Torn (All Torn Up Book 1)

Tor ~ age seventeen

Asher ~ age seventeen

Asher and I are in his father’s private home studio jamming when Ash drops this huge bomb on me.

‘We’re getting married two weeks after we graduate.’

My hand freezes on my guitar and I stare at him sitting on a stool in front of the mic with a big grin on his face.

‘Married?’ I repeat.

‘Yeah. We don’t want to wait. And we’re going to get a small apartment in town, I already put a deposit down on it. We don’t want to live with my parents anymore.’

I blink at him like he’s insane. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t want to live here for their entire life. His parents’ house is monstrous, with an indoor and an outdoor pool, sauna, freakin’ music studio, and bathroom for every day of the week. Not to mention a refrigerator that’s always stocked with food.

‘Ash, you guys are living in a small mansion here. You have your own suite of rooms. You don’t even pay rent. Why would you want to move out?’

‘Because my parents are always hovering.’

‘They’re hardly ever here.’

‘We still want our own place. It’s not fair for Ember to have to live here with my parents and my brothers and my sister. She needs her own place so she feels like we have our own home. I want you to be my best man, too.’

‘Well, fuck yeah.’

‘And we want you to live with us.’

Whoa. He’s throwing way too much at me and making my head spin.

‘Um, come again?’

‘Live. With us.’

‘Are you bent? Why would you want me to live with you?’

‘Don’t you want to get out of your parents’ house?’

‘Yeah, but aren’t you getting your own place so you can be alone? Me being there kind of defeats the purpose.’

‘We want you to live with us. We can write more songs and practice more if we’re all together. And we’ll need some help with the baby. Kenzi loves you. You’re the only one who can get her to stop crying.’

I knew there had to be a catch.

‘So you want me to be like a live in babysitter?’

He laughs. ‘I guess. Like a manny. You can pay the cable bill and buy groceries and I’ll pay for everything else. C’mon, it’ll be fun.’

I make a few hundred dollars a month working for my father at his bike shop. The plan is for me to work there full time after I graduate at least until the band takes off and we’re living on the road. I can feel it in my gut – we’re going to make it big soon.

Asher does landscaping after school and on weekends plus he gets an allowance from his parents just for existing. I think it’s ridiculous, but I don’t know what it’s like to come from a wealthy family so I keep my mouth shut about it. So, I guess we could afford an apartment. My mom will probably have a shit fit that her oldest baby is moving out, but she’ll still have my brothers and sister living there so she won’t be dealing with empty nest syndrome yet.

‘Do I get my own room?’ I ask. ‘Because I’m not sleeping on the couch every night. I don’t want my face where your ass has been sitting.’

‘Of course you get a room. I’ll take you over there tomorrow so you can see it. There’s actually a loft upstairs, so you’ll be on your own floor with lots of privacy. You know, in case you ever actually date someone.’ He hints, punching my arm.

‘Worry about your own dick. Mine is fine.’

That’s a bunch of crap, though. My best friend is getting married and has a baby who is almost two years old and I haven’t even gotten laid yet. Even though meeting Ember totally accelerated Asher’s life plan, from where I’m sitting, he’s got everything.

Kenzi

Being back home is bittersweet, and I feel this way every time I come home from visiting Maine. When I’m there, I miss everyone here, but then when I come back home, I miss Aunt Katherine and the peacefulness of the Inn. Before I left, she had a long talk with me and asked me to come live with her and work at the Inn. The thought is very tempting. I just don’t know if I’m ready to leave my father, or be that far away from Tor.

My bedroom feels empty without Snuggles in her spot by the window that she spent twelve years inhabiting. I’m grateful my father cleaned her cage and put it in the basement so I wouldn’t have to see it, so barren without her, as soon as I got home.

There was a tiny black organza bag on my nightstand when I got home, and inside it was a small tuft of her fur.

Underneath it I found a handwritten note:

I thought you might want to have this to remember her.

Love forever & longer,

Tor

Today I read the note again, my heart bursting with even more love for him over the incredibly thoughtful and sweet things he always does for me. I don’t even think that Tor tries to be this way; it just comes naturally for him.

I can’t help but wonder if he did things like this for Sydni. Or Lisa. Or are these gestures and sentiments only for me due to our long history? As selfish as it seems, I want this side of him to be only for me. Reserved for me alone and no one else.

