~Blake~
He could feel his resolve melting away, all over again.
It always did. One kiss with Leslie would lead to two. Then to more, with his lips traveling from her mouth to her cheek, to her ear, to the sensitive spot on her neck, which would cause her to throw her head back and press her body against his, her hands finding the freedom to roam as they pleased, as he pleased, his hands quickly doing the same, all alone at her house with Travis out for the night.
Purity was a desirable goal. A good, godly goal to desire, but Blake found himself desiring only one thing on those late nights when Leslie was in his arms like this.
He didn’t want to be that kind of guy, the kind of guy he’d been before Christ had changed his heart. And though it wasn’t the driving force behind the desire to do right, part of his commitment to purity was that he didn’t want to be like his dad, making choices now that would have a negative impact on the rest of his life. He didn’t want to be the guy who had no self-control, who risked getting a girl pregnant, who ended up resenting her for years afterwards, who resented his own child, who was sad and miserable and pathetic –
Leslie was attempting to pull his shirt off.
His eyes were already closed, but he found himself clenching them tighter shut, fighting against all that he wanted to do, all that would come so naturally as she struggled against the hands that he moved to her wrists in a vain effort to stop her.
“Slow down,” he said softly, noting to himself that he hadn’t told her to stop completely. How could he, when he didn’t really want her to stop? It was still a valiant and admirable protest, though, he told himself, as her hands stilled and she breathed out a little gasp.
“Blake…”
There was pleading in her voice. That was doing immensely troubling things to both his body and his heart, the tone of her voice that suggested that waiting like this was hurting her as much as it was hurting him.
Purity. Doing the right thing. Honoring God.
He took a breath, opening up his eyes.
“We need to take a breather,” he said, his next few ragged breaths giving proof to this.
“Why?” she asked, leaning in again for another kiss, nearly making him forget why he’d stopped her in the first place.
Her lips on his, his mind going places it shouldn’t –
“Leslie,” he said more emphatically this time. “We need to slow down. Because if we keep on, I won’t be able to stop.”
He could feel her hesitate, and he was thankful, knowing that she understood what he was saying, that she would back away now, that she would leave him no room to make a bad decision now.
“I don’t want to stop,” she said, boldness in the words.
“Leslie, please,” he managed, cringing at the way his voice cracked at the end of the word. He was smoother than this, or at least, he had been, back before she’d come into his life.
“I don’t want to stop,” she said again, and this time there was even more confidence and boldness in the statement. She meant it, with her eyes on him, determination in her expression.
She leaned in again, and he let her kiss him this time, even as the still small voice in the back of his mind cried out for him to stop and think it through –
“We have to stop, though,” he said, backing away, ignoring the other voice in his head that gave a dramatic groan. “We really have to.”
“But we don’t,” she countered. “I mean, I know you’ve already… well, before, you probably…”
They’d not had that discussion. Not in detail, at least. She’d assumed that he had a past, and she’d been right. He hadn’t clarified it or fleshed out the details for her beyond her assumption.
But it still stung a little, that she automatically jumped to this. Especially since he’d changed.
Not that he could hold that against her since it was the truth. And not that it was even on his mind for more than a fraction of a second given that she was alluding to it as a means of justifying how far she wanted to go with him…
“Yeah,” he said, his mind already labeling his past as something that was far beyond them and what they were sharing. “But that was then.”
“And this is now,” she said, her hands still on him. “And… well, it’s different with me, isn’t it?”
In a thousand ways. He cared about her. That was the biggest difference. She wasn’t just another girl. She meant something more to him than any of the others ever had.
“I love you,” he said just as he’d said it before. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”
“And I love you,” she answered back, her smile growing even more brilliant. “So we love each other, and I… I want you.”
She was making her intentions very clear. Blake didn’t have to guess at her meaning. For a fleeting moment, he thought about his boastful claim to all the other guys at the beginning of the year as they’d watched her walk across the parking lot at the high school. About how he’d sleep with her.
And here she was, offering just that.
So much had changed since then, the greatest of which was his integrity. His heart, too, because all he could think of was her and how what she was suggesting wasn’t… well, it sounded so good.
He could hear his boys and the conversation they’d had a few weeks back as they’d been running laps. Off season training was a little less brutal than being in the midst of football training. The coaches just had to keep them busy, especially the seniors who wouldn’t be returning in the fall. Why spend time training them to do much of anything when they wouldn’t be getting the school any closer to that coveted state championship? So, laps it was, which was fine with Blake.
It wasn’t fine that it forced him into conversations with friends whom he’d grown so distant from. Maybe he should have made a better effort when he first came to Christ, sharing his faith with them while it was still a novelty, when he knew so little about it but could still relate so well to where they all were. Clueless, just like he’d been.
He’d been convicted about it during Bible study one week, thinking about how the farther he got away from his own conversion, the less he said anything to anyone about coming to faith. How was it that, as he learned more and more about who Christ was, he was sharing less and less about Him?
