Boston. Henry. He’s pretty into me.”
“Don’t lead him on, then,” Sam said. He put his face down in the warm hollow next to my neck inside the jade-colored scarf and rubbed me with that smooth-rough beard, sending shivers of delightful feeling through my body and straight south to the action zone. “Don’t waste his time. Because you’re going to be mine now.” He kissed me then, in that conversational way he had, as if there was all the time in the world for him to invade my every corner with his big, bluff, warm, irrepressible self and persuasive tongue.
“I’ll think about it,” I said when I came up for air. For a minute those golden-brown Viking eyes blazed like a hawk’s, and then he laughed.
“You’re a tricky little virgin,” he said, and squeezed my butt with a big warm hand. “I can see I’m going to have to bring my A game if I’m going to chase off these other guys.”
I looked down and shuffled my snowy boots. “I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m at Northeastern University for the studying.”
“Uh-huh.” Disbelief permeated his reply.
We walked on as I tried to explain. “And the virgin thing. So embarrassing, but it’s only because I grew up religious. I guess it still matters, because I want my first time to be—special.” I kicked the snow ahead of my impractical secondhand boots. “I want to be in love. And have it mean something. But I’m not waiting for marriage or anything.”
“In love. Meaningful. Special. It’s good to have a dream,” he said laconically, and I socked him again, and he made me chase him and then gave me a piggyback ride, and for the rest of the walk back we talked all about school, what we were studying and what our plans were for the next year.
Somehow I felt like something had been decided, and spoken, but I wasn’t sure what it was.
* * *
The next week flew by. Sean went back to his hospital residency, a miserable-looking ordeal, and Shellie and Sam made it their business to show me all over the city, taking me on the ferry to Ellis Island, to visit the World Trade Center, to ride the carousel in Central Park, and to attend The Nutcracker ballet with the whole family. It was wonderful.
And in the back of it all, somewhere buried in my mind, was Rafe’s voice. I have to see you. Come to California. Could I be so crazy as to listen to that voice?
We were taking the train back to Boston the day after the New Year, and on New Year’s Eve the three of us watched the ball drop in person in Times Square, and I screamed with excitement as it became 1989, and at the turn of the year Sam kissed me so hard it split my lip. I didn’t care, caught up in the revelry, excitement, and warmth, not to mention a few too many sips off of his silver flask of single-malt scotch. I was touched when he kissed the sore spot on my mouth until it felt better than any fat lip ever had.
But the next morning I felt like I was playing a familiar scene as Sam said goodbye. He had to leave for football team workouts and early strategy meetings at Cornell. He pressed his address and phone number into my hand and told me to write. “I’m serious. I want to see you when we can. Spring break, you’re coming back to New York with Shellie, and we’ll go on a real date.”
I shrugged, trying for flippant. “Shellie tells me you’re a player in more than one way, so don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He set a little silver box in my hand, his golden eyes as intent as they’d ever been. “Open this and see how serious I am.”
I was terrified but I opened it, relieved to see a beautiful diamond-encrusted heart on a platinum chain, not a ring of any sort. “I love it. Wow.”
He took the necklace out of the box, impatiently pushing my heavy hair out of the way and clumsy with the tiny clasp, but he eventually fastened it around my neck. My head bent before him and neck exposed must have proved tempting because he bit and sucked my neck, giving me
“Don’t lead him on, then,” Sam said. He put his face down in the warm hollow next to my neck inside the jade-colored scarf and rubbed me with that smooth-rough beard, sending shivers of delightful feeling through my body and straight south to the action zone. “Don’t waste his time. Because you’re going to be mine now.” He kissed me then, in that conversational way he had, as if there was all the time in the world for him to invade my every corner with his big, bluff, warm, irrepressible self and persuasive tongue.
“I’ll think about it,” I said when I came up for air. For a minute those golden-brown Viking eyes blazed like a hawk’s, and then he laughed.
“You’re a tricky little virgin,” he said, and squeezed my butt with a big warm hand. “I can see I’m going to have to bring my A game if I’m going to chase off these other guys.”
I looked down and shuffled my snowy boots. “I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m at Northeastern University for the studying.”
“Uh-huh.” Disbelief permeated his reply.
We walked on as I tried to explain. “And the virgin thing. So embarrassing, but it’s only because I grew up religious. I guess it still matters, because I want my first time to be—special.” I kicked the snow ahead of my impractical secondhand boots. “I want to be in love. And have it mean something. But I’m not waiting for marriage or anything.”
“In love. Meaningful. Special. It’s good to have a dream,” he said laconically, and I socked him again, and he made me chase him and then gave me a piggyback ride, and for the rest of the walk back we talked all about school, what we were studying and what our plans were for the next year.
Somehow I felt like something had been decided, and spoken, but I wasn’t sure what it was.
* * *
The next week flew by. Sean went back to his hospital residency, a miserable-looking ordeal, and Shellie and Sam made it their business to show me all over the city, taking me on the ferry to Ellis Island, to visit the World Trade Center, to ride the carousel in Central Park, and to attend The Nutcracker ballet with the whole family. It was wonderful.
And in the back of it all, somewhere buried in my mind, was Rafe’s voice. I have to see you. Come to California. Could I be so crazy as to listen to that voice?
We were taking the train back to Boston the day after the New Year, and on New Year’s Eve the three of us watched the ball drop in person in Times Square, and I screamed with excitement as it became 1989, and at the turn of the year Sam kissed me so hard it split my lip. I didn’t care, caught up in the revelry, excitement, and warmth, not to mention a few too many sips off of his silver flask of single-malt scotch. I was touched when he kissed the sore spot on my mouth until it felt better than any fat lip ever had.
But the next morning I felt like I was playing a familiar scene as Sam said goodbye. He had to leave for football team workouts and early strategy meetings at Cornell. He pressed his address and phone number into my hand and told me to write. “I’m serious. I want to see you when we can. Spring break, you’re coming back to New York with Shellie, and we’ll go on a real date.”
I shrugged, trying for flippant. “Shellie tells me you’re a player in more than one way, so don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He set a little silver box in my hand, his golden eyes as intent as they’d ever been. “Open this and see how serious I am.”
I was terrified but I opened it, relieved to see a beautiful diamond-encrusted heart on a platinum chain, not a ring of any sort. “I love it. Wow.”
He took the necklace out of the box, impatiently pushing my heavy hair out of the way and clumsy with the tiny clasp, but he eventually fastened it around my neck. My head bent before him and neck exposed must have proved tempting because he bit and sucked my neck, giving me
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