we going?" she asks, although she's pretty sure she already knows the answer.

"You'll see."

As she expected, they slow down when they reach his secret spot. It's hard to tell, but the sand appears untouched from the last time they were there. If she looked closely, she's positive she could make out the silhouettes they left in the sand where there sitting.

It's still as beautiful as it was that night, even more so under the streaks of the setting sun.

Nathan drops the wicker basket into the sand and squeezes her hand, drawing her in front of him. The hand that was holding the basket slides up her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake, and toys with the sleeve on her red short-sleeve t-shirt.

He appears unsettled, a thin line forming between his pinched brows. He avoids her gaze for a couple of seconds, clearing mulling over something, but looking at her.

"I wasn't sure if it was appropriate to come here given—

"It's perfect," she cuts him off.

She knows where he was going with his statement and he's wrong. The moment that shared on the beach was a catalyst for her, for them. She was confused—so confused and so hurt. But when Nathan bared his soul to her in a way that he hadn't before, whether she was consciously aware of it or not, that was the moment she knew that she didn't care anymore. Not about what other people thought. Not about the consequences. And not about the fact that Nathan had the power to hurt her like no one else.

Nathan bends his head and she stretches on her toes to meet him halfway for a kiss that is so sweet and refreshing it could make her cry.

After they pull away, Nathan works to spread the thick, wool blanket out over the sand. It's bigger than she expected, leaving them space to stretch their limbs and spread out of the food without feeling cramped. She helps him remove several neatly wrapped containers filled with what appears to be an assortment of fruit, little sandwiches, and cookies for dessert.

"Who put this together?" Haley asks, unwrapping a container of strawberries and popping one into her mouth.

"I did."

She blinks in surprise, swallowing her bite of food before speaking. "You did?"

Nathan holds her gaze for a couple of seconds, a slow and sheepish smile fighting to stay hidden on his face. "Okay, I can't take all the credit. I asked my grandma for help."

"Well, it looks amazing."

He chuckles in appreciation as he stretches his legs out in front of him, crossing them at his ankles. Leaning back on the palm of his hands, his eyes dance with amusement. Even in the fading light, the cobalt blue of his polo shirt brings out the blue in his eyes.

"I've seen this kind of thing done thousands of times in cheesy romance movies and books. I hope this isn't too cliché for you."

She glances around the empty beach, taking in the ebb and flow of the waves. Above them, dark clouds are creeping in, painting over the stars as the air shifts between a humid breeze and a slight chill.

"It's cliché in the most perfect way," she answers with a smile. "How's the training going with your dad?"

Nathan reaches for a mini sandwich, his shoulders slumped. "Tiring, as always. It's been a miracle that I've managed to escape him as much as I have. Usually, he's on my ass from sun up to sundown."

Haley swallows the piece of pineapple she was chewing on before speaking. "Maybe he's starting to lay off of you?"

Her optimism falls flat, the words tasting silly on her mouth. She has to try, though.

Nathan snorts. "Nah, he's just on a bender right now. Alcohol has become his first priority, but basketball is a very close second."

She tenses at his darkened expression. "There hasn't been—"

She falls silent when he shakes his head. "I haven't given him a chance. I make myself scarce as soon as he pops open the bottle."

Haley doesn't know what to say to that, so she reaches for a sandwich of her own.

"Anyway, enough about me…how'd shopping go with your mom this morning?"

She swallows and allows him to change the subject because she knows it's what he needs. They fill the silence with comfortable chatter, flowing from one conversation to the next. Haley's laughter and Nathan's teasing float through the night air like thin sheets of paper, getting lost in the roar of the ocean.

She gets momentarily distracted by movement in the marram grass behind them. Her heart jumps in her throat as she squints her eyes against the dark, trying to make out the figure she thought she saw lurking in the shadows. Her eyes adjust slowly to the darkness, revealing nothing but someone's discarded towel hanging off a post, blowing in the slight breeze.