I didn’t text Tor last night when I got home because I spent hours sitting with my father on the patio talking about everything we missed in each other’s lives over the past two months. At one point, he went inside to get a cold drink and came back with three gift-wrapped boxes for me, all in pink paper with silver bows.

‘Dad, you didn’t have to get me gifts.’

‘Don’t be crazy,’ he leans down and kisses the top of my head before taking his seat across from me. ‘I can’t believe you’re eighteen. That blows my mind, baby. It feels like just yesterday we brought you home and had no idea what to do with you.’

I smile at him as I open the largest box. ‘You did great, Dad. I made it to eighteen without ever smoking pot, getting drunk, or getting pregnant. And I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you to go screw yourself. So, job well done.’

‘When you put it that way, I feel like the best father on the planet.’

‘To me you are.’

Pushing the white tissue paper aside, I pull out a charcoal sketch of Snuggles on canvas. My hand flies to my mouth as I choke back tears.

‘Daddy…oh my God. It’s my Snuggles. This means so much to me.’ In the lower right corner is the signature of my uncle Lukas, and that just makes this even more special. Lukas is an amazing artist.

‘I didn’t have any pictures of her so Lukas had to draw her from his memory. I hope it’s okay. He said he can fix anything that you’d like changed, or he can start over with a new one.’

‘No.’ I reply quickly, taking in all the details of the incredibly realistic drawing. Lukas captured her exactly and I wouldn’t change a thing. ‘It’s absolutely perfect. I’m going to have to call him and thank him.’

‘Actually he’ll be here tomorrow night for your bonfire birthday get-together, so you can thank him in person.’

‘Even better.’

Smiling, I pick up the next box and unwrap it as he takes a few pictures of me.

‘I want your mom to see these someday.’ He says, and I must make an involuntary face because he quickly puts his cell phone back down on the table and holds his hands up like he’s surrendering. ‘Okay, I won’t take anymore and we won’t talk about that. Just open your presents.’

This box is filled with different types of stationery, a new leather planner, monogrammed note cards, and matching envelopes.

‘Aw, Dad. You’re feeding my new planner addiction. I love it.’

‘Chloe told me you wanted that one to go with the ten others you have.’ He teases.

‘I did. I’m going to actually use this one, though.’ I have no idea what I’ll be planning, but I feel like it will motivate me to do something every day if I have to write it down.

My dad slides the last, and smallest box across the table to me.

‘I’ve been waiting to give you this one.’

I put my hand on it and study his face. ‘Uh oh. That means it’s going to be extra special. Is it going to make me cry?’

‘It might.’

I open the box slowly, and inside is a smaller, red velvet oval box. It has a tiny gold clasp that I lift with my fingernail, and inside is a white gold and diamond watch that belonged to my mother, gifted down to her on her eighteenth birthday from her Grandmother. My mom absolutely loved this watch and only wore it on very special occasions like Christmas and her and dad’s wedding anniversary.

I carefully lift the watch from its white satin pillow and turn it in my hand, the light catching the sparkling diamonds. The glittering gems always fascinated me when I was younger; I used to call them tiny stars.

‘Dad…are you sure?’ I ask with uncertainty. I’m not sure I should accept this when Mom isn’t here to give it to me herself. I can’t bear the thought of doing anything that would upset her, or taking something that meant so much to her.

He nods, his eyes dark pools of emotion. Love. Sadness. Pride.

‘I’m positive, Kenzi. She always planned to give it to you on your eighteenth birthday. She wanted you to have it.’

‘Will you put it on for me?’ I ask, handing it to him. My eyes are misty as he takes it from me and gingerly clasps it around my wrist. It’s delicate and beautiful and a hundred memories of my mom wearing it flip through my mind.

‘I promise I’ll take care of it just like mom did.’ I say, wiping at my eyes with my napkin.

‘I know you will, baby. She knew that, too.’

I try to re-imagine this night if my mom was still here, and not trapped in a wakeless sleep. Her hair would be long and loose, and she’d have on a flowy blouse and cut off jean shorts, one of her favorite casual go-to outfits. She’d sit close to Dad and they’d hold hands and smile while they watched me opening my presents. I’d feel their love radiating from them like I always could, and I’d get that happy warm fuzzy feeling inside just being part of their little bubble. My mom would jump up in excitement after I opened the watch, and she’d put it on my wrist and kiss my cheeks and go on and on about all the things she had planned for us to do together. Mom was always so excited about me growing up and being her best friend.

