Eversea A Love Story

womanhood. Could it really be me that made him feel this way?
    His voice breathed into my neck. “You have to stop, we have to stop ... or I won’t be able to.”
    What was I doing? I couldn’t believe I could lose complete control this fast. I didn’t want to stop. It was wanton , as my Nana would say. My God, he was right. We had to stop. I couldn’t believe I had let a simple kiss get so out of hand. I was terrified to realize that if Jack hadn’t stopped, I would have let him take my virginity right there in the laundry room. In fact, I’d never wanted anything more. He stepped back, and we both struggled to get our breathing under control. The more we settled back to earth, the more horrified I was at my behavior.
    “I’m sorry,” I muttered, a little mortified by the way I had thrown myself at him.
    He smiled, but his brow furrowed. “What for?”
    “I can’t believe I just did that, and that I ... let it ... get so ... um ...”
    “Out of control? Well, there were two of us there, sweetheart.”
    “Don’t call me that. It makes me feel young ... and naïve.”
    “Well, you are young. But after that kiss, I wouldn’t call you naïve.” He chuckled.
    I pressed my lips together in indignation and punched him right on his tattoo.
    He laughed louder. “You’re cute.”
    “Stop it. I’m not cute.”
    “Okay.” He reached out and brushed a piece of hair off my cheek. Even that sweet simple gesture had me sizzling.
    “I’ve just ... uh ... I’ve never felt anything like that before,” I offered, honestly.
    He sighed. “Me either, Keri Ann. So I guess that makes two of us.”
     

 
    S I X T E E N
    I couldn’t remember the last time I had spent a day not working on something to do with the house. At about two o’clock —exactly two hours and fifteen minutes after Jack and I had kissed in the laundry room—I was clutching my sides with laughter at stories he was telling me about some of his first auditions. He had almost landed on the proverbial ‘casting couch’ and also once mistakenly ended up at a porn movie audition.
    We were lying on the sun loungers by the pool, and periodically we would trade quotes from The Princess Bride trying to one up each other. I was taking my cover up off when he quoted that there was “a shortage of perfect breasts in the world”. That shut me up. I wasn’t going to win that one.
    I was getting a very tanned front because I was too nervous to ask Jack to put sunscreen on my back. Despite that, I couldn’t believe how comfortable I suddenly was with him. I still felt like I was plugged into an electrical outlet in the sense that my nerves were aware of him at any given moment, but somehow having kissed him, and even though I wanted to do it again, as soon as possible, I felt like a small pressure valve had been tapped. Slightly.
    “So why doesn’t Keri Ann Butler have a boyfriend?” Jack’s sudden question caught me by surprise. I looked over at him. He looked genuinely interested.
    “Who’s to say she doesn’t?” I threw back at him, to cover my nerves.
    “Your history of kissing, or lack thereof, for one.”
    “Maybe I just have a hand-holding boyfriend.” I smirked.
    “Sweetheart, I’m not sure what kind of men they make around here, but they’d have to be made of stone to settle for just holding your hand.” My insides flipped. He continued, “So do you?”
    “Do I what?”
    “Have a hand-holding boyfriend?”
    “No.” I sighed. “I haven’t been that interested in anyone. Plus no one’s really asked, but that could also be because I have a protective older brother who I recently found out threatened anyone who might.”
    “Seriously? Wow, what did he say when you told him about me?”
    “He said, ‘Be careful.’ He could have been referring to me, or in fact, you.” I grinned.
    Jack laughed, and then reached out and took my hand. It shocked me into silence. I looked at him.
    He just closed his eyes, a dimple still showing, and turned his face back up to the sun.
    I swallowed the large lump in my throat. What was he doing?
    “So why did you want to act?” I asked to cover my reaction to his gesture. I was sure this was a classic interview question, but I was curious, and the silence was way too heavy with my hand in his.
    He looked at me like it was the first time it had been asked.
    “What?” I said, defensively. “And no, I don’t already know the answer to that question either.”
    “It’s not that.” He