There I was.
Tangled in a sheet that wasn’t my own with the arms of a boy wrapped around me. The air conditioner hummed in the air as the sunlight tried to sneak in through the curtain. I slowly turned my head to take a look at Wesley who was sound asleep. Watching people sleep is utterly fascinating—they’re faces are always so blank, yet somehow, they always seem to have a look of calmness at the same time.
I smiled in disbelief as I watched Wesley for a few seconds; his pouty mouth, his naturally long eyelashes that always enhanced his green eyes and a light layer of stubble that was attempting to grow—he looked absolutely lovely. I was pleased that I could witness him in such a state.
To avoid waking him, I turned back around and rested my head on the pillow we shared and tried to go back to sleep. Wesley tightened his grip around me slightly, and instead of sleeping, I smiled to myself and recounted the night that ended just a few hours prior.
Somehow we managed to enter his apartment successfully without ever taking our mouths off of one another. We made it to his bedroom and only took a pause to turn on the air-conditioner (it was over 90 degrees outside, and it was about to get hotter) and to turn on a lamp. Before I knew it, my dress was on the floor, piled on Wesley’s shirt and pants, just as he was on top of me.
Our lips moved furiously together—I could tell he wanted me, and by the time his mouth met that one spot on my neck, I knew that I wanted him just as much, if not more. Lying naked beneath Wesley, I felt completely comfortable with my body—in fact, I hadn’t felt that sexy or confident in a long time. Though I felt at ease with my physical self, a few things were running through my mind: What if I don’t meet up to his standards? What is he doesn’t meet mine? What if we have sex and then that’s it? What if it’s awkward?
Suddenly my mind was filled with poisonous thoughts whose mission was to make me unsure of myself. For just a few seconds, I began to second-guess my decision. Was this moving to fast? Was this a good idea? All of these questions stopped mattering when I opened my eyes and saw him looking down at me.
“What?” I asked curiously. Wesley shook his head slightly as his green eyes peered into my brown ones.
“Nothing, I just really like you,” he said. I imagine my face lit up as I smiled, half bashfully and half thrilled at the words that had just come out of his mouth.
“I like you too,” I said and kissed him to let him know how much. Those words were what I needed to hear to make me relaxed and allow myself to open up to him. And after that moment, I allowed Wesley to enter me—both my body and my heart.
I felt Welsey stir behind me. I squeezed his hand to let him know I was awake and he applied the same pressure back. I turned around to face him and a smile suddenly emerged on my face—I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. I was waking up next to a guy who I genuinely really liked, who made me feel good (in several ways) and who was seeing what I looked liked in the morning, and not running away.
“Good morning,” he said, his teeth were still pearly white and his eyes appeared to be even brighter that early in the day.
“Good morning,” I said right back. Before I knew it, we were back in the same compromising positions we were in the night before, and my, was it a great way to begin the day. Wesley’s alarm went off not long after—reality was calling and although I didn’t work, he had most of his cases on the weekend. He got up to turn it off and spun back around to look at me.
“Wanna jump in the shower with me in a few minutes?” he asked slyly, clearly referring to an earlier conversation we had about how much I loved showers. I nodded without hesitation.
“I’d love to,” I said and followed him into the bathroom. He turned on the water as I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was bigger and frizzier than usual, I had a bit of mascara residue beneath my eyes, my mouth was a bit swollen, and even though I had barely slept, I somehow looked well rested. Rejuvenated. I looked away from myself as the mirror began to steam up from the heat.
“Here you go,” he said, handing me a towel. “You know, you’re very lucky I have two towels,” he said playfully and kissed my cheek.
“Oh, am I now?” I asked sarcastically. I put the towel down and stepped into the shower with him laughing softly because I knew, and he knew, that we were both lucky for more than just his second towel.
Much, much more.