‘I heard you had lunch with Sailor while you were out in Maine.’ Dad suddenly says with a hint of rare displeasure.

‘Yeah, he has family nearby. Kind of a small world. We had lunch and then drove around talking. I’m designing a tattoo for him.’

He pushes his hair off his face and fixes a thoughtful expression at me. My father has shifted into thinking mode, which may or may not go well for me.

‘Are you two dating, then?’

‘I saw him once, Dad. Geez.’

‘Once is a start.’

I quirk my eyebrows up at him. ‘We’re not dating. It was purely on a friendship level. He’s really sweet, though, and he was very polite. He didn’t even kiss me or ogle at me or do any sort of thing that would make you want to kick his ass. Okay?’

‘Good.’ My father says.

‘I’m eighteen now, Dad. You can’t get nervous every time a guy pays attention to me.’

‘I can’t help it. And I like Sailor, he’s a good kid. But I think he’s too old for you. He’s travelled, he’s in a new band, probably has lots of experience…’

My stomach contracts with nerves as my father continues to go on about the perils of dating a young musician, and I can barely pay attention to what he’s saying. Sailor is in his early twenties. A far cry from Toren’s thirty-two years. If my dad thinks Sailor is too old for me to be dating, he’ll go totally loco if he finds out I have feelings for Tor that go way beyond friendship.

After the texting with Tor a few weeks ago, my dreamer mind had fabricated a scenario where Tor and I are happily dating and my father, all our friends, and family accepted us as a couple. This conversation is a major bitchslap back into the reality that the chances of that ever happening are nearly impossible, no matter how much we might be wishing for it.

‘Hot damn,’ Chloe says. ‘I’d love to be the cheese in that sandwich.’ Rayne and I follow her gaze across my back yard to where Tor is talking with Sailor and Finn. We’re sitting in chairs by the pool, catching up since I just got back from Maine. There’s more people at the bonfire tonight since my father announced it was also to celebrate my birthday, which I really didn’t want as I don’t like being any sort of nucleus of attention.

‘Seriously.’ Rayne agrees. ‘I don’t know who’s hotter. But it’s basically a club sandwich since there’s three of them. Let’s do marry/fuck/kiss and figure it out.’

‘Ooh I love that!’ Chloe squeals. ‘I’ll go first.’ She narrows her eyes at the guys as her brain works them over. ‘I’d marry Sailor, fuck the hell out of Tor, and kiss Finn. And if Tanner was here, he’d be my alternate fuck. I can’t get enough of him.’

I almost choke on my soda at her words about Tor. He’s mine. I fight the urge to jump out of my chair and claw her eyes out.

Rayne sits up straighter as she takes her turn analyzing the trio of men. ‘I’m going to have to marry Tor, fuck Finn, and kiss Sailor. And since we’re adding alternates, I’d totally marry Tristan. That boy is so sexy and adorable. I could just eat him up.’ They turn to me. ‘Okay, Kenz. Your turn.’

Of course now that it’s my turn, Tor is walking over towards us with his sexy swagger, drink in hand, his muscular chest stretching the thin white t-shirt he’s wearing.

‘Why do you ladies look like you’re up to no good?’ He asks with a grin when he reaches us.

Chloe bats her eyelashes at him. ‘We’re doing marry/fuck/kiss with you, Sailor and Finn with your brothers as alternates.’

Tor lets out a chuckle. ‘Is that right?’

‘Yeah, but Kenzi hasn’t picked yet,’ Chloe adds. ‘You should know, I didn’t pick you to kiss or marry, Tor. So you do the math. But Rayne picked you to marry.’

Tor does a mock bow to Rayne. ‘Thank you, Rayne, for not treating me like a piece of meat. And Chloe, I don’t think you could handle this.’ He winks at her and takes a sip of his soda.

‘I’m up for the challenge,’ Chloe teases back, and I can feel myself burning up with jealousy over her blatant flirting. I don’t want her or anyone else handling him.

‘Well?’ Chloe urges, poking my arm. ‘You didn’t pick, Kenzi. You’re the birthday girl, so you can have two alternates.’

‘I think I’ll pass.’ I answer, glancing up at Tor. ‘I’m going to go get something to eat.’

