At first, I thought it was ironic that I had never been to Taylor's apartment in Winnipeg and yet was about to step foot into his Toronto place, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made.
In Winnipeg, we had lots of places where we could hang out if we wanted a quiet, private place; in Toronto, it seemed like there were people everywhere, and those people knew who Taylor was because of course. Besides, based on the little Taylor had said about his Winnipeg apartment building, it seemed like a place you wanted to spend as little time in as possible. I didn't think it was bad, necessarily, but if it was like most of the apartments in Winnipeg, it was small and grey and cold.
But this place, this condominium complex in downtown Toronto, seemed unbelievably swanky.
Everything about it, from the evergreen bushes standing in urns near the front doors to the polished marble floors in the lobby, was well manicured.
"How can you afford this place?" I joked with Taylor on the elevator ride up to his floor.
I was only half-joking, actually.
"I can't," he said, pressing the button for his floor and then glancing at me. "The team owns a few condos in this building, and they allow some of the new, younger players to live in them until they have enough time and money to get something more permanent."
Damn, that was a pretty sweet deal. Living in a place like this for free? Where do I sign up? Was it too late for me to become a professional hockey player? Actually, would it even matter? Everyone knew that women hockey players were vastly underpaid compared to their male counterparts, but that's a rant for another day.
"Okay, this is it," Taylor said as he opened the door.
Oh. My. Millionaire.
The place was huge. And sophisticated. And if I had to guess, furnished with nothing less than Restoration Hardware. Maybe Pottery Barn, if the decorators wanted to cut a few corners at some points.
"This is it?" I gawked. "You said that like you were about to open the door to a box. Taylor, this place is incredible! Jesus!"
I couldn't help myself. Without even bothering to kick off my bootsâthe ground was dry, free of snowâI bounced around the shiny, hardwood floors. The design was open-concept, with the kitchen, dining area, and living area coexisting flawlessly without any walls. I had always thought of myself as a house person, but I could certainly see myself in a condo like this. Of course, it was probably just as expensive, if not more expensive, than a house.
Based on how clean everything was, it was either that Taylor was hardly in here or there was a cleaning service.
I looked at him over my shoulder. He was still at the entrance, watching me with an amused gleam in his eyes, and pulling off his shoes. Shit. My guilty conscience led me back to the front where I took off my Sorrels.
"You don't clean this place, do you?" I asked, bent over and untying my laces.
Taylor shook his head. "No, the team has a company who cleans them. But I try to keep it as clean as possible. I just don't mop or dust or stuff like that."
"You mean you don't do the hard stuff?" I quipped. "Fair enough."
He stuck his tongue out at me.
"I'd give you a tour of the place, but you've seen most of it, running around like a squirrel," Taylor joked, giving me an easy smile, one where his chin is tilted upwards and his eyes are hooded.
I felt my cheeks flame. At least it was looking that Taylor was out of whatever the hell mood he was in during lunch. My teeth chewed on the inside of my cheek and I shot him a look that said
well, excuse me, but a place like this is out-of-reach for a mere mortal like myself.
"Not true, I haven't seen what's behind this door." I rapt on the door near us, still in the entryway.
"That's the powder room. It hardly gets used though, because I usually use the one in my bedroom."
Why would a place like this need two bathrooms? Actually, it made sense, I guess. If you have guests you probably don't want them going in to your room just to take a pee. I wouldn't.
"Can I see, please?"
Taylor's head cocked to the side.
"The bathroom?"
"No, your bedroom."
I was expecting a coy response, a comment of some sort, but he just nodded his head, signalling for me to follow him.
As soon as I saw his room, I couldn't blame him for the lack of words, because the place made me pretty damn speechless, too. True to the rest of the condo, it was big, but unlike the rest, it had a large window on the wall the bed was against.
Even though it was only just past four o'clock, it was already twilight. Something that Toronto and Winnipeg had in common.
I walked as close to the glass as I could without touching it and took in the incredible view with the CN Town in the middle.
"This place is amazing. This city is amazing."
I turned around and saw Taylor smiling, sitting on the edge of his bed. Without being invited, I walked over and plopped myself next to him. It was tall, and my legs dangled way above the floor. He smirked at me.
Glad my pint size was amusing.
"Okay. Now spill," I said.
His eyes, now serious, flashed to my face.
"Spill what?"
"What's been up with your mood? You were a little...odd...at lunch."
His face recoiled in what had to be fake innocence. Parted lips, wide eyes, slight spasm of cheek muscle.
"I was?"
I answered him with the raise of my eyebrow.