Blake didn’t know. And he didn’t know if he even wanted to repair the rift between him and his old friends. He and Leslie had gone to a party the week before, just like he used to do before he’d become a believer. Chase had offered an invite, and Leslie had been with him and had said they’d go before Blake could even inject a word.
“I don’t want to keep you from your old friends,” she’d said later. “They must miss you, you know? I feel like we spend all of our time together.”
That’s the way he wanted it. Her, too. But he appreciated the sentiment, even if it didn’t change what happened at the party, that neither one of them paid any attention to anyone around them but took the freedom they felt without Travis in the next room, and…
“Hey.”
Blake felt his shoulder nudged and looked to see that Chase had caught up to him.
“Hey,” he answered, nodding at the other boy. “What’s up?”
They were between miles 2 and 3, and Chase was looking out of breath.
He still managed to talk, though.
“Not much,” he huffed out, almost in a wheeze. “Parents are out of town this weekend. Again.”
His parents always seemed to be out of town. Blake had loved that before, back when he’d taken advantage of those times, being one of the wildest guys at the parties.
But now…
“Oh,” he said. “Cool.”
“Figure you and Leslie might want to come,” he said. Despite the breathlessness in his voice, he still managed a wolfish grin in his friend’s direction. “You seemed to enjoy the last one.”
Yes, he had. So had Leslie. They were supposed to have been on a date to a restaurant then to a movie, just like they’d told Travis they would be, but Chase had mentioned the party at the end of chemistry one day and Leslie had jumped on the offer, almost as if to further prove that she was an adult and didn’t have to answer to her brother about everything.
Blake hadn’t wanted to go. He’d wanted to do the right thing, but Leslie had charmed him into it, pleading with him playfully until he told her he’d go. He’d do anything for her. He loved her.
It had been like he thought it would be. Dark rooms, no chaperones, Leslie’s skin on his…
But he’d done the right thing. Eventually.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” he’d said, praying that they would be done running soon.
“Looks like you’re going to win the bet after all,” Chase said. “The other guys said you were out because of how you go to church and all now, but I told them that’s no big deal. Going to church doesn’t make you a good guy anymore than going into a garage makes you a truck.” Chase managed to bark out a laugh at his own cleverness.
But Blake just felt guilty.
“No bet,” he said, thinking about Leslie and how wrong it was that he’d ever made any boastful claim.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” Chase had said, just as Blake pushed past him for a faster finish.
It was on his mind as he watched Leslie looking at him hopefully, wanting to take things further than was wise.
We love each other, and I want you.
He wanted her, too. But he’d be no better than who he’d been if he did anything with her now. She was worth waiting for. Worth treating right. Worth treasuring. Worth even waiting for marriage, like he was learning was God’s intent for men and women.
He loved Leslie enough to respect her and not push things any further.
Even as he thought it, a voice in the back of his mind taunted him, whispering accusations about how he hadn’t felt that way at the party that weekend. Or he hadn’t acted like it, at least. He’d been all over her, right there at a crowded party, not caring one little bit about purity or –
He had to be better.
“Leslie,” he said, gingerly and carefully picking her up so that she wasn’t sitting on his lap anymore. “I love you.”
He could see it in her eyes, that his words didn’t match his actions. How could “I love you” be followed with distance, with him putting space between them?
“I love you,” he said again, putting his hands in hers and willing his body to calm down, lowering his voice and speaking as plainly as possible.
“Then what’s the problem?” she asked, leaning in towards him and kissing him again.
He felt like he was at war. With her and himself. And why wouldn’t he be since he’d done such a poor job of controlling himself earlier? Wasn’t this what he had coming to him for being so free and easy with her earlier?
“Leslie,” he said, breaking away from her lips, praying for the right words. “Wait. Please.”
She sat back, a frustrated little murmur in the sigh that she gave.
Frustration. He could understand that better than she could imagine.
“This isn’t how I want this to go,” he said.
“Travis is out for the next few hours,” she insisted, looking over at the door. “He and Holly and Brooke. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “This isn’t… this isn’t right. This isn’t what we’re supposed to be doing.”
He could see it in her eyes, just the hint of conviction.
Finally. He knew it had to be there. Not like he’d been helping it along, but he was thankful for it all the same.
“I know,” she said softly. “But Blake –”
“You’re worth waiting for,” he said. He meant it, with everything in him. She was worth waiting for, and he would be better. How many times had he promised himself this after saying goodnight to her? How many times had he gone back on his word?
But he would do it this time. He had to. He had to be a better man than he’d been. A better man than his father.
He had to be. She made him believe he could be.
“I’m worth waiting for,” Leslie said. “Is that really what you think?”
It pleased her, these words. They were the truth, and he would change what he was doing, because Christ had redeemed him and because Leslie believed in him.
“You are,” he said softly. “Leslie, you are.”
And she believed him again, leaning in to kiss him once more.