Rising, I walk across the yard to the deck to make myself a salad. I know Chloe is just playing around but it really struck a little green nerve in me. The mere thought of Toren having sex with another woman or marrying someone makes my heart hurt.

My phone vibrates in my pocket so I pull it out while I’m standing next to the table of assorted salads.

Tor: I want to know your answers

I look up and do a quick scan of the yard to find him sitting by himself next to a Tiki torch, his eyes on me. My heart beats skip under his gaze.

Me: You’re my pick for everything.

Tor: You would be mine, too.

Me: I think Chloe has a thing for you :/

Tor: Who’s Chloe?

I smile at my phone and then sneak a peek back at him. He flashes me a devious smile and waves.

Shaking my head, I take my plate over to the gazebo, where my dad is singing and Sailor is playing guitar. My dad’s younger brother, Mikah, is playing percussion on small conga drums behind them, which I love the sound of. I sit in a nearby lawn chair and eat my salad as I listen to their unplugged version of an old love song.

‘I used to be a musician too, ya know. If that’s what you’re into.’ He suddenly whispers in my ear, dragging the nearest empty chair over next to mine.

‘Once a musician, always a musician,’ I retort. ‘It’s in your blood. And I’m not into musicians. I’m into someone who can make me feel.’

He plucks a cucumber slice out of my salad and chews it slowly. ‘Feel what, exactly?’

I shrug. ‘Everything. I want to experience everything and feel everything.’

‘Everything is a dangerous path, Angel.’

‘Not if it’s with the right person.’

He holds my eyes for a few moments before breaking contact. ‘You actually look older to me now. I’m not sure if it’s because I haven’t seen you in two months or if you changed while you were gone. But you look older to me.’

‘Maybe it’s because you allowed yourself to think about what you would do to me, as you put it.’

‘Jesus, Kenzi,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t bring that up here. We’re surrounded by your family.’

‘No one can hear us over the music. There’s not even anyone near us.’

‘I don’t care. Just don’t talk about it here.’

Sighing, I turn my full attention to the band, my father’s voice like smooth velvet even sitting here in his back yard with no mic. I let my eyes shift over to Sailor, who smiles at me when he catches my eye.

And Tor sees it, too.

He leans closer to me, almost knocking his lawn chair over onto me. ‘What’s up with you and him?’

‘Nothing, why?’

‘He just smiled his little pretty boy smile at you.’

I laugh. ‘Really, Tor? You’re all growly over a smile? I just had to witness Chloe practically getting on her knees in front of you. How do you think that felt for me?’

‘As you saw, I didn’t encourage her.’

‘Thank you. That would have gutted me.’

‘Where would Sailor fall in your marry/screw/kiss list?’

‘That depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On if you’re one of the options.’

‘You’re so naughty, Kenzi.’ He shakes his head and leans away.

‘I refuse to consider Sailor in any way. Even for a game. You have my heart, and you know it. We can sit here and make a list of all the wrongs but it still won’t change how I feel, Tor.’

‘Trust me, I know the feeling.’

The song ends and Tor stands up. ‘I’m going to do something special, just for you.’ He says, and I watch with curiosity as he goes up to my dad, says a few words, then takes the guitar from Sailor, shooing him out of the gazebo like he’s a puppy.

My father is all smiles as Tor drags a stool closer to him and then begins to play one of their oldest songs that my parents and Tor wrote together when they were teens.

To the best of my knowledge, Tor hasn’t played in front of people since he left the band years ago. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t play alone because the guitar case in his closet never looks like it’s been moved. But the way he’s playing the guitar so fluidly and perfectly right now is like he never stopped.

Sailor has taken the chair beside me that Tor just vacated, which I’m sure is only going to further agitate Tor’s suspicion that Sailor might be interested in being more than friends, but I can’t ask him not to sit with me.

‘Whoa,’ Sailor says. ‘No one’s heard Toren Grace play in years.’

‘I know,’ I say, not taking my eyes off the man who owns my heart and is now recapturing a dream he gave up, just to give me a glimpse of himself that I never got to see.

‘He was one of my inspirations when I was younger. Storm is great too, they just have very different playing styles.’

