Mr. Jonas, I Have a Confession

It’s been a week since mine and Nick’s near kiss. I’ve been avoiding him as much as possible, which sounds insane, but I have never flirted so hard, or told a boy (let alone a 24-year-old man) to kiss me. We take quick glances at one another when we need the bathroom in the morning and speak only at the dinner table and at practice. Strictly professional, like we never attempted to be more.

“Kenna, you need to talk to Nick about this,” Noelle grumbled on the phone for what seemed to be the umpteenth time since I told her. She plopped herself down on her bedroom’s window sill bench, and I watched as she unscrewed a cap of her new nail polish. Our windows were about 50 yards apart, but when we sat on our individual window benches and talks on the phone, it felt like we were 50 millimeters apart.

“Noel, I know,” I admitted. “It’s just so weird, though, you know? Besides, if he wanted to talk about it, he would have approached me by now.” I stuck my head out the window and looked toward the back porch. Nick was performing his usual laps in the pool, and Noelle’s view was much better.

“It’s the 21st century, Ken. Take control,” she stated, admiring her nails. “He may be 24, but you were always mature for your age. He’s acting more like the 18-year-old than you.”

I huffed, realizing she was right. I needed to take control of this “relationship” if I wanted it. “I’ll do it tonight.”

~~

My parents had left an hour later for their monthly social gathering with their friends, which meant I had until morning to confront Nick about our situation since I knew they would be drinking. Noelle told me I wasn’t allowed to use her as an escape route. This time, I was on my own.

I decided to keep it as normal as possible. Nick was still in the pool. His laps became pool exercises about half an hour ago, then back to laps, and now more exercises.

“Hey,” I spoke as I sat on the old wooden swing. It was barely a whisper, but Nick managed to hear it. “I hope you don’t mind me interrupting.”

“No,” he stated, swimming to the edge nearest me, “I never mind.”

“So,” I droned out as I absentmindedly played with a rock in the grass.

“So, let’s talk,” Nick said for me, hoisting himself out of the pool and sitting on the edge. I twitched my head to the side, signaling him to come sit with me. He obeyed.

“I want to apologize for what happened,” I blurted.

“I want to apologize, Kenna. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. I mean, I’m your coach.”

“Yeah, you are.” I looked down and bit my lip, trying to keep myself from blurting out anything stupid. I brought my knees to my chest, resting my right cheek on my knees to face Nick. “What do you think we should do?”

He sighed heavily, staring out across the open yard. “I know I shouldn’t say this, but I want to be with you.” My head perked up at his words. “No one can know, though, except Noelle.”

“Trust me, no one will know,” I smiled, hugging him.

~~

Nick showered as I made him and I grilled cheeses. The music for the menu of “She’s The Man” played in the living room.

“Don’t forget the popcorn!” Nick yelled from upstairs.

“Got it!” I replied, flipping the last sandwich and sticking a bag of popcorn in the microwave. I was only wearing a sports bra and shorts, my usual attire for a night by myself. Strong arms encapsulated my waist, bringing me closer to Nick’s bare chest. The scent of mint and McGraw cologne wafted into my nose. I smiled as I felt Nick kiss the top of my head.

“I love watching you cook,” he whispered, moving to the microwave to stop the popcorn from burning. I flipped the last grilled cheese onto Nick’s plate and poured us both a glass of lemon water. To me, this was the picture perfect date night.

The movie played as we ate and caught up on our six years of life without one another. It turns out, Nick switched his major from Physical Education to Secondary English. I always knew he was pursing the wrong career, even though his body would tell you otherwise. Nick’s writing had always been a huge part of his life, and he was the one who encouraged me to write.

“So, what do you write?” I asked him.

“Mostly poems and lyrics,” he answered, mentioning he had sang and played his guitar on the side when he was in college for extra money.

“Did you write anything about me?” I joked, hitting his shoulder before throwing a piece of popcorn in the air, watching it with my mouth.

“Actually,” he sheepishly began, “I did.” My mouth flew open, a blush already creeping up my neck. “Do you wanna hear it?” I nodded and he excused himself to grab his guitar.

When he returned, he sat closer to me, our knees touching. He declared the title of his song as “Fly With Me,” and then he began to strum. His eyes closed, and his voice left his mouth, hitting me like silk sheets against my body during a night’s sleep. I stared at him in amazement. His voice had improved since he was 16 and sang at my tenth birthday party.

“What do you think?” he asked once he concluded, gently setting his guitar on the coffee table.

My actions surprised me. I jumped up, kissing Nick hard, and causing him to fall backward with me on top of him.

“Did you like it?” he joked, his smile giving away what he already knew.

I sat up slightly, situating myself on Nick’s abdomen as his hands held me in place. “Did I ever tell you how much I love an athlete or a musician?”

He looked at me with confusion. “No, why?”

“Well, I do,” I stated, slowly lowering myself back down to his lips. “Imagine how much I would love to be with an athlete and musician?”

He chuckled, tossing his head back and exposing his neck. Oh, how much I would love to kiss that neck. “You’re turned on right now, aren’t you?”

“And you’re not?” I teased.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, grabbing the back of my neck and bringing me back down to his waiting lips, my hair creating a red curtain around us.