Fourteen by C.M. Smith Page B

feebly and swung my legs in between the bars as I looked down at my lap.
    “Hey.” He removed his hand and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look over at him. “I will never consider getting to know you and being with you a mistake of any kind. Believe that, okay?”
    Easier said than done.
    “Yeah,” I said, my voice cracking. “Okay.”
    “Promise?”
    “Mm-hm.”
    “I wanna hear you say the words, Anna.”
    I huffed. “I promise.”
    “That’s better.”
    He trailed his thumb over my bottom lip, and I looked away from him, noticing the sky had turned to a pink color.
    “Doesn’t this hurt your ass?” he groaned.
    I looked back over at him and laughed at the expression on his face.
    “I’ve got enough padding back there.”
    “Knock it off.” He rolled his eyes. “Your ass is fine.”
    My face burned, and I looked away again, listening to him clear his throat.
    “I mean it’s . . .”
    “Stop talking.”
    “Yep.”
    “We can get down, if you want. There’s a little platform in the playhouse that we can sit on.”
    “What time do you need to be home?” he asked as he pulled his legs out from the spaces and climbed down.
    “I don’t think it really matters.”
    I waited until he was safely on the ground before I climbed down and jumped to the ground in front of him.
    “Your dad really doesn’t pay much attention, does he?”
    “No.” I sighed, starting toward the playhouse. “He’s . . . I don’t even know.”
    I heard his footsteps behind me. “Hey!” I yelled when he pulled on my elbow, leading me toward the big yellow slide. “What are you doing?”
    He didn’t say anything as he plopped down into the end of the slide, spreading his legs. I looked at him skeptically, and he laughed, rolling his eyes before grabbing my hand and gently pulling me down to rest in between them.
    “I’m watching the sunset with you,” he said.
    My heart threatened to beat out of my chest, and I cleared my throat so that my voice wouldn’t crack and give me away when I spoke. “You’re one of those cuddlers, aren’t you?”
    He leaned forward, grabbing onto my waist and pulling me backward until my back was pressed up against his chest. He kept his arms around my waist, and I looked down, wondering if he could feel every little imperfection that my shirt was hiding—the stretch marks, the rolls, the way it was softer than what I was sure he was used to.
    “I never have been much of a cuddler before,” he mused. “I guess a lot of things about me are changing, huh?”
    I forced myself to relax against him, placed my hands on his wrists, and leaned my head back against his chest. He felt solid. I’d never been held like this by anyone else before, and I couldn’t say that I hated it. I felt safe and strangely secure.
    “Do you consider it a good change or a bad one?”
    “Definitely a good one, Anna.” He slid his legs down beside mine, keeping me close and trapped against him. “Most definitely a good one.”
    “And you’ll still think all of this tomorrow?”
    “I wish you’d trust me,” he said. “I know it’s hard, and I know it’s gonna take time, but I really wish that you would because I mean it.”
    “I’m trying to, Evan.”
    “I know. I know that. I just . . . ugh.”
    I laughed and rubbed his arms, watching as the pink in the sky disappeared and black overtook it.
    “We’re getting there.”
    “Progress.”
    “Yes.” I smiled and closed my eyes, tilting my head and taking a deep breath, the scent of his musky cologne filling my nose. “Progress.”
    We stayed there, talking about whatever came to us until the sun completely set and I had to lead him back through the woods, laughing each time he squealed when he was positive something furry had brushed up against him. How he knew it was furry when he was wearing jeans was beyond me, but I was too busy laughing to even think of asking him about it.
    He held onto my hand like it was a lifeline, and I swear, if I