Her body relaxes, but her embarrassment grows, along with the gnawing paranoia inside of her that rears its ugly head at the most inopportune times.

"What's on your mind?" Nathan asks her when she falls silent.

She picks at the stem of a strawberry, dropping the leaves into a folded napkin.

"Have you heard anything else about who took that picture of us?"

"No," he shakes his head, sitting up. He lifts his knees, looping his arms around them. "Everyone I talk to is either clueless or pretending to be clueless, which doesn't come to a complete surprise to me. Why?"

She looks up, his concerned expression piercing her. Every time he looks at her like that, she feels so safe and understood, like she could tell him anything and he would listen with an open heart.

Still, it's her default to act like everything is fine—a habit she's trying to break.

"I was just wondering."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She brushes it off before backtracking. "Actually, no. I know that I said before that it didn't matter who took the picture, but I think…I think it does."

Nathan's expression doesn't give her any hint to how he's feeling, but he's still listening to her intently. She continues but not before dropping her distraction device back into the bowl of strawberries.

"When I walk into school every day or when I go out downtown, I feel people from school staring at me and I've gotten used to that. I've gotten used to the whispers."

She swallows the sudden alarm in her throat. She knew the whole thing made her uncomfortable, but she didn't realize just how much it did until she said it out loud.

"But the more I think about the fact that someone camped outside of my house or even walked by my house to snap a picture of us and then send it around to everyone, the more uncomfortable I feel. And the more it opens me up to questions like 'has someone been following us? me?' It doesn't sit right with me."

Nathan's eyes cloud over with something indecipherable. His body settles, tense and taut like a rubber band being stretched to its capacity without snapping. Within seconds, it's gone and his concerned demeanor returns tenfold.

"You're right. I'll keep asking around. Eventually, someone has to crack."

"Can I do anything to help?"

Nathan shakes his head. "No, I got it. Unless you hear something before me…then by all means."

Haley cracks a smile.

~x~

"Wanna go swimming?" Nathan asks after they pack all of the food containers back into the wicker basket. The wind is starting to pick up, the clouds above them becoming dark and more ominous.

Her brows crinkle and extend towards her hairline. "Right now? The water is probably freezing!"

Nathan stares at her in that enticing way that has her stomach clenching—lips pressed into a thin smirk and one brow raised. "So? It'll be fun."

She glances between him and the water. Since they arrived, the waves have grown in size, hurling towards the shore in more frequent succession. If she gets too close to the waves, they'd knock her down in a heartbeat.

"Make you a compromise?" Haley swings her eyes back to Nathan's face.

He nods for her to go on.

"Ankle deep?"

He agrees and they stand up. She brushes off the little bit of sand that has made its way on to the blanket and on the back of her jean shorts. Nathan motions for her to go ahead of him and she does.

A mixture of a laugh and a squeal fly out of her mouth when Nathan hooks an arm around her torso, lifting her off the ground a few seconds later. Her back lands against his chest, her legs kicking the air as he carries her over to the water. Her blunt nails dig into the muscles of his forearm, but he's unfazed, inching closer and closer to where the water meets the sand.

"Nathan! Don't you dare!"

"What?" His lips are against her ear, his breath ruffling the curly mess of her hair.

"If you throw me in, I swear to God!" Her loud threat mixed with light laughter echoes through the night air.

"Throw you in?" He teases, slowing his trek. "I wasn't going to do that…but now that you suggest it…"

She screams as Nathan swings her body towards the water, gripping on to him tighter. He never lets her go, swinging her back so she's tight against his chest and puts her feet back on the ground. The sounds of the ocean appear much louder now, like a lioness roar

He wraps both of his arms around her in a tight embrace, holding her against his chest. She shivers as he leaves delicate kisses against the side of her neck, enough pressure to be felt and drive her crazy.

"Cold?"

She opens her mouth to answer, but a large raindrop lands on her cheek, followed by a second and a third. In a blink of an eye, the rain starts falling faster, teetering between being a drizzle and a pour.

