"Miley," he whispered, his eyes sparkling intensely.
I breathed in heavily and let it out. Wow.
He took at step closer to me, and handed me the sweatshirt. I put it on, taking it everything of it: the smell of his cologne, the bulky but soft cotton, him. I dropped my umbrella and went closer to him, feeling my insides erupt and happiness start to revolve through my heart. He dropped his own umbrella, at this point, thundering occurred, forcing rain to come down even harder, crushing his curls. He slid his hands around my waist, pushing me into his chest. I put my forehead against his and cuddled against his face. Our lips brushed. Our noses brushed. His fingers made small circles on my waist.
"Wait, wait, wait, Nick, wait, wait, Nick," I struggled to say, exasperated.
"What?" He whispered.
"How….How'd you know I was coming? What are we doing?"
By now, the rain was pouring down on us, leaving us both soaking wet. His jeans were soaked, and were rubbing against my bare thighs.
I leaned against him more, and he said "Joe told me you called, and I just had a feeling."
"Well, what are we supposed to do?" I whimpered.
"Come with me."
Nick tugged at my arm, and as cliché as it sounds, I begged and begged for him to spill to me where the hell we were going.
"It's raining and what are you doing? All we need is stupid paparazzi to follow us. Nick, seriously," I shouted.
He turned around and pulled me in by the hips, "You just need to stop talking and then I'm happy."
He continued on until we came to a beach. We were definitely not in Toluca Lake anymore, hell, I don't even remember leaving the gated community.
The beach looked beautiful, like all of them in California. He pulled me to the shore, and everything became full of peace and warmth. He took a step back behind me and wrapped his arms around my torso.
"What are you doing? We haven't even gotten to talk, you know. We can't just make out romantically in the water and have everything be fine, Nick."
He shook his head.
I stared at him. He took his sweatshirt off, then his shirt. Then, he fiddled at the zipper of his pants, leaving him in a pair of plaid boxers. He ran his fingers through his hair and ran to the water. He jumped in.
"What the hell, Nick? It's raining and it's freezing outside! You're gonna get so sick!"
"Come in with me, Miley!"
"Are you out of your mind?"
I sat down in the sand, next to his clothes. His clothing smelled like him. I lied down, feeling gross and wet. I pulled off the sweatshirt he gave me earlier, and my shirt too. I shrugged off my skirt, and unbuckled my boots. I ran into the water. There he was, Prince Charming, muscly arms open and ready to catch me. And, so, I responded. I jumped into his arms.