My dad’s brother Storm took Tor’s place in the band after he had to leave when his father passed away, and Sailor is right – Storm is very talented and the fans love him. He slipped into the band with ease without causing a disruption to their songs. I’m still a little perplexed and slightly disappointed that everyone in my family has amazing musical talents except me.

The next song they play is the song that put them on the map and launched the band’s popularity. It’s a ballad about losing your first love, and while I’m sure I’ve heard it at least a thousand times, this slimmed down acoustic version is raw and intimate, sending chills down my spine. I’ve always known Tor wrote this song, but before today I never wondered if there’s personal inspiration behind it. Now, it’s got me thinking. Other than Sydni, who has broken his heart? He didn’t start dating Sydni until my mother introduced them, which was after this song was written. Was there someone else along the way he’s never talked about? Or is it simply just a well-written, emotional song?

They play two more songs, and I’m practically hypnotized watching Tor play. I grew up watching musicians, quite a few were friends of my dad or other bands they toured with, but there is something erotic about watching a man you’re attracted to play the guitar. The sensual words he typed in our text messages are on repeat in my mind as I watch his fingers move over the strings, wondering how they would feel touching me. That day he kissed me on the couch was the first and only time he ever put his hands on my body in any kind of sexual way, but the memory of the possessive way he pulled me onto him and the burn of his hand on the flesh of my lower back makes my insides quiver.

Later, my father and my grandmother bring out a huge cake blazing with candles and my dad sings a rocked out version of Happy Birthday to me like he does every year. A few people have left cards and gifts for me, but thankfully my father doesn’t make me open them all in front of everyone like I’m five. I’d rather open them in private and then send hand-written thank you cards to everyone.

As it gets late our guests start to filter out, most of them coming to hug me and wish me happy birthday before they leave. I’ve been so caught up talking to everyone that I didn’t get a chance to thank Toren for playing guitar for me. I walk around the back yard trying to find him, and finally walk around to the front to see if his truck or bike is still here, and my heart takes a nosedive when I see him standing by his truck with Sydni. I try to look away, but I can’t. They’re standing closer than friends would be, and her hands are on his chest, but not pushing him away. His arm is resting on the truck next to her head, as if he’s going to lean down to kiss her. I so wish I could read lips because I can’t hear what they’re saying from where I stand hidden amongst the manicured bushes at the side of the house.

I jump when he suddenly slams his fist against the truck, and she pulls her hands away from him.

They’re fighting.

I turn to walk away and trip over part of the stone landscape. When I look back, he’s looking right at me. Our eyes lock and flash for a brief moment before I tear mine away.

Crap.

I beeline into the house, embarrassed at being caught spying on him. Could I be any more immature? Trying to avoid the guests in our kitchen, I go down the other hallway and run right into Tor who must have come in through the front door. Grabbing my arm, he quickly and discretely steers me into the laundry room and closes the door behind us.

I stare up at him, trying to catch my breath from walking too fast. Or maybe from being so close to him in this small space.

‘What were you doing out there?’ He asks. ‘Eavesdropping? That’s not like you, Kenz.’

I shake my head and try to find my voice. ‘No. I was looking for you so I could say goodnight and thank you for playing the songs for me. I haven’t seen you play since I was a little girl. I guess I just wasn’t expecting to see you with Sydni. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologize.’

Backing up a few inches, he glances down at my legs. ‘You skinned your knee.’ He grabs a paper towel from a shelf next to the washing machine, runs some cold water on it from the sink, and kneels down in front of me.

He gently dabs at my knee with the paper towel, then tosses it into the trash. I wait for him to stand, but he remains kneeling in front of me, his hand on the spot behind my knee. Tor has fixed many booboos for me over the years, and maybe he’s thinking of all those times, like I am right now. We’ve reached that odd moment again where the lines of who we are to each other have been blurred.

More like obliterated.

I reach out and move my fingers through his long hair, my nails grazing along his scalp, and he places a soft kiss right above my skinned knee before he finally stands, grabbing my waist and lifting me effortlessly up on top of the clothes dryer, moving to stand between my thighs. Without breaking eye contact he reaches behind him and locks the door.

‘Nothing is going on with Sydni. She just likes to push my buttons and piss me off.’ His hands are on my waist as he talks, and I have no idea what to do with my own. Right now they’re white knuckling the edge of the dryer.

‘You don’t have to explain, Tor.’

‘Yeah, I do. I don’t want you thinking she and I are back together. Things are just getting really complicated.’

