Lost in You

follow the path my hands make on his skin. He pulls away from me when my hand touches his waistband. I sit back and look at him. His eyes are hooded.
    He wants this and so do I.
    “Let’s go to my house,” he says so quietly, it's as if he’s trying to keep his words a secret. I know it pains him to say those words. Bringing me home has never been an option and it’s something I’ve accepted. I know he’s embarrassed by his home. I get that. For him to suggest we go to his house shows me how much he loves me, how much he’s willing to put his feelings aside so that we aren’t having sex in the back of my car, in the church parking lot.
    Ryan pushes my hair off my shoulder. He’s so tentative, going with what feels natural when it comes to us. “I want to have sex with you, but not here… like this. I can’t offer you much, but I can at least offer you a bed.”
    “We could get caught.” I know we’ll get caught. Parents have a sixth sense when their child is having sex in the house, although it could be the squeak coming from the bedroom that is the dead giveaway.
    Ryan shrugs. “I’ve heard the guys talking in the locker room and they’re always talking about having sex in their cars and trucks, at least that is what they are telling each other and it’s not like I don’t want to do it, I do. I just don’t want you to feel cheap or like I don’t care.”
    Blue lights flash through the fogged up windows, followed quickly by a flashlight. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” I say as I scramble off Ryan’s lap. I look for my shirt, sliding it over my head just as the officer taps on the window.
    I look at Ryan, who’s whiter than a ghost, staring at me. I throw his sweatshirt at him, but he doesn’t flinch, even when it hits him in the face.
    He shines the flashlight in the window, tapping again. I have to lean over Ryan to push the window release down. I don’t let the whole window down, just enough that the officer can see inside.
    “Good evening, officer,” I say, hoping to kill him with kindness.
    He looks at his watch and back into the car, shining his light all around. “I think we’re way past evening, wouldn’t you say, Ryan?” He points his flashlight directly into Ryan’s eyes. His arm comes up to act like a shield. It doesn’t escape me that the police officer knows his name.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I suppose you have a good explanation as to why you’re out at this hour, in a running car, sitting in the church parking lot?”
    “Just talking,” I answer immediately. I rub my hands up and down my legs, trying to calm my nerves. The officer looks at us like we are a bunch of lying teenagers. He’s right. He should look at us this way. He steps away from the car and does something with the radio on his shoulder. I can’t tell what he’s doing, but I need to use this distraction to get Ryan to snap out of it.
    “Ryan?” I pull his face toward mine, forcing him to look at me. “We weren’t doing anything wrong so we need to answer his questions so he’ll leave, okay?”
    He nods and puts on his sweatshirt that isn’t even dry yet. I lean forward and shut off the car. I forgot it was running and is probably out of gas. I don’t dare step out of the car, although I want to move up front and get the hell out of here. I can’t believe I let things get this far. I should know better.
    The officer steps up to the car. I smile, hoping to convey some sort of “I’m sorry and it will never happen again” image. He’s unreadable, his lips in a straight line. I think if he was to smile, his face would crack and break like old plaster.
    “Hadley Carter?” I swallow hard when he says my name. I look down. I can’t look at him as I nod in assent. “I need you to step out of the car.”
    Ryan finally acknowledges what’s going on. He grabs my hand as he opens his door. I follow him out. He shuts the door behind and pulls me to him. I get this chivalry act, but it’s not going to help.
    “What brings you to Brookfield, Miss Carter?”
    “Um –”
    “She came to see me.” Ryan speaks with confidence. The officer looks at him doubtfully and that pisses me off. He shakes his head while he writes something down.
    “It’s true. I flew in and texted him when I got here.” Ryan pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around me.   
    The officer nods as he continues to write in his notebook. He walks around the car, flashing this light in the windows.
    “What’s in the