Season of Salt and Honey by Hannah Tunnicliffe Read Free Book Online Page B

least partly true. We pooled our money and booked a motel. We’d talked about it for months. I barely remember the prom because I was already thinking about the motel and staying with Alex for the whole night without having to say good-bye. I knew we would make love that night. We’d talked about that too. A girl in my class, Janet Longhurst, told me she’d lost her virginity at a house party to a college boy. Who wants to lose their virginity like that? To some college boy you’ll never see again. I didn’t want that. I wanted it to be with Alex, for it to be sweet and honest and real. I wanted it to be with Alex for the rest of my life. Every minute of that long prom, I thought about waking up in his arms. And when he looked at me like he could see through my prom dress it sent electric waves up and down my spine.
    We left the prom hand in hand, ignoring the teasing from his friends. Someone had tied cans to the back of his dad’s car, like we were a bride and groom. I got out a mile down the road, in my long blue dress and heels, and untied them. Cars drove by honking, with guys hanging out the windows, whistling and carrying on. Alex raised his middle finger out the driver’s window, but he was grinning; we both were.
    When we checked in to the motel he put on a deep voice forthe receptionist. I was clinging on to his hand so tight I thought I might scream.
    Alex unlocked the door to the room and let me go in first. The floor was carpeted in plush navy, and the bed was covered in a worn, floral bedspread that made Alex laugh out loud. “Grandma did the decor.”
    I pulled the blinds down and rushed into his arms, desperate for his lips on mine. We kissed until my face hurt.
    On that navy carpet, my dress twisted up around my hips, Alex sat back off of me, a little breathless. “Wait.”
    â€œWait?”
    â€œI got something.” He reached over to the backpack he’d brought in from the car, unzipped the front pocket. Tea-light candles tumbled out. He retrieved a couple of handfuls more, then dug around until he found a black lighter. He flicked it on and raised his eyebrows at me. “Come with me.”
    I pulled my dress down, stood, and followed him into the bathroom. The light was one of those long fluorescent bulbs. There was a bathtub with a showerhead over it, and a small sink with a mirror. I noticed my lipstick was smeared around my mouth, and the pimple on my forehead that I’d smothered with concealer was poking through in a raised bump. I wiped the lipstick off with the back of my hand before Alex snapped off the light. He lit the candles one by one, arranging them around the tub. I bundled up the shower curtain—floral again, with gray mold stains at the bottom—and slung it over the curtain rail before turning on the bath taps.
    The candle flames flickered over the water filling the tub, andI no longer noticed the worn linoleum or the chipped tiles. It was just Alex and me, the running water and dozens of little lights, dancing on their wicks.
    I turned off the taps while Alex lit the last candle and placed it on the edge of the sink. We were surrounded. Then he came over to me, so close I could feel his breath against my cheek.
    â€œHey, baby.”
    â€œHey.” My voice came out deep and soft.
    He put his finger underneath the strap of my dress and tugged it off my shoulder. He kissed down my neck. Then my other strap. He turned me around and kissed down the back of my neck. It was like a feather being skimmed over my skin. Incredible. Teasing. It felt like the room was spinning.
    I heard the zzzzhhhhh of the zip and felt the dress go slack. I breathed out as it fell. His hands moved to my chest where the dress had been holding in my breasts. His palms against me, against my nipples, making me moan. He pulled me back against him and I could feel him through the fabric of his rented suit pants. I reached around and fumbled with his