"I thought it wasn't supposed to rain tonight?" Haley wonders, angling her neck to look back at Nathan.

"I didn't hear anything about rain."

A crack of thunder has them springing into action. They rush to pack up the wicker basket and grab the blanket.

His hand grips hers. "Come on, my dad's beach house isn't far from here—I know where he hides the spare key."

It's difficult running in sand as is, but when large raindrops are pelting you from every direction and wind is whipping against you with a fierce ferocity, it's even harder. A strike of lightning illuminates the entire sky, followed by a crack of thunder so loud Haley swears it rattles her bones. They both jump.

"We're almost there!" Nathan shouts over the rain. "Keep your head down."

By the time they reach the back stairs to the Scott beach house, the muscles in her legs are on fire and her clothes are sticking to her like a second skin. She's drenched in places she didn't think you could be drenched in.

After a few slips on the wet stairs and a couple of more cracks of thunder, they finally reach the back door. She lets out a sigh of relief as the awning shields them from the rain, which is coming down even harder now.

Nathan slides over to a small flower pot and lifts it, showing her the key hidden beneath. With shaky and wet hands, he unlocks the door and they stumble inside. The sounds of the storm are quieter now, their heavy breathing and the water droplets dripping off their bodies the more prominent sounds.

The warm air of the beach house causes her to be hyperaware of the wet clothes on her body, sticking to her skin in a plethora of uncomfortable ways and a chill runs deep into her bones. The place looks a lot different when it's bathed in darkness and there aren't drunk teenagers sprawled out everywhere.

Looking at Nathan, her heart stops and knots of something new and exciting tighten in her stomach.

It's not supposed to be sexy, she supposes, but it God, it is.

His shirt—which is much thinner than it looks—clings to him, outlining every curve and dip of the muscles in his stomach. His jeans ride low on his hips, weighed down by the water. Almost in slow motion, he pushes a hand through his hair, sliding the wet and matted down strands out of his face.

Who knew rain could be such aphrodisiac? Then again, it's Nathan, and she's been fighting to keep her desire for him at bay since she laid eyes on him.

Nathan notices her staring, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Everything inside of her ignites.

"I should go find some candles. It looks like the power's out."

Despite his words, he stays rooted in his spot, watching her watch him, her eyes appreciating the sight in front her with a slow fierceness. It's so simply erotic, she can't explain it.

Landing back on his face, her self-control snaps. The look in his eyes is an unfiltered desire for her. Her heart takes off on a high-speed chase, her labored breathing matching the rhythm of his.

Before she can overthink her boldness, she grabs his hand, pulling him towards her.

"No," she protests. "I like it like this."

Even in the minimal light, she sees the spark in his eyes and the way his lips part in anticipation.

His hands go to her hips, tickling her before lifting her on to the nearby granite counter. Her fingers hook in his shirt, dragging him until he's standing in between her legs, hands on her hips, and a smirk on his face.

"It's kind of hot when you take control," he murmurs, brushing his nose along hers. The timber in his voice is intoxicating, stoking her desire.

She doesn't respond with words. Her leg hooks over his hip, drawing him closer and slides her lips against his. The kiss rides the fine line between delicate and hasty like they can't get enough but are still trying to maintain some kind of virtue.

Her nails scrape over his scalp, ignoring the water that flings off his hair but revealing in his moans. He presses against her and she feels how hard he is just from their kissing — another stoke to the flame. The intoxication that occurs whenever she kisses him filters through her veins, making her feel dizzy with need and…love.

He detaches from her mouth several seconds later, leaning his forehead against hers. The sound of the heavy rain pattering against the roof mixes with the sound of their ragged breathing—the perfect soundtrack.

"What?" she wonders after a beat of silence. The way he is staring at her is new, yet so familiar at the same time. The dark and uninhibited lust that's burning in his eyes softens at the edges, giving way to something so intense it robs her of breath.

