"Mom, help," my pleas were broken with laughter. I tried to squirm away when one of his hands released me to turn on the sink. "Evan!”

He squeezed the sprayer on the faucet and doused me over the head as I broke free. My mother and Jonathan hid behind either side of the doorway to get out of the way. By the time I was out of range, I was dripping wet.

"Now that's funny," Evan’s laughter was echoed by Jonathan and my mother.

"Thanks for your help," I sulked, looking down at my drenched t-shirt.

"What? And be soaked like you?" my mother chuckled.

"Nice, Evan," Jonathan admired. "Next time, you're on my team." I shook my head and dripped up the stairs.

I returned a few minutes later with a dry t-shirt and my wet hair pulled back. Evan was helping wipe up the water in the kitchen.

"You missed a spot," I teased.

He turned toward me and grinned, taking in my wet hair. "No I didn't."

"Oh, you're so funny," I smirked. "Ready to go?"

"Where are you going?" my mother asked, taking the wet towel from Evan.

"To Evan's."

"Really?" Evan confirmed, obviously not aware of the plan.

I nodded.

"Okay, to my house then."

"I'll be back later," I announced, pulling my jacket out of the closet.

"Good luck," my mother offered, making me hesitate before leaving, suddenly understanding what she meant. Maybe we should've stayed after all.

"Are you okay?" Evan asked when he saw my face drop.

"Yeah," I choked. "I just thought I forgot something." I grumbled under my breath, walking out onto the porch, "But unfortunately I didn't."

"You didn't want to stay?" Evan asked when we entered the car. "Looked like you guys were having a good time."

"Yeah," I said, distracted. "But I haven't seen you all week, so I wanted to be alone with you." Or I did, I thought.

By the time we arrived at Evan's, my stomach had twisted to the point of nausea.

"Are you okay?" he asked, examining me intently when we entered the rec room. I could only imagine how pale I was.

"No," I blurted before I even took my jacket off. I released a deep breath and confessed what I’d rehearsed a thousand times on our way over. “You’re going to hear this tomorrow, so I’m just going to say it.” I strangled my hands as he leaned against the back of the couch, waiting. “I went to a party at Drew’s. I didn't know we were going there, and I never would have gone if I'd known we were. I'm sorry.”

I let the shock of it settle in, but his mouth curved up and the concern in his eyes disappeared.

“Why are you looking like that?”

“That’s it?” he questioned, unfazed.

“Yes, I mean no,” I answered guiltily, not understanding his comical expression. “He ended up driving me home because Casey took off, but nothing happened―I swear.”

“I know,” he answered casually, taking off his jacket and flinging it on the back of the couch.

I studied him, not understanding why he appeared so calm while the nerves in my stomach were about to devour me.

“You know?”

He stood in front of me with his hands on my waist. “Emma, I trust you. I’m not worried about what party you go to at whoever’s house, even Drew’s. Was he a dick to you?”

“No,” I answered, still in shock.

"Good," he stated with a kiss on the top of my head. He continued to the pool table and began pulling out the balls from the pockets.

I shook my head and mouthed, “Where did you come from?”

“What?” he laughed.

“How did I end up with you? I mean, my life’s so messed up and then…” I kept shaking my head in wonderment. “And then there’s... you. I couldn’t have made you up if I’d tried.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” he replied racking the pool balls with a sparkling smile. While I was still gawking at him, he walked over and wrapped his arms around me. “Most of your life wasn’t your decision. You didn’t get to decide who your parents were, that your dad was going to pass when you were young, or that you'd end up with…” His jaw tightened slightly, and he couldn’t finish. “Those weren’t your choices.

“The things you do get to choose, you put everything you have into them―school, sports, protecting the people you care about. And you chose me.”

Warmth fluttered through my chest. I had a hard time meeting his eyes.

“So your life is not messed up…” Evan paused, placing his forehead on mine, demanding my attention. "You've actually done a pretty amazing job at living it." He kissed me gently and pulled me into him.

"I love you," I murmured into his chest, holding him tighter. I tilted my head back and met his steel blue eyes.

"That I know too," he smirked, causing my mouth to drop open.

"Nice," I shot back, pushing him away. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back against him.

"I love you too," he whispered before tilting his head toward me.

I closed my eyes and felt the warmth of his breath on my lips just before they pressed into mine. I inhaled deeply at the touch of them, flutters instantly rushing through my chest. He ran his hand along the back of my neck, his mouth slipping across my parted lips.

My heart raced and my breath quickened as I pulled him into me. He unzipped my jacket and slid it off, dropping it on the table. The tease of his lips along my neck captured my breath as I hopped up onto the side of the pool table and wrapped my legs around him.

