KATE
I hear Weston growing antsy, pacing back and forth in the foyer, waiting for me to come down the stairs. He claims he’s been telling me to hurry my ass up for 30 minutes or so, but I know myself and happen to know that it’s been way longer than that.
I finish curling the last strand of my chestnut brown hair and quickly brush some mascara over my long eyelashes before placing my glasses back on my face. I’m not in the mood to fidget with my contacts all night, so these will have to do. I do a quick once over in the mirror, then grab my purse and head down the stairs.
When I look down, Weston has stopped pacing and is looking up at me with the one expression that manages to stop me in my tracks and cause my insides to turn every single time. There are just no words to describe that look and, to my pleasure, it’s one I see frequently from him.
I could be in over-sized baggy pajamas with chip crumbs dribbled down the front of me and that man still makes me feel like the most beautiful woman to ever have walked the planet.
“Damn.”
I flip my hair and wink at him, strutting past him and out the front door. “I thought you said we were running late? What’s taking you so long?”
He only chuckles as he locks the front door behind him and then comes around to open the passenger door for me.
I remember fighting him over his chivalrous ways when we’d started dating. It seemed silly to me for a teenage boy to open the door and offer to pay on our dates. We were just kids and all the other boys I’d dated never once did any of those things. In fact, I even took it as an insult- a way to say that I wasn’t independent enough to do those things myself.
Weston and I argued about it for days, but the arguing began to take a toll on both of us. Eventually I just bit my tongue to humor him and finally grew to realize he was doing it out of the kindness of his heart, though that particular realization came much later.
Thinking about it now, it almost makes me laugh at the sheer stupidity of the whole thing. It definitely wasn’t worth arguing over.
“Turn around babe.”
I groan. “Not again.”
“Just kidding.” He laughs as he kisses me on the cheek and then puts our car into reverse, expertly steering us into the crazy and overly cramped Boston traffic.
I flip on the radio, humming along to the newest T-Swift song. I’m not a fan of hers, but I’ll admit her songs are more than a little bit catchy.
Weston and I tend to spend most of our joint time together in the car and, while I enjoy every second of it, I really wish it wasn’t the case. I’d love to be able to do what I want whenever I feel like it, but with nearly every second of my days spent traveling to and from shows and rehearsals, it just doesn’t happen the way I would like.
I think that’s another reason why, when Weston kidnaps me for our impromptu dates, I let him woo me with the mystery of where we’re going and what we’re going to be doing. He always goes all out and never disappoints.
Time seems to fade off into the distance as we get caught up on the journey to wherever we’re going. Between our bickering, his grumbling about my changing the stations so frequently, and our need to out rap each other whenever a rap song comes on the radio, everything feels right.
“Bye, Bye Baby.”
“—It’s Ice, Ice.”
“What?” I turn to Wes, his long hair whipping around him from the breeze blowing through the crack in the car window.
“Ice, Ice Baby.” His deep voice begins rapping along to the track playing in the background.
“That makes no sense. Why would it be ‘Ice, Ice baby’? Like, what does that even mean?” He can only laugh at me, but I’m being serious. I just don’t get it.
“Katie Kat, I worry about you, you know?”
“What else is new?” I shrug. “Bye, Bye Baby is much better. I think I’ll stick with it.”
He holds his hands up in surrender for a few seconds before placing them back on the steering wheel.
Eventually, flashing lights of a carousel and Ferris wheel appear in the distance.
“Oh my gosh, Wes. Let’s go. Please, please, please?”
“We’re going to be late for our reservation, Kate.”
“But Wes…” I pucker my lip and put on the best puppy dog eyes I can muster.
“Fine. Just for a short time.”
“Yay!”
I begin bouncing up and down with excitement and Weston just shakes his head, muttering quietly beneath his breath, but too quietly for me to hear what he’s said. He pulls the car into a nearby parking spot and then comes around to open my door for me. He reaches his hand out and pulls me into his arms, planting a needy kiss on my lips. I can’t help the giggly bubble that rises from my throat as his teeth nibble on my bottom lip.
I close my door and he clicks the car remote, locking it firmly behind us, our fingers clasping while we walk closer and closer to the crowd pulsing with excitement.
Weston pays for our entrance into the fair and then we walk through the gates into cluttered, perfect chaos. Kids rush around screaming, arms flailing in the air and I can’t help my smile, knowing that that is our future. I glance up at Weston through the glare in my glasses and see him watching me, gauging my reaction to our surroundings. I can only wink at him before dragging him along to a wooden roller coaster.
