“I wasn’t ready,” I say. I wipe at my eyes with one hand. “And I didn’t know what to think.” Finny sits down on the bed, but he doesn’t face me. I wrap my arms around my waist tightly and wait, but he doesn’t say anything. I push the covers off my lap and crawl toward him. I lean forward and try to find his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I hate myself for hurting you.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“For what?”
“I’m sorry for kissing you.”
“Don’t say that,” I say. “Don’t say you’re sorry for that.”
Finny surprises me then; he laughs out loud and shakes his head. “I never know what to do to make you happy, do I?”
“You make me happier than any other person ever has,” I say, but he still won’t look at me.
“Do I?” he says. I nod.
“Every day,” I whisper. My heart beats fast and my fingers close into trembling fists. We are both quiet for a few moments. I hear a lone bird singing outside; it must be close to dawn. I wish I could see him better. He still isn’t looking at me.
“What if I kissed you right now?” he says. I can’t answer him at first; everything inside me has gone still. I tell myself to take a breath.
“That would make me happy,” I say.
It doesn’t happen smoothly. First, Finny shifts his position so that he is facing me, and then I sit up straighter. We pause there, and I have to tell myself to raise my face for him. He reaches over slowly like he thinks any second I’ll tell him to stop, and he lays his hand on the back of my head. I feel my whole body relax with his touch, and maybe he feels it too because it happens very quickly after that. Finny pulls me toward him and our noses bump. I turn my face to the side, and he presses his mouth against mine.
It’s warm, kissing Finny, and sort of like my whole body is being stroked with a feather. He puts his hand on my hip and I want to do something with my hands too. I lay one on his shoulder, and the other on his knee. Finny’s fingers tighten in my hair.
“Ow,” I say, and I flinch away from his hand even though I don’t want to, even though I want to pretend it doesn’t hurt.
“Sorry,” he says. Our noses are still touching but he isn’t kissing me. He starts to take his hands away.
“No, don’t stop,” I say. I pull on his shoulder. “Lie down with me.” I lean back onto his pillows.
“Oh God,” Finny says, and he crawls over me.
We kiss quickly at first, as if we’re trying to make up for lost time, and then long and slow, as if we’re daring each other to see who can last longer. My hands are on his back, trying to hold him closer; his are on either side of my face, holding me still.
I don’t know how long we kiss like that; the only thing I am aware of besides him are the sounds I hear myself making from time to time; little sighs and moans like I have never made kissing anyone else.
It’s never felt like this before.
It feels so natural.
It feels so right.
Finny.
I finally understand what’s been missing for me all these years.
After a while, he draws his hand slowly, really slowly, down my shoulder and across the side of my ribs. He holds my breast, gently.
My Finny.
My eyes are wet again, and I feel one tear trail down the corner of my eye, and then another and another, and I realize that there may never be another moment more perfect than this for the rest of my life.
“Finny?” I say.
He stops kissing me slowly and then raises his head more quickly to look down at me. “Yeah?” he breathes.
“I want…” I say, and then realize that I don’t know how to say it and the words trail off.
“Do you want me to stop?” he says.
“No!” I say. The thought fills me with panic and I speak quickly. “I want the opposite of that.” There is a moment of silence. I hold my breath.
“You want me to keep going?” he says.
“Yes,” I say.
Finny blinks at me and stumbles over his next words. “I—I don’t have—” he says.
“I don’t care,” I say. And I don’t. All I care about is not losing this moment with him.
“Autumn,” he says. “No—”
“Please, Finny,” I say. I lean up and kiss his neck, right under his ear. He gasps sharply and his body shudders. “Please, Finny,” I whisper between kisses. “Please. Please. Please.”
Our mouths finally find each other again. After a moment, he pushes his hand under my T-shirt and up to my bra. I reach down and try to pull my shirt over my head without moving my lips from his until I have to. If we stop kissing, we will have to talk about what we’re doing. He helps me and kisses me as I arch my back to unhook my bra.
I reach down and try to undo the button on his jeans, but I can’t. He stops kissing me and pushes my hands away. I think I’m going to die until I realize he is undoing it himself.
There just isn’t a way for two people on a bed to take off their jeans without being awkward and embarrassing. But it can still be perfect and wonderful too.
Finny sits up and pulls his shirt over his head. I can see all of him now, and for the first time, I am frightened. He looks down at me.
“Oh, Autumn,” he says. I reach down and try to shimmy out of my underwear without looking silly, but I probably don’t succeed. When they’re past my hips, he pulls them down and off my ankles and tosses them on the floor. He’s looking at me again. I feel like I’ve been tossed up in the air, and if I don’t grab on to him in time, I will fall back down again. I hold out my arms to him.
“Can I tell you that I love you first?” Finny says. I begin to fall slowly, slowly down.
“Yes,” I say. Finny leans over me again. One of his hands parts my thighs, and the other rests by my head.
“I love you,” Finny says in my ear. I feel him touching me there, with his hand and his other. “Oh God, I love you.” He pushes into me just a little; it’s a warning. I bury my face into his shoulder. “Oh God,” he says. “Autumn.”
I bite my lip and don’t cry out. He moves slowly at first, and I know that it’s for me; I can feel him holding back. It hurts, but not like I thought it would. It isn’t a general blank pain; it’s contained and exact, just like being ripped apart. I can almost hear it.
“It’s okay, Finny,” I say. “I’m okay.” He groans then for the first time and moves faster. I close my eyes and rest my cheek against his. I think about lying in this room with him, drawing on each other’s backs. I think about sitting next to him on the couch and watching TV. He moans and my arms tighten around him. I think of his hands over mine on the steering wheel. I think of us shining our flashlights in each other’s windows at night.