Boys Like You Page 19

  Sure, I thought I’d been in love with Rachel, but now I knew different. Now I’d felt and touched real love. Real love was full of emotion—it wasn’t just about the physical stuff, getting laid or making out.

  Emotion and love together? It changed things.

  “I’ve never…” Her eyes slid away from mine. “I’ve never done it before.”

  I’d suspected Monroe was a virgin, and the enormity of what she was giving me pressed into my chest and I ran my hands through my hair, because in that moment, I didn’t know what to do.

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you.” She sounded anxious. Scared.

  I took the two steps needed to reach her and slid my hands into her hair, holding her so that there was nowhere for her to look but at me.

  “God, Monroe. Don’t apologize. Don’t apologize for being you. For being the most incredible girl I’ve ever met.” She was everything to me. “I love you.”

  “Then kiss me,” she said softly, standing on her toes to reach me.

  I kissed her for the longest time. Holding her softness against me as my head spun crazily and my heart tried like hell to keep up.

  Things got heavy. They got wicked heavy.

  We were on my bed. My T-shirt was on the floor.

  Monroe felt so damn good, and when she rolled over on top of me, I was nearly out of my mind. Her long hair was all over the place, her pale skin smooth in the dim light. Her mouth was swollen from my kisses, her cheeks flushed and rosy.

  She was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, and when she slowly reached behind her neck, I froze.

  We were both breathing pretty hard by this point, and I couldn’t look away as she undid her halter top and slowly peeled it away.

  Nothing but my ragged breaths filled the air.

  She straddled me and moved her hips slightly and I groaned. “Jesus, Monroe.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her, and when she bent forward to lie against me, to press her softness into me, I think I might have died a little.

  My hands crept up her bare back and I held her there, fighting for some kind of control.

  I banged my head back into the pillow and swore under my breath.

  “Nate?” she whispered into my neck. “Don’t stop.”

  I turned my head and grimaced, fighting for some kind of control because things were moving fast and she felt way too damn good in my arms.

  “Nate? Don’t you want…me?”

  I inhaled a deep breath and reached for her, cupping her jaw so that I could stare into her eyes. I didn’t say anything. My mind was searching for the right words, so for a long time, I held her. I held her until her breathing slowed, and eventually, so did mine.

  “Tell me it’s not just me who feels this connection,” I finally said, needing to hear her say the words.

  “No,” she whispered. “It’s not just you, Nate.”

  “Have you felt like this before?”

  She shook her head no but didn’t answer.

  “This connection that we have, Monroe. It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.” I had to try to make her understand. “And we have to work to keep it strong. Things are going to be tough with you back in New York, but we can make it work.”

  “Okay…”

  “No, I need you to listen. There is no okay. There is no right or wrong here. I don’t want to do anything to make you regret me. To make you regret us.”

  “I could never regret us. I want this, Nate. I want to know what it feels like to belong to someone. To belong to you. In every way possible.”

  God, to hear her say those words.

  I searched her face. I looked into her eyes until my own blurred and I couldn’t see shit.

  “Are you sure that you want to…”

  But her mouth was on mine and there were no more words. There was only the taste of her lips, the feel of her tongue, and her body against mine. Hands seeking and legs entwined.

  I held her as long as I could before I thought I was going to explode, and when she finally moved onto her back and reached for me, I was done for. I wanted her and I wanted to be her first.

  As corny as it sounded, I wanted to be her only guy.

  But most of all, I wanted to hold this feeling that we had inside me forever. And there in the dark, with Monroe in my arms, I tried to do just that.

  ***

  We fell asleep, and when I woke up with blankets tangled around my legs and a warm body cuddled against me, it was her eyes I saw staring up at me. Her eyes and her pink cheeks and that slow smile that got me in the chest every time.

  “Hey,” I said roughly, kind of choked up as the memories of the night before chased through my mind.

  “Hey,” she replied softly.

  I glanced toward my window. “Guess we’re in trouble, huh?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I texted my mother a couple of hours ago and told her we got held up and, uh, were stuck at Brent’s without a ride home.”

  “Shit, really?”

  “She was all about coming for me, but I told her that I’d be home for breakfast, and for whatever reason, she let it go.”

  Monroe exhaled a shaky breath and her lower lip trembled. “What if we don’t see each other again? What if you go back to school and fall into your old life and forget all about me? What if all of this slips by as if it never happened and I don’t get the chance to be with you again?”

  “That’s not gonna happen.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek. “How do you know?”

  I leaned my forehead against hers. “Because I promise it won’t.”

  A heartbeat passed between us.

  “Nathan?”

  “Huh?” I trailed kisses down her neck and it was hard for me to think straight. Hard for me to even hear the words she was saying.

  “I love you.”

  “I know.”

  “Nathan?”

  “Yeah, babe.” I was reaching for her mouth. Wanting one more taste.

  “Do you think we can do it one more time…you know, since we’re in trouble already?”