His stare only intensifies. Every nerve in her body is a tight coil, the pounding of her heart matching the rhythm of the rain.

"What?" she asks again, this time timid.

The hand on her hip slips up her body, palming her cheek. The pads of his fingers massage the back of her neck, matching the movement of his thumb against her cheek. She holds her breath, waiting for him to say whatever is going through his mind.

"I love you."

Those three simple words leave his mouth and her whole world shifts on its axis. It's a husky declaration, said in a whisper of a voice as if the words were only ever intended for her and no one else.

When someone tells you that they're in love with you and you reciprocate those feelings…it changes you, just like she knew it would.

"I love you, too."

Her response is the easiest thing she's ever had to say, the words slipping off of her tongue and pressing against a smile.

His answering smile is euphoric. Warmth envelopes her, igniting every emotion one person could feel at once inside of her.

Applying a slight pressure to the back of her neck, he angles her forward, kissing her in a way he hasn't before. His lips move against hers in a slow caress and she can practically feel all of his love for her seeping over her skin and into her heart. She clings on to him like her life depends on it as his fingers pressing into her neck and the curve of her hip become more urgent.

Her shaky hands slide beneath his shirt, her fingers tracing over the wet contours of his stomach. Nathan shivers against her, a low groan vibrating against her lips. She pushes his shirt up further, continuing her delicate skimming. Nathan pulls away from her, allowing her the space to remove his shirt.

His shirt lands on the floor next to them with a plop.

She drags her nails down his torso, admiring the perfectly cut lines in his stomach. Years of rigorous work-outs have been more than kind to him. The new bruise on his side isn't as bad as she expected, but the sight is still jarring.

She trails her fingers over the bruise, suppressing a smile at the way his skin shudders beneath her touch.

"Does this hurt?"

She looks up to see his eyes closed. He doesn't look pained, but…is that pleasure she sees? He takes in a sharp breath when her tracing travels lower. She keeps her strokes light, but firm, listening intently to his uneven breathing.

"N-no," he stammers. "What you're doing feels…good."

It's not a new feeling, but it always hits her hard how much she wants him.

"Take me to the bedroom?"

His lips are swollen, wet and his eyes are dazed. "Yeah?"

She bites down on her lip, nodding. He traces her face with his eyes, searching and prodding, for what, she's not sure. When he finds or doesn't find, what he's looking for, he smiles. It's a timid, nervous smile…like he feels the same shift in energy around them. It calms her a bit, knowing that he's not as suave as he normally is when it comes to sex.

A shrill giggle escapes her when his arms bend around her waist, lifting her from the counter. Her legs go around his waist as her arms curl around his wide shoulders. It amazes her how easily he can navigate through the beach house in the dark, never once bumping into a wall or table.

She recognizes the room they walk into—it's the same one she led him to after finding him in the bathroom, shards of glass and blood everywhere. It seems fitting that the place she realized she was in love with him is the same place they take their relationship to the next level.

Nathan gently sets her down on the bed, a pillowy softness surrounds her. He places his knee on the outside of her hip and a spark of adrenaline has her sitting up, shaky fingers gripping the leather of his belt. Blood rushes in her ears, apprehension and excitement waging a war inside of her.

The metal clasp loosening from his belt is loud—he doesn't stop her. As soon as she pulls the leather strip through the belt loops of his jeans and discards it, she feels his fingers on the bottom of her shirt. She nods at the question in his eyes, lifting her arms up. It takes a couple of tugs—the wet material of her shirt sticking to her body stubbornly—before he pulls it over her head and discards it. The wet plop is overshadowed by a roll of thunder.

She takes the extra plunge, ignoring the wild thumping of her heart, and unhooks her black cotton bra. Dragging it down her arms, her eyes never leaving the intense gaze of Nathan's. Goosebumps erupt on her skin, both from the insecurity and the intense way he's watching her.

