One Perfect Summer

arms around his knees.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask gently, putting my food down too.
    He looks at my knees and shakes his head, but doesn’t answer.
    ‘Joe, you’re starting to worry me.’ He still won’t look at me. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask again.
    ‘Nothing,’ he says. ‘And everything.’
    I tilt his chin towards me and force him to look at me. His eyes meet mine, darker in this cave, but still intense. A jolt goes through me, and then we’re kissing. We fall back onto the rug and I pull him on top of me, shivers travelling all the way up my body into my head. They keep coming in waves as he kisses me like never before. His hands slide inside of my top to my breasts and I gasp into his mouth as I reach down to unbutton his jeans.
    He looks at me and nods and I know that this time he has come prepared.
    Butterflies sweep into my stomach as I realise that this is it: I’m going to lose my virginity to Joe, beautiful, lovely Joe. A boy I love, a boy I will always love. Tears prick my eyes and I feel momentarily overwhelmed at the intensity of this thought, but I keep my lips pressed to his as we ease ourselves out of our jeans. He goes slowly and is worried when I cry out. The pain is acute, yet perfect, and I don’t want him to stop. Ever.

 
    ‘Wow. You look beautiful.’
    It’s Friday night and I’ve made an effort for Joe – an extra effort. I’ve persuaded my parents to go out for dinner and invited him over to the cottage for the evening. I’ve put on a little more make-up than usual and am wearing a short cream and red slip dress with my hair tied up into a tousled bun. I feel a bit overdressed for staying in, but I don’t care.
    ‘Are you hungry?’ I ask.
    ‘Only for you.’
    I laugh. ‘That’s so corny.’
    ‘I know.’ He looks at the oven. ‘That does smell good. What is it?’
    ‘Chicken wrapped in prosciutto with a white wine and cream sauce.’
    His mouth falls open. ‘That sounds amazing!’
    ‘It’s dead easy,’ I say flippantly. ‘It’s my mum’s recipe.’
    ‘Okay, maybe I am a little hungry after all.’
    It’s still bright and sunny outside by the time we sit down at the table, but I light a couple of candles, anyway.
    ‘What time are your parents back?’
    ‘They promised not until eleven.’
    ‘That was decent of them,’ he says. ‘I feel bad.’
    ‘Not bad enough to keep your hands off me, I hope.’
    He grins. ‘No.’
    ‘Then hurry up and eat so we can go upstairs.’
    It’s so different being with him in a bed. Feeling his naked body connected to mine is blissful in the extreme. On two occasions cars go by outside the cottage and we’re both on full alert in case it’s my parents returning early, but the rest of the time there’s nothing on my mind except Joe.
    ‘If you came to Cambridge with me we could do this every day,’ I murmur later.
    ‘Only once a day?’
    ‘I didn’t actually specify that.’
    He laughs. I climb on top of him and peer down at him. We’re both still hot and sweaty from the last time.
    ‘Again?’ he asks with a slight look of concern.
    I giggle. ‘No, don’t worry. Twice was enough.’ Pause. ‘For now.’ I peck him on the lips. He stares up at the ceiling.
    ‘What are you thinking about?’ I ask.
    ‘Nine days.’
    Nine days until I leave.
    My smile falls. ‘I can’t believe I’ve only known you for just over a month.’
    He nods and looks into my eyes. ‘It feels like longer.’
    ‘A lifetime.’
    ‘Not yet.’
    Happiness bubbles through me. ‘Not yet?’
    ‘I love you so much. I can’t imagine ever loving anyone more,’ he says seriously.
    ‘Me neither.’
    Our kiss becomes more passionate and I feel him growing harder beneath me.
    ‘Once more?’ I ask.
    ‘Not if you don’t want to. I don’t want to hurt you.’
    ‘You won’t,’ I whisper.
    At least, not in that way.
    I cry after the last time. It feels more intense somehow, like we know our time together is limited.
    At ten to eleven, Joe is ready to leave. Neither of us wants to face my parents. Every day we’re brought down to earth with a bump, and we don’t want that tonight. It’s been too special.
    ‘I’ll walk you to the gate,’ I say, opening the front door.
    He steps outside onto the driveway and then freezes.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask him.
    He’s tense as he stares into the darkness.
    ‘What?’ I ask, full of alarm. I go to peer out of the door, but he puts his hand out to stop me.
    ‘Dyson!’ he calls