  After that, there was no more talking. After that, there was just the two of us, struggling to stay inside the little cocoon we’d created.

  And for now, that was good enough.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Monroe

  My gram told me once when I was eleven that I could do anything. She’d been very matter of fact as she poured us each an iced tea on a steamy afternoon.

  It was the kind of afternoon when the air sizzled and stuck to the insides of your clothes. The kind of afternoon that made your skin clammy and your muscles lazy. I remember that the birds were quiet but the locusts chimed like mini buzz saws.

  Funny, the things that you remember, and the things that you can’t forget no matter how hard you try.

  I think about that now and it seems so long ago.

  I’ve learned a lot since that summer. I’ve learned that tragedy can strike when you least expect it. That life can disappear.

  But I’ve also learned that life goes on. The world still turns, and every morning, the sun still rises. I learned that while pain and regret can burrow beneath your skin like a parasite, there is always hope.

  We just have to be patient and lucky enough to find it. Or if you’re like me, it finds you.

  Nathan Everets was my hope and I knew that I was his. He was right. Together we could do anything.

  It just sucked that our together was going to end in about ten minutes.

  “Flight 247, New Orleans to New York, now boarding.”

  The disembodied voice cut through my thoughts and I squeezed Nate’s hands. “That’s me.”

  We stood up and I watched Gram hug Mom and Dad before turning to me. Her silver hair caught a beam of light from the w
indows, and for a second, I thought she looked like an angel.

  An angel who dressed in pearls and linen like a real southern woman.

  Nate let go of my fingers and I flew into her arms, fighting the knot of emotion that clogged my throat.

  How could I express to my gram everything that I’d felt and experienced this summer? How could I tell her that I think she saved me? That she and Nathan had pretty much kept the crazy out of my head so that I could heal?

  “You take care of yourself, you hear?” Gram hugged me fiercely. “I love you so much, my little girl.”

  “I know.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly, pulling away.

  “What for?” I was barely able to get the words out.

  “For being strong enough to let me in.” She tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear and whispered, for my ears only. “And for catching Nathan.”

  “Monroe, we’ve got to board.”

  I nodded at my mother and watched my dad shake Nathan’s hand. The two of them moved off a few paces, and I waited for Nathan to come to me.

  “So,” he said huskily, “I guess this is it.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t speak because I was too afraid that if I tried to, I would burst into tears and things would get messy real fast.

  He gathered me into a hug, his mouth next to my ear. “We’ll talk every day.”

  Again I nodded.

  “Skype will be our best friend, right?”

  I sniffled. And nodded.

  “And when Trevor gets better, I’m bringing him to New York to meet you.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Monroe, we have to go.” My mom looked like she was going to cry, and I kissed Nathan, a soft, quick brush of my lips.

  “I love you,” I said with a smile, my eyes watery and on the verge of leaking like Niagara Falls.

  Nate blew out a long breath and gave me one final hug. Then he whispered, “See you soon.”

  I didn’t look back at him as I followed my parents to the boarding desk. I didn’t even look back before heading down the tunnel that took us onto our plane.

  I didn’t want to remember him standing in the airport lounge with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and his long, sun-kissed hair touching the tops of his shoulders.

  That, back there, was good-bye, and good-bye was no longer an option. Not in my world. I grinned. Not in my universe.

  Nope. Good-bye didn’t exist.

  ***

  A week before Christmas…

  December is a crazy month.

  School winds down. Parties seem to take up every weekend. Hanukkah. Christmas. Birthdays.

  Mine falls on the 20th, which was today, and I was glad my parents had let it go without a big deal. I really hated big deals. Besides, who had time for birthdays when there was still so much to do for the holidays?

  It was the Saturday before Christmas, and I’d spent most of it shopping with my best friend, Kate. We’d spent a small fortune on each other—it’s so much easier to do when we can pick out our own presents—and I had to search for the perfect gift for Gram.

  She was arriving in two days, and I couldn’t wait to see her.

  “Okay, I have, like, three bags of potato chips, cheese popcorn, and Skor chocolate. What do you want first?” Kate asked.

  I tossed a pillow at Kate and made a face. “And you wonder why you’ve got zits popping up on your chin.”

  “Junk food has nothing to do with it,” Kate grinned. “It’s called hormones.” She shoved a piece of chocolate in her mouth. “Speaking of hormones, when is Mr. Gorgeous Skyping this week?”

  My frown deepened. “He’s working late for his uncle on some big project. So maybe later tonight.”

  “Huh,” she said and flopped down beside me. “I have Love Actually or The Notebook.”

  I glanced over her shoulder. “Why don’t we do both?”

  The doorbell went and I yelled, “Mom, the McGills are here.”

  My parents were going to a Christmas party, so Kate and I had the night ahead of us, and we intended to eat ourselves into a stupor, high on chocolate and popcorn, and watch our favorite movies.