Before she can register what's happening, her back is against the comforter, Nathan's body pressing her into the mattress. His one hand is cupping her jaw, the other one sliding down her body. He kisses her neck, down the side of her throat to her collarbone. He sucks, licks, and nips in just the right places—her breathing coming out in harsh pants, mixing with sighs and moans of pleasure.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs into her collarbone, sliding further down her bottom.

"Nathan," she moans, her back arching off the bed and her hands getting lost in his damp hair. He's touching her and kissing her everywhere, it seems. His skin hot against hers, his muscles shaking and tensing.

She supposes that the wetness transferring from their bodies to the bedding will be uncomfortable later, but right now it barely registers.

Her stomach flutters as he kisses down her navel, her teeth making a permanent imprint on her bottom lip. He keeps looking up at her through his thick eyelashes, making her squirm and ache for him in a way she didn't think was possible.

Every muscle in her body tenses when his fingers trace over the button on her jean shorts. His hot breath fans across her stomach, her skin tightening into more goosebumps.

"It's okay," she tells him. He's being so attentive and gentle, not pushing or pulling too hard. He's allowing everything to be on her terms and it makes her love him even more.

Her eyes, on their own accord, squeeze shut as he loosens the button, pulling the zipper down. She tries to control her breathing, staring at the ceiling. She suddenly feels Nathan stop, the bed dipping as he crawls back on top of her.

"Haley," his concerned voice cuts through her haze. He fades into view, forehead crinkled and brows knitted together. "Are you okay? We can stop."

She doesn't want to stop. She's just…she's never been naked in front of…anyone before. What if…what if she's not what expects? He's been with Brooke and who knows who else, and what if she doesn't measure up?

It's stupid, she realizes that, but she can't help it. Nathan has heatedly told her so many times what he thinks of her body and how beautiful he thinks she is, but it's so hard to focus on those things. Especially when the insecure voices in her head are much louder than the voices of freedom.

"I'm…fine," she stammers. "I just…It's silly."

Nathan shakes his head. "Tell me."

She inhales shakily—she doesn't know how to tell him without sounding insane.

"I'm worried that…you've been with Brooke and she…I'm afraid that you won't like what you see. Or that, I won't be good enough."

The words burn in her throat—the absolute vulnerability she's showing is the equivalent to lying naked in front of him.

He presses his lips against hers in a sweet yet, deep kiss, leaving her breathless. When he pulls away, he rubs a thumb along her cheekbone, locking his gaze on hers.

"I've never felt with her or anyone else the way I feel whenever I catch even a sight of you."

The conviction in his voice is startling in the best way.

"I trust you," she whispers, urging him to finish what he started.

His hands return to her shorts, tugging them and her panties down her legs. She lifts her hips off the bed to aid his movements.

Her heated skin feels cool and slippery against the damp bed. Butterflies attack her insides, the beating of her heart unbelievably loud.

She resists the urge to run. To grab a pillow or the comforter and cover her body with it. But she lets Nathan's previous words take control in her mind, forcing all of the other thoughts to the back of her mind. Muting them.

"You're perfect," he breathes, smirking when a deep blush spreads across the upper half of her body. He stares at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, stoking another wave of desire in her.

"Take yours off," she hastily demands, cringing at the way her voice wavers.

He chuckles roughly but does as she asks. He crawls off her body, standing in front of her at the edge of the bed. She runs a hand through her hair, the heaving of her chest matching the heaving of his. Her eyes follow his hands, watching the veins in his arms contract.

It takes some trick maneuvering to pull his damp jeans down his legs, but he manages. Bolts of lightning streak the sky, illuminating the dark room. He seems to glow, even more perfect than she imagined he would be. Her eyes travel the length of his body, her cheeks burning.

Watching what she does to him wipes away her hesitation, her embarrassment. Her intrusive thoughts—the ones that run through her mind like a news crawl on the bottom of a TV screen—fall silent to their breathing.

