Cassius

We eat ice cream and hold hands, and the whole time I can’t keep my hands off her. And when I lean close, kiss her sweet ice cream lips, I know I have it bad for this girl.

“So, you live in LA,” she says, “but who do you live with? Give me some details.”

We step off the pier and slip off our shoes. I roll up my cuffs and she picks up her hem. We’re going to walk along the shore, because that’s what you do when you’re in California, and young, and ready to give into the unexpected.

“Yeah, so I live with my brother—he’s my manager—and Gina.”

“Who’s she?” Evangeline asks. The sun is floating over her shoulders, and when she stands with the water behind her she looks like a mermaid. An apparition. A dream.

I must have a funny look on my face, because she stops and grabs my arm. “Please tell me you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t. Gina and I broke up a few weeks ago.”

“But you live with her?”

“She hooked up with my brother before she and I broke up.”

“What the heck? Cassius, that’s ….”

“Fucked up?”

“Yeah.”

“I know.”

“But you guys are cool now?” she asks.

We’ve made it to the edge of the strip of shore, and there’s no one here—nothing here but lazy trees and thick bushes, far from the edge of anything.

I take a seat on a piece of driftwood in the secluded cove, and Evangeline sits beside me.

“Not cool, exactly. It’s complicated. How do you cut ties with the only people you have?”

She laughs, softly. Sadly. “If I knew … I already would have.”

“Your dad?”

“It’s like he wants me to be … less than I am and more than I am at the exact same time, and I just wonder if I can be neither. If, instead, I could just be myself.”

“Oh, baby, you speak my language.”

She shakes her head. “No, you may be a musician, but your language is words.”

“And yours?”

“Playing the piano is the only place I’ve ever really been able to be myself. I love it, I do, deep in my soul I do … but I started to play for my mom, and now it just feels like that’s the way my dad wants to control me.”

“Pretty heavy shit for a first date,” I tease, wrapping my arm around her. Her skin is so soft, and I cradle her face with my other hand.

I hold her, and then she’s holding me, and maybe it makes sense because it shouldn’t. Because she’s this fucking precious girl and I’m a fucking fool. But I want her. I need her.

I know I don’t deserve her.

“I want to hear you play,” I tell her.

“I want to quit Julliard,” she admits, her lips inches from mine. “I stopped playing after my mom died. I hate it there. It’s cold and depressing, and not my speed. I’m not ambitious like the other students. And I know I shouldn’t unload on you—you’re a stranger. But maybe that’s why you feel so safe?”

“I’m not safe. You know that, Evangeline. You Googled the shit out of me. I’m too messy for a girl like you.”

“I think you’re wrong. I think you’re exactly right for me.”

I kiss her then—no, more like I crash into her. I scoop her into my lap, and she’s straddling me, because she fits against me in ways she shouldn’t.

Her hands are in my hair, and my hands hold her ass, pulling her to me in a desperate, greedy way, in a way that says I’m taking you here, now. I am having my way with you.

“Cassius,” she moans into my mouth, her tongue circling mine, as we breathe in and out, both of us finally taking in all the air we’ve been looking for all day. We find it in one another.

No one’s here—we’re on a secluded beach—so I pick her up, with her legs twined around my waist, and I carry her around the cove, where no one can see us or find us. I drop to my knees before her, wrap my arms around her waist, inhale the sweet scent that she’s offering me.

She pulls down her strapless dress, uncovers her tits, revealing that her body is ready for mine. Her nipples are peaked, and I reach to pull her dress completely off.

She isn’t wearing any panties, just like she’d promised. She knew why we were going out tonight—and fuck, I love her for it.

With her naked before me, I run my hands over her, pressing my face to her perfect mound, leaving a trail of kisses against her. I’m completely turned on by her willingness to fuck me here, now. We’re in a remote spot, but the sun hasn’t set, and the truth is, this is reckless.

But I have a feeling that’s what she craves most of all: a chance to be completely undone. Untethered. Carefree.

I can help her with that.

“Cassius,” she moans. My arms wrap around her waist; her hands run over my shoulders, tugging off my shirt. “Please, don’t take too long. I want you against me, in my arms. I want you in me.”

I unbutton my shirt, unbuckle my pants. I stand, and she runs her hand over my chest, reading the words inked across my chest: And I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinking.

“What does this mean to you?” she asks, tracing the letters of the Bob Dylan lyrics.

“It means as long as my head is above water, my heart’s still beating. I haven’t drowned.”

“We’re standing on the shore right now,” she whispers, her mouth pressing against the words that mean so much to me. “We’re breathing.”

“Yes,” I tell her, sliding off my pants. “We are very much alive.”