  The doorbell went again and I shoved off from the sofa. “Put the movie in, Kate. I’ll be right back.”

  We lived in a large, comfortable brownstone, but our living space went up, not out. This meant that the family/TV room was on the third floor, and by the time I got to the main level, I was breathing a little harder than I’d like.

  “Mom,” I yelled over my shoulder one more time before opening the door and standing back. It was cold out and snowy. I shivered and then froze. Like really froze. Like my entire body was as still as a deer in the headlights.

  I think that maybe my world tilted a little off center. Or the earth moved.

  Or maybe my reality had just fallen in on itself and I was in a different dimension. A dimension where my boyfriend—my hot, sweet, amazing boyfriend—was standing on the front stoop with huge, feathery snowflakes glistening in his hair.

  “Oh,” was all I managed to say.

  I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to be that girl who falls apart at the mere sight of the boy she loves.

  But holy hell, I was that girl.

  The tears started before I could stop them, and then his arms were around me. We were laughing and kissing and crying, and I didn’t want to open my eyes because I was so scared that it was all a dream.

  “Hey,” he said softly, his lips nuzzling my ear.

  I wriggled out of his arms. “What are you doing here? Oh my God, Nathan. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  I glanced down in horror at my old sweats and the faded, gray T-shirt that used to be white. I had on my bunny slippers, my hair was in a ponytail, and—my hands flew to my chin—there, where I knew he could see the white zit paste.

  The white zit paste that was smeared all over his cheek.

  “Jesus, Monroe. You weren’t kidding. He’s hot.”

  Kate came up behind me, and I heard my parents shuffling behind her. I glanced back and saw that they weren’t dressed to go out. In fact, Dad had on his comfy pants, the ones where the zipper was forever falling down.

  “Nathan?”

  God, I wished we were alone. He looked so handsome in his dark jeans, boots, and heavy jean jacket. His beanie hung off the back of his head, and I loved that there was a bit of stubble on his chin.

  My heart squeezed.

  “I brought someone to meet you.”

  He moved aside and I saw a guy standing behind him. He was tall and thin, but his grin was wide and his eyes were so blue they looked like they had the sky in them.

  “Trevor?” I asked hesitantly.

  He’d come out of his coma a few weeks into September. From what Nathan had said, he had some problems, most of them to do with his memory, but he’d made a slow and steady recovery.

  He nodded. “The one and…only. Good…to finally meet you. I’ve always wanted to come to New York so…I hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, I…” My tongue was so tied up I could barely talk. Oh my God, I sounded like an idiot.

  “Okay, this is nice, boys, but I’m not used to this kind of cold. Do you mind moving so an old woman can get to the heat?”

  Trevor moved and Gram pushed past, kissing me quickly and touching my cheek as she strode by. Again with the surprises. I wasn’t expecting her for two more days. “Happy birthday, Monroe. You’re looking good. Living in the moment suits you.”

  Nathan grabbed my hand again, and his touch zinged through my entire body. I wasn’t just alive. I was on fire. I was where I wanted to be, with the people I wanted to be with.

  Life, such as it was, was as perfect as it ever was going to get.

  Gram was right.

&
nbsp; But then, Gram was always right.

  Acknowledgments

  This book, for so many reasons, means a lot to me. I’ve always wanted to write a young adult novel—one my daughter and her friends could read—and it feels amazing to have done so.

  But it took a while, and I need to thank a few people who helped along the way. First off, my writing buddies, Michelle Rowen and Eve Silver. You both were so encouraging and gracious that I’m not sure I could have gone down this road without your prodding! Michelle, you rock the synopsis tweaking, so thank you!

  I also need to thank Leah Hultenschmidt for taking the time to read a few chapters and for calling me right away with an offer. Thanks for your thoughts and your drive to make this book the best it could be. Aubrey Poole as well, thanks for grabbing up the reins and helping me get the book all pretty and shiny!

  I also am grateful to have found a wonderful agent who I trust implicitly and who has the great taste to be married to a musician! Sara Megibow, you’re truly a rock star, and I appreciate all that you do for me.

  Thanks also to the many bloggers, readers, and reviewers who’ve had a hand in getting the word out about my books. Again, so appreciated and I’m humbled daily at the generosity of those in publishing!

  Lastly, a big thank-you to my family, my husband Andrew, my kids, Jake and Kristen, and my friends! You guys know and accept the woman who, when under deadline, wears the same sweatpants several days in a row and thinks microwave food is “the best.” Thanks for hanging in there with me and seeing my dreams come to fruition!

  About the Author

  Juliana Stone fell in love with her first book boyfriend when she was twelve. The boy was Ned, Nancy Drew’s boyfriend, and it began a lifelong obsession with books and romance. A tomboy at heart, she split her time between baseball, books, and music—three things that carried over into adulthood. She’s thrilled to be writing young adult as well as adult contemporary romance and does so from her home somewhere in Canada.