Seriously? He had to ask? As if his sudden coldness during lunch wasn't noticeable enough, he barely said two wordsâto anyoneâall afternoon. After we ate, Sydney suggested that we walk along Bloor Street. It was a little chilly, but nothing unbearable, and no precipitation, so I agreed. Taylor said he was okay with it, that he had planned to do that with me anyways. For someone who wanted to do it then, he didn't seem to be having much fun considering his frown never left his face. He didn't seem mad and he wasn't acting mean, by any stretch. Just like he was deep in thought about something that was bothering him.
I wanted to know what it was, because I wanted Taylor to think of me as someone he could share thingsâanythingâwith. I couldn't blame him for keeping mum when the others were around even though it killed me to not know what was going on in his head.
"Yeah. You've seemed a little bothered by something."
Even though I would've hated for him to do it, I expected him to brush me off. Instead, he sighed and said: "You're right. There is something bothering me right now."
I should definitely not be this relieved to hear that something is bothering him. Obviously, I was upset that he was upset, but I felt good that he was going to trust me with that information.
"What is it?" My voice was soft, intending to soothe.
Taylor sighed deeply, turned his body to look at the wall in front of him, and answered.
"Camille, there's a war going on inside me right now."
Okay?
"About what?"
Was Taylor in some kind of trouble? It wasn't like him to have trouble doing the right thing. Maybe life in Toronto wasn't as good as it appeared, and he wanted out.
"There's something I've been wanting to do for a while, but I'm not sure if it's also what you want," he said, staring directly in my eyes.
What? I swallowed to give my mouth more moisture but my lips still felt cracked. I continued to stare into his deep brown eyes; a confident gesture considering I felt anything but.
"Okay, wellâ" I stopped and licked my lips again. "Whaâ" I stammered, but didn't get anything more out. We needed to hold the damn phone here.
I watched Taylor watch me struggle and when I felt that more vocal chords wouldn't fail me again, I spoke.
"What do you mean what I want?"
"Camille." He said my name so tenderly that I felt a chill run down my spine. My lips parted and I inhaled through my mouth. Great. This was potentially a huge moment and I had turned into a mouth breather. "There's something I want to do with you."
My stomach dropped to the bottom of my stomach as I choked out, "Yeah? What?"
Taylor looked down at my face with the smallest but most beautiful smile on his face. "Why don't we start with this?"
And then he proceeded to push my hair behind my ears, first one and then the other. As my body sat frozen and erect, he slowly leaned forward until his forehead was lined up with mine.
"Can I kiss you?"
"You want to kiss me," I said, because this wasn't making sense and I needed reassurance.
I had never seen such white teeth up close before until I saw him smile from less than a foot away from me.
"I want to kiss you," he confirmed, smiling slightly.
"Okay. You can do that," I breathed.
Because why the hell not? This is cool. Casual. No biggie.
"Hold still," he whispered, face moving even closer to mine.
Did he not realize I hadn't moved in, like, five minutes?
His hands cradled my neck, right under the jaw, and his thumbs gently brushed against my skin. My eyes fluttered closed in response.
So, even though I didn't see the precise moment Taylor Hudson's lips touched mine, I felt it.
Boy, I felt it. With every fibre in my body.
Places in my body that I didn't even know had nerves started firing away. Heat pooled in my lips, amplifying their sensitivity. I know Taylor told me to hold still, but I couldn't help it when my hands went to his hair, knocking his cap off.
My lips parted and so did Taylor's. Then his tongue tentatively touched mine and I touched the stars.
I wish I could say that uber romantic thoughts flowed through my mind like poetry, but all I could think was Holy crap I'm having my first kiss, and it's with Taylor Hudson.
Way too soon, Taylor pulled away. I was disappointed until I saw him smiling and looking at me.
Looking at me like he loved me.
"Thank you," I murmured.
He laughed and it sounded huskier than normal.
Yeah, I did that.
"Only you would say 'thank you' after kissing someone."
Well, it was either that or I love you. The former seemed safer. I looked away, glancing on some dark, modern art painting that was on Taylor's bedroom wall; a piece I had no doubt had come with the place. I had to look away because I couldn't look at him when I asked this.
"Was that all you wanted to do?"
I hoped to god it wasn't.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Taylor look at the ceiling. "I wish. If that was the case then I wouldn't be feeling so guilty."
Guilty?
"Why don't you tell me what you want, and then I'll tell you how I feel."
Who was this vixen and where did she come from?
"Okay, but you have to promise me that you'll say the truth of what you want and not what you think I want to hear," he said, leaning closer and closer until I could feel his breath on my neck.
I nodded.
And then he dropped it.
"I want to have sex with you."
I want to have sex with you.
I want to have sex with you.
HE wanted to have sex with ME.