“No.” He says firmly, and I just roll my eyes before holding up my wristband and passing the ticket man letting people onto the ride. “A wooden roller coaster? This can’t be safe.”
“Don’t be a baby, Weston Alexander Cahill.”
He squares his shoulders and stalks directly up to the man tending the entry and exit doors.
“My fiancée, right there, is over three months pregnant. Is this ride really safe?”
“Wes!” I hiss through my teeth, but the man doesn’t respond right away and it’s the small pause that gives me hope that maybe I’ll win this round. The man teeter totters back on his feet as he looks between Weston and me, trying his damnedest to not get involved but knowing he needs to.
“Unfortunately, Miss, some of our rides are not recommended for women who are pregnant. I’m sorry to say this, but I will not be able to let you onto the ride.”
I glare at Weston and stomp past him, kicking up dirt behind me as I go.
“Low fucking blow, babe.” I growl at him.
“Hold up, Kate.”
But I don’t stop. It takes Weston catching up to me in a few strides and squaring my body towards him to listen.
“I love you so much. I can’t have something that looks so unsafe and unstable hold my most precious cargo.” My eyes soften towards him, but I’m determined to hold my ground against the piercing eyes drilling holes into me. “I get it that we promised not to worry and to focus on the now, but we can’t be stupid either. The things done now can affect your health and that of our little one. What happened if the bar on that roller coaster jarred you in the stomach? What if when the roller coaster turned, you slid into the side of the car wall and unknowingly caused damage to our baby?”
Tears begin to well in my eyes because I hadn’t thought of that. Since we got here, I’ve rarely thought of the little one growing in my belly. Does that make me a horrible person?
“I know you wouldn’t purposely hurt the baby, but there are so many factors involved that both of us need to be careful of. This isn’t just on you, Kate, so please don’t think that. It’s our child; it’s on both of us to ensure we do everything possible to avoid any complications we might inadvertently cause.”
He pulls me into a hug and I melt into him despite still being upset. I know he was making a point, but it was the delivery of said point that could’ve used some work.
His words finally begin to sink in and I pull back slightly to look up into his eyes. “You’ve been reading my pregnancy books, haven’t you?” I squint, and he gives me his panty dropping smile, not the least bit ashamed at being caught.
“Well, you haven’t been.”
“Okay. Point taken. I love you, Wes.”
“I know, beautiful.”
We take our time walking hand in hand, the sun setting in the distance beginning to cast yellow and blue swirled designs in the sky. It’s quite breathtaking. I let Weston lead me around until he begins to pull me in the direction of the Ferris wheel.
“I can’t. I can’t hurt this baby.” I shake my head vigorously, his voice telling me I could cause damage to our child playing on repeat in my head.
“The Ferris wheel is fine, love. There’s nothing confining you and you’ll be in my arms the entire time. Nothing will hurt you two, I’ll stake my life on it.”
I sigh, glancing around me at the people milling about, knowing where they’re going and what they’d like to do.
“Fine.”
We climb up the stairs and wave our wristbands at the woman manning the entry and exit gates. After a little waiting in line, we finally step up to hamster-styled balls dangling from the wheel. We take our seats and then the wheel begins to move.
I focus on Weston- his arms securely holding me, the slight pucker in his lips, and the bright twinkle the sunset reflects in his eyes. Focusing on him distracts me from how high up we are.
Because I hate heights. I despise them. It’s kind of ironic since I’m a dancer. Dancing is different though. When I fly through the air like a bird, I get this feeling of triumph, like I’m accomplishing something that the average person just can’t. And in a way, I am.
I rest my head in the crook of his neck, feeling his chest breathe air in and out.
It’s kind of cathartic if you ask me, listening to the breathing of your loved ones, feeling the rise and fall of their chest beneath you. Knowing that they are the ones who give your life purpose and meaning by just living.
Weston’s fingers grip my chin and, before I can even blink, our lips find their respective places on each other’s.
I can’t believe my life is like this. Had you told me when I was 16- after I had induced my own abortion and lost all hope- that my life would be as amazing as it is now, I would have laughed in your face and called you a psychotic bitch. And it probably would’ve been in those exact words too. I tended to have an attitude problem back then.
Fate seems to be on my side, though.
I get lost in his lips, his caress, every goddamn thing about the moment sweeps me up and sprinkles me with too many emotions. I have to mentally scream at myself to calm my ass down before I start getting abnormally teary eyed.
“Kate—"
“—Mmm?” I mumble against his lips.
“The ride is over, sweetheart.”
I pull away, looking up at the young ride attendant and can’t help the blush that creeps up my neck and takes up residence on my cheeks. I keep my head down, hair draping in front of my face as we walk off the ride and out the swinging exit door.
