Page 33 of Genesis

I’ve loved this boy possibly since the first time I saw him. He’d just set a house on fire, and I was amazed. How could two kids do this? And then he followed me when I was running away from the reality of my life. My mom was dying, and I wanted to destroy everything. I recall what he said to me that night.

He looks at me and smiles. “That’s always so fun,” he says.

“What?” I ask, out of breath.

“Doing something bad and not getting caught,” he replies like it’s the simplest thing.

I make a face of confusion. “You like doing bad things?”

“Don’t you?” he asks. “You were the one busting windows first.”

“I was… I wasn’t doing it because it was bad. I was doing it because I was mad.”

“What’s the difference in why? You still knew it was wrong and you still did it. And…” he says all matter-of-factly, “you didn’t get caught.”

Samuel may be the safe choice, but Samuel isn’t making a move. Samuel isn’t asking me to choose.

I know this is wrong. I know whatever Danny does isn’t good, but there is a part of me that likes that about him. I like the dangerous side.

I look back at him. “Can I see what the inside looks like?”

His lip lifts. He reaches up and removes his keys. “Come on.”

He unlocks the door to the cabin in the woods, and we step through. It’s warm, so I know he’s been here. “I just bought it, so I haven’t really done anything to it.” He walks over and turns on a lamp before tossing his keys onto the table. He reaches behind his head and pulls his hoodie off, causing his shirt to rise. My eyes jump down to exposed skin, a happy trail that leads to… well, we know where it leads. My body warms, and my heart speeds up.

And things get real.

I’m alone with Danny inhishouse.

He tosses the hoodie onto the back of the couch and I notice a knife hanging on his belt. “Want something to drink?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.

I swallow my nerves.

“No,” I say.

He looks over at me. “All right.”

“What am I doing here, Danny?” I ask.

“I wanted to show you this,” he says, waving his hand around.

I nod, looking around the living room. He lifts his chin, sliding his hands into his pockets. I slide my coat off, tossing it onto the couch beside his. Next goes the long-sleeve shirt I’m wearing over my tank top. He watches curiously and his eyes jump down to my wrist.

“You still wear it?” he asks.

I look down, lifting my arm and running my fingers over the knotted wheat chain. “Why wouldn’t I?”

I drop my arm, walking closer until I’m standing right in front of him. I look up, my heart pounding out of my chest. The heat kicks on, swirling warmth through the house, breaking the silence with a low hum. “Guess there’s no invisible line here,” I say.

He doesn’t say anything. I reach up, running my hand under the front of his shirt. Scared, nervous, and every other feeling a person could possibly feel in this moment. He could turn me down. He could tell me to stop. Or he could let me continue and I have no idea what I’m doing.

His skin is warm. He watches me, not moving. I look down at his lips before my eyes bounce back up to his. He tilts his head, looking at my lips, too.

And then I hold on to his belt, lifting my toes so our faces are close.

I lean, he bends, and lightly we kiss. His hands come out of his pockets, gripping onto my hips as my tongue slips past his lips, dancing with his. My hands go to the back of his head and I run my fingers through his hair. Danny’s kiss is a mixture of bliss and torture.

I moan into his mouth in pure pleasure. He takes that as permission to keep going, walking us over to the couch. He sits down and pulls me on top of his lap. I adjust my legs, careful of the knife he wears even though it’s in a leather holding case. Our lips meet, and our tongues move together. Our make-out session is hot and earth-shattering. He reaches down and pulls my tank top up, breaking our kiss so he can remove it.

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