‘Does she think you’re getting back together?’

‘I don’t know what goes on in her crazy brain but we are definitely not together. A few weeks ago we talked and she asked for another chance.’

‘What would that be then, the hundredth chance?’ I ask, unable to hide my sarcasm, which is attempting to cover up my fear of her getting him back.

‘Something like that. But that was before you and I…talked.’ He says nervously, his eyes shifting down between us and then back up to my face.

‘So you’re not going to give her another chance?’

‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘I can’t even consider that when all I can think about is you, now can I?’

Finally, he’s saying the words I’ve been waiting so long to hear.

‘I can’t stop thinking about you, either.’ I say, my voice shaking in tune with my trembling insides.

‘I want to show you something. That’s why I pulled you in here. It’s kinda your birthday present.’

I’m confused as he slowly lifts his shirt up, until my eyes land on his chest, right above his heart, where there’s a new tattoo of the scribbled heart drawing I made for him when I was a little girl, with the words ‘i love you the most’ beneath it. My breath catches as I stare at it.

‘When did you get that?’

‘A few weeks ago.’

He moves even closer and my heart tries to break free from my chest to jump into his as he leans in to whisper in my ear.

‘Do you still mean it?’

‘Yes. I always will.’ I say breathlessly.

He leans back to look into my eyes as he pulls his shirt back down. ‘Good. Because it’s there forever now.’

‘I’ll mean it forever. I promise.’

On impulse, I lean forward and touch my lips to his for a stolen kiss, and he inhales sharply in surprise.

”That’s what I want. So fuckin’ bad.’ He whispers with a raspy voice as he leans his forehead against mine. ‘Kiss me again. Then I have to get out of here.’

His hands tighten around my waist in encouragement as he waits for me, and my insecurity kicks in, knowing he’s waiting for it, wanting it, and not pushing me away. I don’t want to disappoint him by kissing like an eighteen-year-old virgin.

Even though I am.

Reaching up, I grasp his wide shoulders and pull him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist before tilting my head up to meet his lips that still have a slight taste of my birthday cake. He lets me drive the kiss, not pressing further or taking control, which I wish he would do. I want him to pull me closer and kiss me deeper like he did the other times we kissed, but he’s not. He’s completely still, breathing against my mouth, waiting for me.

I open my eyes to find his dark and fiery, staring into mine. Our mouths linger against each other, while my heart is fluttering in my chest like a hummingbird. He’s all man between my legs and under my touch – wide, rock hard, and powerful. He smells of rain and woods and grease, and it’s provocative in this tiny space of detergent and bleach. I want to pull his shirt off and run my hands over his smooth muscles, kiss him in places I’ve only dreamed about.

His nose nudges against mine, his lips brushing across my cheek. ‘You can do whatever you want,’ he whispers, as if he can feel all the things I’m thinking.

I want to do everything.

But there’s some kind of disconnect between my brain, my heart, my hands, and my lips. In my mind I pulled him closer, ran my hands under his shirt and over his chest and abs as my lips trailed down his neck, chasing after my hands, tasting him, kissing the words on his chest.

Instead I plant a quick kiss on his mouth and pull away, untangling my legs from around him as he lets out a deep sigh.

‘Alright,’ he says, his voice thick with…disappointment?

Yes. He’s disappointed. In me.

My heart and stomach sink together as I jump off the clothes dryer and he moves away from me.

‘You get out of here first and then I’ll leave. I don’t want anyone to see us coming out of here together.’

‘Okay,’ I say awkwardly, reaching for the doorknob. ‘Thank you for playing the songs for me, Tor. It was amazing to finally see you and hear you play.’

He nods and runs his hand through his hair before meeting my eyes again. The fire is gone from them now, replaced with their usual shroud of melancholy.

‘Happy birthday, Angel.’

I unlock the door and peer outside to make sure no one is in milling around in the hallway before I leave the room and go directly upstairs to my own, closing my door behind me before I burst into tears.

I let him down. He gave me a chance to show him how I feel and what I want, and I let my nerves and inexperience get in the way and destroyed the moment.

Once again, that bitch called reality is knocking on my door, here to remind me that regardless of how we feel, I’m still a teenager, and he’s still a grown man. No matter how close we might be sometimes, we are still worlds apart in so many ways.