Chapter Eighteen

But he knew me better. As I turned away, his lips brushed against my hair. His hand came to my chin, and he forcefully turned my face to his. He knew what he wanted, knew what I needed. He knew that even if I was scared, it didn't matter.

His lips crashed against mine in repressed longing. His touched was caressing, tender, possessive. As I opened my mouth, he entered and explored the crevices of my mouth. His hands powerfully gripped my back, and neither of us could have pulled away.

I was wishing that he was my first kiss, because his meant so much more to me than any other kiss I'd experienced. I wish I'd saved my lips for him, so there would be no chance of ever forgetting his touch. Though it didn't seem likely.

His lips slid from my mouth to my neck, covering it in kisses. I gasped as he made me feel things I'd never felt before. His lips went back to my mouth, and we kissed again. Kissing had never, ever been like this. Nothing had ever been like this.

Timidly I let my hands explore his back, and wind through his dark hair. One of my hand ran over his rippling stomach muscles, so hard from his basketball training. John's hadn't been nearly as impressive.

Suddenly I broke away from him, panting roughly. His eyes opened lazily and met mine. He smiled down at me.

"We can't do this," I said.

"What?"

"We can't. We've been friends for too long," I said, my practical side taking over my desire of him.

"Callie, were you here just now? Did you feel that kiss? How did it make you feel?" he asked. He put one arm around my waist and the other on my heart.

"It's wrong. We can't do this," I said.

"We have to do this. I've never felt those things before. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you right now. I think I've been in love with you my entire life."

"No. You're a player, I'm a slut. Neither of us can handle a relationship. I can't just have this with you. I won't lose you," I swore.

"You won't. I'll be yours forever," he promised.

"I've always been yours," I said, my heart speaking ahead of my mine. He kissed me lightly again.

"You've got to stop running from this. I need to be with you. I want to do things with you that I've never done before," he said.

"Sawyer, I'm a virgin. And you're most assuredly not," I pointed out.

"No. I want to spend real time with you. I can be exclusive with you. And if you want to wait, we'll wait. That isn't all I want," he promised.

"What, you don't think I'm desirable?" I said. He raised his eyebrows.

"Callie, I want all that. You know this, but if you're not ready I'd never forgive myself. Having you here with me is enough."

"Your parents said these things to each other. Your mom ran away for a year, and she was a pregnant teenager," I pointed out.

"Yet they're one of the happiest couples I know. Along with your parents, also married teenagers. It doesn't always have to work out badly," he said.

"But it usually does."

"It doesn't have to," he said softly. I jerked away slightly, but he pulled me back into him. I could feel him smell my scented hair.

"Wait, are you asking me to marry you?" I asked in alarm.

"No, I'm merely suggesting that I don't think I can ever be with anyone else," he said.

"You've never been with me."

"Callie Jagielski, I've been with you my entire life," he said. He leaned down to kiss me again, and I allowed him to.

An hour later we left in our cars. He trailed me all the way home, and as I burst in through my front door I was entirely drained of energy.

Late at night I couldn't sleep. I got up to examine myself in the mirror. I felt so different, as though I'd been born again. How could I still look the same? How could the world still be the same?

I pushed down my shirt to examine the telltale reddish mark on my neck. I'd never received such a mark. I'd have to cover it up, to hide the truth from Jenny.

I wrapped my dressing gown around myself and padded downstairs as a heavy knock sounded on the front door. My parents joined me there, deprived of sleep. I rested against Daddy as Mom moved to answer the front door.

Lucas Scott stood in our doorway, leaning against the frame. I saw Mom cock her head at him, surprised that he'd turned up at one in the morning.

"Luke, what are you doing here?" asked Dad.

"I have something I have to say," he said. Mom glanced backwards at me, and I realized in an agonizing moment that he was going to declare his feelings for her.

"Luke, don't," she begged.

"No, it's not that. It's just that it's um… possible that Callie's my child," he admitted.