“Can we go home now? I kind of need to finish what we just started back there.”
“You don’t need to ask me twice.”
We’re so close to the exit nearest our car when the smell wafting through the air hits my senses and sends my stomach into overdrive. The sweet smells are downright mouthwatering and my need to consume every single one of them is real. My eyes go huge at the plethora of tasty treats, all the way from fried Oreos to pretzels on a stick.
“Oh my. Kill me now.” I grumble, and a deep laugh emanates from Wes.
“I say we try everything.” He says as I turn my dagger eyes onto him. We both know I’m not supposed to eat food like this, but I concede, inching closer and closer towards the Satan snacks. The temptation is too real and, with my willpower waning, I throw all caution to the wind.
I really need those fried Oreos in my life. In fact, I’m pretty sure my entire existence is dependent upon it.
“Let’s do it.” I grab him by the arm, dragging him to the back of the line. Once we are firmly planted behind a lady with full sleeve tattoos, his muscled arms find their way around my waist and his hands rest firmly on top of my toned stomach, I can’t help but to nuzzle into his chest.
Every heartbeat beats for this man. The love that I feel for him is indescribable; no human words are capable of expressing those emotions. It’s as if my world is at peace in his arms; there can be no wrong and we can do no wrong. My dance career will eventually fade and someday my looks may go completely out the window as the gray hairs and wrinkles appear, but beside me he will always be.
“What can I get for you two?” A girl with freckles on her cheeks asks, her glasses slipping down her thin angular nose. I tilt my head looking up at Weston and wait for him to make the choice. “One of everything on the menu.” Her eyes grow to the size of saucers as she manually punches in every item on the menu.
“Dear God. I thought you were joking.” I giggle, watching the order total grow larger.
“Nope. Dead serious, beautiful. If you’re breaking your strict diet regime, we’re going full-force balls-to-the-wall.” He winks at me and I can only roll my eyes in response.
“It comes out to $254.75.” Weston pulls his card from his wallet and hands it over. With one swipe and a quick signature on the bottom line of the receipt, we’re on our way to find a table big enough to fit the massive amount of treats we’ve ordered.
“What did I tell you about spoiling me?” I laugh, cuddling up next to him on the bench of a small picnic table. “We won’t be able to eat everything you ordered.”
“No, I suppose not. But we’re going to damn well try.” He winks at me, his hand finding the curve of my waist as his fingers gently apply a wonderful yet aching pressure.
I rest my head on his large, muscular shoulders and breathe in the light, musky scent of his aftershave. For some reason every time I smell it, I think of our first time.
In the woods, beneath the trees, rolling around in dirt and leaves, steering clear of a nearby cliff because I was convinced that one of us would go plummeting to our death.
“C’mon baby, you can do it.” Weston stands higher up the mountain, laughing as I struggle to not fall. With each step my feet feel as if they are going to fly out from beneath me as I slide on some slippery leaves and dirt.
“Weston, this is not funny.” I grumble, taking the world’s tiniest baby steps imaginable. I wouldn’t be surprised if even a spider scurrying along happens to be faster than I am.
“At this rate, we’ll reach the top of the mountain by tomorrow.”
“Shut your face.” I blow a kiss to him before reaching my arms wide out to catch my balance, though it does very little help to secure me. I step over a fallen branch and then glance behind me, immediately wishing I hadn’t. My stomach plunges and I slide down to my knees and sit on my butt, refusing to move.
“Katie Kat, I told you not to look behind you.” He chuckles, but all I can do is inhale and exhale in an attempt to release all the tension.
Heights. I really, really, really hate them.
I hear the leaves crunch behind me and then feel Weston’s arms lifting me up. He turns and begins trekking us up the hill while I wrap my arms around him. He’s whispering sweet little nothings into my ear, but for some reason, my focus is on his arms holding me tight.
We’ve gotten serious and I can’t imagine myself being with any other boy, which is crazy to say when you’re only 19, but it’s true. Despite our one year of dating, we haven’t done more than heavy making out and petting. There were some times we almost went further, but it seemed that every time, my memories from that one night with Ayden in the backseat of the car came rushing back and I chickened out.
He sets me down on my feet and I look around us, slowly taking steps further away from the edge of what looks to be a steep cliff, not that I’m going to risk a closer look. I’m stopped by his hands resting on my shoulders, holding me steadily in place.
“I got you, Kate.” I turn, standing on my tippy toes and wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my face into his chest. I can feel our hearts beating against each other and my breathing becomes shallow as his lips melt into mine.