He joins her back on the bed, all the curves of her body mold to the strength of his. A sigh expels from her while a heated expletive slips from Nathan's mouth. The skin on skin contact is explosive. One of his hands rests against the pillow beside her head, the other one tangling in her hair.

"I love you," he repeats huskily and that same euphoria washes over her. "And it's a big deal."

She swallows thickly.

"It scares me." An indrawn breath has her skin prickling. "God, it scares me. But I…"

Nathan trails off and Haley finds herself nodding. "I understand the feeling."

It's only been her every thought since she realized just how much he means to her.

Even though she never gave much thought to how she would lose her virginity, she never would have guessed her body would be slick with rain, a raging storm rattling the walls of Nathan's beach house. But it's perfect.

"Are you sure that you want this?" His voice is thick, clouded like he's using the little bit of restraint he has left.

"I want this," she replies, breath hitching in her throat. Her nerves are on high alert, her body buzzing. But she wants him. She's ready. "I want you. Are you…are you sure?"

His mouth slopes into a lazy half-smile. "You know how much I want you."

Suddenly he pauses, realization washing over his face and a bit of panic. "I don't have a—"

"Don't worry about it."

He looks at her in a way that she can only describe as shock and confusion.

She giggles. "I'm on birth control."

His shock and confusion only grow, his eyebrow arching higher.

She giggles again, waving her hand dismissively. "It's a period thing. I've been on it for a little over a year."

He appears content with her explanation, and she moves to speed things up. She feels like she's about to explode. Parting her thighs, she hooks them loosely over his hips, pressing him against her.

"Fuck," he groans, shaking.

"Just…be gentle," she requests, lightly scratching her nails over his biceps. She's heard from friends and even read about first times and how they hurt. But she's not scared, because she knows that Nathan is going to do everything he can to make this enjoyable for her.

He brushes his lips against hers. "I couldn't imagine being anything else."

He's slow and tender as he settles himself inside of her. It doesn't hurt as bad as she expected—a pinch of pain followed by a hard to ignore discomfort. Her nails dig into the round tops of his biceps, eyes wide and breathing heavy.

In a symbolic way, it feels bigger than what it is like their relationship is solidified in a new way.

"Shit, you feel so good," Nathan pants, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes are scrunched in pleasure, but the concern he has for her is as strong as ever.

She whimpers, angling her neck to brush her lips against his parted ones. She needs him to move, to do something. "Please."

He seems to understand exactly what she needs by her small whimper of a request. The draw and rock of his hips are easy, everything else melting away. Much quicker than she thought, the discomfort melts into pleasure. She follows the instincts of her body, lifting her hips to meet his.

"Oh, God," she moans when he shifts the angle of his hips. She can't look away from his face, watching in rapture how she makes him feel. His sighs and moans wash over her, tightening the coil in her stomach.

"Baby," he breathes, skimming his lips over the edge of her jaw, to the corner of her mouth. When his lips cover hers, it's visceral and passionate, like he can't get enough of her.

His hand grips her hip roughly, the pads of his fingers making firm indents into her skin. He hitches her leg further up his body and she gasps at the sensation, ripping her mouth from his. His movements are sloppy and desperate, and she can't tell where her body ends and his begins.

"I love you," she murmurs, kissing the side of his neck, his chest, his shoulders…anything that she can reach.

It's all clichés she's ever read about—the white noise filling her ears, the array of colors splashing behind her tightly squeezed eyelids. Her back arches, the muscles in her body contracting. His name falls off her lips and somewhere in the haze, he goes rigid against her, her name panted like a prayer.

His head drops into the crook her neck, breath puffing against the damp skin of her neck—this time sweat instead of rain. His arms slide up her body, banding around her torso and holding her tight against him. She tracks her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck, giggling when he purrs against her neck.

The rain is still pounding away, lightning and thunder taking turns in the spotlight. But she feels calmer than she's ever felt, like jell-o. It's a feeling that she wants to live in forever.