I Hate You . . . I Think

Special Moments and a Tent

“Low, what are you doing?” 

Oh God. My face flushes bright red from embarrassment. Did he not want me? Oh God I should have never done that. When did I become so insecure?

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I quickly try to move off of him, but his hands clamp down on my hips.

“Where are you going?” he asks, confused. “And what are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry. I thought you wanted to . . . um, never mind.”

Again I try to move off of his lap, but he doesn’t let me. 

“Low look at me.” When I don’t he cups both sides of my face in his hands and turns my head. “Trust me I want to. I just don’t want to push you too much.” His thumbs rub in soothing circles on either side of my face.

At that moment, I know. I love the stupid idiot in front of me. I understand what he was talking about when he said that he probably had feelings for me all along. I think I always did too. 

I lean down and wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him furiously. This time he rolls and is on top of me. Does he still feel the same way about me. I know he said that he loved me, but I didn’t say it back. What if he changed his mind?

Oh well. Now’s a good a time as any to find out. 

I pull my mouth back from his and look into his intense green eyes.

“I love you,” I whisper. 

His mouth drops open in shock. I wait for him to say it back, but when nothing comes out of his mouth, I start panicking. God I’m so stupid. Why the hell did I tell him. The guy doesn’t like commitment. It probably didn’t even mean anything.

“I love you too.” 

My heart flies out of my chest and inside I start doing a happy dance. I kiss him another time before sitting back and grabbing the edge of my shirt. Once again Seth’s hands are on top of mine. 

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He smiles at me. When my hands move to take the shirt off, his go with them. Suddenly the black shirt is in a pile on the floor of the tent. He moves off of me a little to look at me. Under the intense stare of his eyes I want to move my arms to cover myself, but I force my arms to remain by my sides. 

Then it hits me. I am lying shirtless under Seth Ryker.

Wow, never thought that would happen. 

Might as well go full out now. 

I reach my hands underneath me and undo my bra hooks. I pull it off of me and fling it over to some corner of the tent. 

“Wow,” he says a little breathlessly.

Again all of my doubts creep in. Seth has been with a lot of girls, a lot of girls who are prettier than me. He probably thinks I am ugly.

His hands run all over my exposed abdomen, up the sides of my breasts, to my shoulders.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.

“And you’re extremely sappy,” I giggle. Inside I am jumping at his words.

Our lips connect and we move, feeling every part of each other. Heat shoots through my body to my lower abdomen. When Seth’s hands move to the edge of my sweats, he stops once again and I have to force myself not to groan in frustration.

“Are you sure that you want this?” Seth asks.

“Yeah, just . . . can I ask some questions? Health class scared the crap of me.” Seth winces at the memory of some of the pictures and videos from health class in tenth grade. It was absolutely disgusting.