He slid his hands under me and picked me up, balancing me while walking toward the couch, our mouths frantically passing over the other's. My entire body was pulsing. He laid me on the couch and eased himself over me.

I ran my hands under his sweater and he pulled back to remove it. I sat up to run my lips along the hard lines of his chest, before pulling my t-shirt over my head. Evan grabbed the blanket at the end of the couch and pulled it over us as I reached for his waistband.

My quickened pulse stirred a heat that crept through my entire body. We eased across boundaries, unfastening bindings, slipping beneath fabric. Our lips brushed in a breathless exchange.

Our mouths pressed harder; our breath grew faster as our hands slid along curves. He inhaled quickly at my caress, his heart beating against my bare skin. His breathing quickened, and his muscles flexed along his back, the tension rippling through his entire body as he groaned in my ear. I gasped when he found me, closing my eyes. A flush swept across my skin at his gentle touch. I writhed under the growing sensation until I was released with an exhilarated breath.

Evan pulled the blanked tighter around us, exhaling deeply. "Wow."

"Yeah," I breathed, still unable to focus clearly. I tucked myself into his arm and rested my head on his chest, draping my leg over his. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he said, running his warm hand along my back.

"When are we going to have sex?"

"Umm..." Evan laughed. "I wasn't expecting that question."

I popped my head up to look at him. "I'm not saying that I don't like what we just did, it's just―"

"I know," he smiled. "We will. It's a big deal, and I don't want to do it on the couch in the garage, or in the backseat of a car. I want it to be what it should be."

"What if it's horrible?" I sulked, resting my chin on his chest. “I have no idea what I’m doing. You want it to be this epic moment, and I’m afraid I’m going to fail miserably.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Evan consoled with a small laugh. "I'm not worried." He released a calming breath and repeated, "Believe me, I'm not worried." He put his hand under my chin to pull me in for a kiss.

Despite his lack of concern regarding my sexual prowess, I was worried. No matter how much I tried not to let it consume me, it was all I could think about. I'd only been waiting for it to happen, since well... forever.

My phone rang as I lay on my bed later that night, waiting for Sara to respond to my text. I quickly pressed Answer.

“What’s going on?” Sara demanded before I could say hi.

“How was Cornell?” I asked, suddenly regretting sending the text.

“Shut up, Em,” Sara shot back. “Your text said you needed my help. What’s going on?”

After gathering myself, I finally stated bluntly, “Sara, I want to have sex.”

"Well, of course you do," she responded like I'd said the most obvious thing in the world.

“But what if I’m terrible at it?”

Sara started laughing hysterically. I hung up the phone. She called back ten seconds later.

“Sorry,” she offered calmly. “You’re serious. I thought you were having one of your delusional episodes.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Emma, you and Evan love each other, so there isn’t a wrong way of doing this. But I’ll give you some pointers if you want.”

I let out a short nervous laugh, the anxiety in my stomach squirming. “Maybe.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t draw diagrams or anything. Oh, or maybe I should.”

“Sara!”

“Emma, don't you dare act all embarrassed to talk about it,” she scolded. “I’m not the one to be telling anyone to have or not to have sex, but if you can't even talk about it with me, then maybe you're not ready. I know this is huge for you, and you of all people need to be emotionally prepared for it.”

“I know," I replied. "I mean, I'm ready―I think. What do you mean by emotionally prepared?"

“Well, you don’t trust… anyone, really. You barely trust me and Evan. And having sex is all trust. You can’t take it back once you do it, and it leaves you completely emotionally vulnerable. You trust him totally and completely, right?”

“Of course,” I answered automatically. How could I not trust Evan? Especially after everything we'd been through.

“Emma,” Sara scolded, “do you? No matter what’s happening in your life, however complicated and personal, you’d trust him with it?”

I wasn't sure why I hesitated, but a streak of panic flicked through me at the thought of being completely open with anyone, even Evan.

"Yes," I answered, without as much conviction.

“That’s what I thought,” she said honing in on the waver in my voice. “I’m not saying don’t have sex. I want you to. It’s amazing. I just want you to go into this completely aware of what happens to you after you put your clothes back on.”

“Thanks,” I sighed, feeling a little deflated. “See you in the morning?”

“Yes,” she replied enthusiastically. “I have so much to tell you!”

We said our good-byes and hung up.

I stared at the ceiling, contemplating trust. Evan was the most trustworthy person I knew. I believed in him, knowing he would never not be there for me. But when Sara asked if I trusted him enough to tell him my most personal secrets, I choked.




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