“You always do.” I slide my hand up under his shirt, rubbing my nails lightly against every curve of his abs.
“Kate?” He questions, uncertainty filling his deep green orbs. I know that look, I’ve come to recognize it as the I want to do the right thing, but you’re killing me here expression. Normally I pull back and, even as a teenage boy with needs and wants, Weston never pushes. He respects my boundaries, which is more than I can say for most.
“It’s okay, Wes.” I nod to him, kissing him furiously, playing with the baby hairs on the back of his neck. His tongue brushes my lips and I open up to him, welcoming him and deepening the kiss. I can feel his hands roaming my body, but it doesn’t faze me, I want this.
Our clothing is shed, piece by piece. He lays me on a soft bed of leaves and I can already feel a twig beneath my back. It’s uncomfortable, yet at the same time, it’s hard to focus on anything but his warm, wet lips sucking my beaded nipple into his mouth, need pooling at my base in a way I’ve never felt before.
This isn’t the backseat of a car. It isn’t in the most ideal place ever either, but for Weston, I would give the world. For now, I’ll settle with my body.
I’m his to own.
And I need this, probably more than he does.
“Number 82.” The young girl calls from the window. I bounce up from my seat and head towards the opening in the glass but am stopped by Weston’s hands on my waist.
“Not so fast, beautiful.” He laughs when I turn to glare at him. “Go sit, I’ll bring it to you.”
I shrug and walk back to our seats, my stomach grumbling in anticipation for the overabundance of snacks I’m getting ready to shove my face with.
It takes Wes six trips up to the window before he has all the food spread out in front of us. It’s more food than I pictured when he ordered. Suddenly the young girls’ reaction to his unusual request makes all the sense in the world.
That’s my man.
“Mmm.... This is fucking delicious. Try it babe.” He hands a me a half-eaten corn dog covered in nacho cheese and hot Cheetos.
“That looks so gross.” I look at him, giggling at the drop of cheese that has dribbled down his lip.
“True, but it’s awesom—” His words fade off into nothingness when I lean forward and run my tongue over his soft, masculine lips, cleaning up the mess. “So, how does it taste?” He winks and I wink back, enjoying every damn second of his eyes ravaging my body.
“Not bad actually, but you taste a lot better.”
“I could say the same thing, Katie.”
I flip my hair and begin devouring the disgusting looking, but utterly amazing, corn dog. Okay, so he was right, it’s pretty darn great, but I won’t admit that to him.
I place the empty stick onto one of the trays beginning to already fill up with leftover wrappers and trash, then dive into a cinnamon roll sundae before it melts on me. It’s topped with peanuts, cinnamon sprinkles and oozing with chocolate syrup.
Weston happens to be devouring a turkey leg and it reminds me of those old kings from the medieval time frame with crooked crowns and big food bellies to boot. Although he is much more handsome and doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him, it’s what he reminds me of as he digs his teeth in, bite after bite. In fact, it’s beginning to make me feel nauseated.
I set my spoon down, taking deep breaths to settle the turning in my stomach, but it doesn’t help. With each second the nausea grows worse and begins to work its way back up my throat as my head suddenly becomes lightheaded. I stand and rush to the nearest trash.
Weston is on my heels, rubbing circles on my back as everything in my stomach expels itself from my body. When I’m sure nothing else is going to come out, I wipe my mouth with the napkin that Wes hands me before taking my seat and sipping my water.
“Pregnancy at its finest, I assume.” I grumble, but when Weston’s sympathetic eyes meet mine, it eases my newfound grumpiness immediately. “I thought you weren’t supposed to get sick after you’re past your first trimester?”
“It’s not uncommon for women to get morning sickness after the first 12 weeks. Some women even experience it throughout their entire pregnancy, unfortunately.” He says, matter of factly.
“Oh goodness. Are you going to be spewing out baby facts during my entire pregnancy? Cause it’s cute now, but something tells me it just might irritate the bejeezus out of me by the time I push this baby out.”
“I cannot confirm nor deny that I may or may not be doing that as payback for the many, many things I have to put up with from you.”
He laughs as he stands up and helps me toss the majority of the food we just couldn’t eat. Seeing all of it go to waste makes me sad, but no way am I going to keep trying to eat when I’m barely holding my organs inside my body as is.
“You ready to head home?” He pulls me close and kisses me on the forehead. “Cause before I’m kissing that pretty mouth of yours again, you need to brush your teeth.”
I smack him lightly on the chest.
“Bite me.”
“Oh, my little dancer, I intend to.” He waggles his eyebrows and I push him away.
I can’t even with him sometimes.