"I'm sorry," he said suddenly. "I shouldn't have said that."
He kept babbling. Shit. I hadn't responded to him because my mind was too busy dancing.
"No," I said firmly.
"Okay, that's more than fine, obviously. Whatever you're comfortâ"
"I mean, no, stop talking."
Taylor's eyes widened and his lips parted. He was a sexier mouth breather than me, that was for sure.
"I want to."
My voice was barely above a whisper, but Taylor heard it loud and clear.
See, the thing about having sex for the first time is that you never really know how it's going to go or how it'll feel. All you really have to go off of is what the media portrays. And my time with Taylor was like nothing like that. Our clothes didn't seamlessly melt off and no dramatic soundtrack played in the background as a silk blanket covered our private parts like in the movies. Taylor didn't thrust into me a million times a minute like in the porn Angela had once showed me. And it wasn't hot and heavy with moans and panting like my romance novels described it.
Here's the thing about my first time with Taylor. It was a mess, but it was our mess.
I giggled in nervousness, which caused Taylor to blush and giggle as well. When he tried to take my clothes off, my jeans were so tight that he couldn't pull them off with me lying on the bed. I had to stand up, but he didn't have any more luck, so I stood there, jeans to my knees, laughing. Taylor watched me, fully clothed, laughing as well. Then my sweater got stuck around my neck because the material had no give. When Taylor offered for me to take his shirt off, my ice cold fingers grazed his stomach and he shrieked. I apologized profusely and he just shrugged it off and held my hands in his until they warmed up.
And that was when I knew I made the right choice in sleeping with him.
It's funny how the things I thought I'd worry about didn't cross my mind. I didn't worry about whether Taylor noticed the little bit of fat I have on my hips or if my flower was groomed "properly," because what the hell does that mean anyways?
I just focused on how it felt when Taylor touched me with his fingers for the first time, because I needed to be warmed up for it to hurt less, he said.
And when I was as ready as I'd ever be, I watched a naked Taylor reach into the drawer beside his bed and open a box of condoms.
"The trainer gave these to everyone," he explained.
I nodded. He didn't have to explain. I trusted him.
Taylor told me it'd be a good idea if he used a little bit of lube on me, just in case. I agreed and squirmed as he spread the cold substance across me.
"Sorry," he murmured.
He was being so gentle and tender he had nothing to apologize for.
And another thing unlike the movies. We spoke to each other throughout the whole thing. How it was feeling so far, if he should move or stay still, if I wanted him to stop. When he was all the way in I felt so overwhelmed with the sharp pain and the knowledge that I had lost my virginity that I actually cried.
Poor Taylor looked like he was on the verge of panicking but I just told him that I needed a tissue. Luckily, even with him inside me, he could reach the box on the nightstand. He wiped away the moisture and then kissed the now-dried skin.
As good as my body felt, it felt even better to just be close to Taylor. I think he sensed that, because he kept murmuring that I needed to relax, that I was amazing just as I was. It was hard, though, there was a lot going on inside me.
Even though I probably just laid there, Taylor was able to reach his climax.
When he pulled out, I winced and immediately felt guilty. I certainly wasn't expecting that, but what the hell had just happened? I slept with someone. I wasn't a virgin anymore. That was a lot of information for me to deal with. Taylor pulled the blanket over me and kissed my temple. I had the sudden urge to burst into tears and he just looked at me, patient as ever.
"What's the matter?" he murmured.
"I'm okay, I swear. It was justâ"
"Yeah," Taylor smiled. He was quiet for a few moments before he said, "I'm not sure if you want to get dressed right now. I'll do whatever's comfortable for you."
"We're okay like this, I think," I said, looking down at the thick and soft bedsheet that was covering us.
I wanted my body to cool down and then take a shower before I got dressed.
"It'll feel better the next time we do it," Taylor said, breaking into my thoughts.
I turned my head to look at him.
"You'd want to do it again? With me, I mean?"
He nodded, black hair sweaty and pushed off his forehead. "Yeah. If you want to."
I didn't answer and instead just snuggled into the pillow.
"Taylor," I said suddenly.
"Mmm hmm?"
"That was my first time."
"I know."
His thumb gently rubbed my upper arm.
"That was also my first kiss."
"I knew that, too."
His large hand softly squeezed my bicep.
"You did?"
"Well, I figured. Based on what you had said at my parents' house."
Right. I guess I was pretty obvious that night.
My eyes shut and I pressed them together. Some things I didn't want to admit looking right at him.
"I'm glad it was you, Taylor.
I felt his body tense for a moment before it relaxed, softening against mine.
"Me too, Camille. Thanks for letting it be me."