My Resolution

Chapter 8

I took a quick shower in Donovan’s bathroom after he found something comfortable for me to wear. I turned the water up as hot as I could stand it, trying to heat myself. I pulled about a hundred bobby pins from my hair, being careful not to drop any down the drain, before shampooing with his stupid two-in-one stuff. "Why does he use this crap?" I mumbled to myself, slightly irritated he refused to buy decent shampoo and conditioner. I scrubbed my face with a warm washcloth to remove all the makeup before turning off the water and dying off. I pulled on a pair of cushy socks, a hunter green sweatshirt, and a pair of flannel pajama pants that tied at the waist. They were incredibly baggy, but I was super comfortable. I dug through his bathroom vanity until I found a comb so I could pull the knots out of my hair and used some of his toothpaste on my finger to clean my teeth a little bit. I could finally feel myself start to relax. It had been an eventful night. 

Donovan was sitting digging through his movie cabinet when I found him. 

“Showers open,” I announced. 

“Thanks, Valley Girl,” he responded making a beeline for the bathroom. 

I flopped down on the floor and started digging through the movies. Donovan found me surrounded by movie cases when he came out of the bathroom. 

“Can I help you find something?” he asked, sarcastically. 

“I’m trying to pick a Christmas movie.” 

“Oh, that’s easy. We can watch the ultimate Christmas movie! Die Hard!” he proclaimed. 

“That is not a Christmas movie,” I insisted brushing him off. 

“What? John McClain risking his life to save his fellow man from a group of terrorists on Christmas eve. If that’s not Christmas spirit, I don’t know what is,” he passionately claimed.  

“Okay, okay, I give,” I giggled, “but, if I’m watching “Die Hard”, you’re watching “Love, Actually.” 

“Empty threat, I don’t own that,” he said smugly. 

“No, sadly, you do not,” I paused with a dramatic frown, “But your mom does!” I leaped from the floor and squeezed his cheeks, and mockingly said, “Ha, Ha.” He looked so disappointed. “You’re stuck ole buddy ole pal. Let’s go, grab your movie.” 

He begrudgingly followed me out the door and down the stairs.  

Luna Fredrick had left hot cocoa in a crockpot to keep warm and a note telling me which guest room she had prepared for me. We filled a couple of big mugs; I hung a candy cane to the inside of my cup for minty chocolate goodness and we grabbed some snacks before getting comfortable in the theater room.  

We settled on watching Donovan’s movie first. It was a good movie, but I maintain that it's not a Christmas movie. As the final credits rolled, Donovan hit the stop button and changed out the discs. 

“Hey, Valley Girl, are you sure you're, okay?” he asked, turning to look at me. 

“Yeah, I was mostly giving you crap, I don’t mind “Die Hard,” I shrugged.  

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he explained, “I meant earlier with Mara. Are you sure you’re alright” 

“Oh, that. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I just sat there and let that whole situation escalate,” he muttered, “I didn’t do anything to help.” 

“I really don’t think that had anything to do with you, though. I think it’s more to do with her and whatever she has going on.” 

“Maybe, but I should have said something.”  

“I think that would have just made the whole thing worse, honestly,” I assured, “I’m not worried about it, and you should try to let it go, too.” 

“I guess, but...I don’t know. I just feel like I let you down!” 

“Well, you didn’t. I can’t change how you feel, but I’m not upset with you.” 

He silently nodded as he settled in to watch the second movie. As the opening sequence rolled, I noticed him staring at me from the corner of my eye, but he was intently watching the movie when I turned to look at him. “I must be getting tired,” I thought to myself, brushing it away, only to notice him looking at me once more. This pattern continued for the duration of the film; I tried to focus on the movie, but his staring was so distracting that I missed most of it focusing my attention on my peripheral. “I really wish he could find a way to let this guilt thing go, it really isn’t a big deal,” I thought, again trying to pull my attention back to the movie. 

As the final scene played out, the characters in the airport saying farewells, I felt his eyes once again. 

“Okay, what?” I asked, more forcefully than I had intended. He jerked back slightly. I took a breath, “I’m sorry. That was kinda mean. You have been looking at me this whole movie. What’s going on?” 

“I just keep thinkin...” 

“Donovan,” I sternly interrupted, “I am okay. You know, better than anyone, I can take care of myself, and I would tell you if I thought you had done something wrong,” my voice softened as I finished my statement. 

“I know. I really do. That’s not what I was going to say.” 

“Oh, then I’m extra sorry.” 

“It’s fine. I was just going to say, well, you remember that summer after your parents died. You were thirteen.” 

“Sure,” I replied, thinking back to that first year after my parents were killed. There was so much happening around the pack. Rebuilding homes and businesses, pack members pulling together to help one another, a lot of us were left without any belongings after that final attack. We made it through but so much was desecrated. I was only vaguely aware of how dire things were for a lot of families because I was dealing with losing my parents, my home, my belongings; I was a twelve-year-old little girl, and my entire life had been destroyed. I had been moved into several different homes before Alpha Fredrick was able to make the arrangements for the Boone’s to take in so many orphaned pups. I had spent the vast majority of my time at the packhouse with Donovan and his family. My parents had been close to the Alpha and Luna, so Donovan and I were always close, but after that, we were inseparable. 

“Well, do you remember that time we were in the clearing at the park? You were having a really bad day because you wanted advice from your mom, but she wasn’t there, so you were pissed off at her for leaving you?”  

“Oh, goddess, you mean when I had a crush on Kendal, but he said I was ‘too tall to be pretty?’” I chuckled, “yes, I do remember that.” 

“Do you remember what you asked me when I told you he was stupid, and you were too good for him?” 

“Oh, my goodness, yes, I do. How could I forget? I told you I was scared I would be too tall for a boy to like me, so I’d never get kissed, and I asked if you would be my first kiss,” I remembered fondly. 

_______________________________________ 

It was the end of June, Donovan and I were sitting, leaning against the giant maple tree. I was sobbing from humiliation and anger, and I was ashamed that I was angry. My mom wasn’t here to help me because she died. Indignation coursed through me.  

“How could she do that to me?” 

“Why would she leave me?” 

“You know, I’m not that tall!” 

“He’s not even that cute!” 

I was ranting, and Donovan had his arm around my shoulder listening and letting me go off. Occasionally, he would say things like, “She didn't go by choice,” and “you’re too good for him, anyway,” but, mostly, he just listened and held me. When I finally calmed down enough to stop yelling, I wiped the tears from my eyes and sat up.  

“Donovan?” I muttered. 

“Yeah?” 

“Will---will, well, will you kiss me?” I stammered. He tilted his head and looked at me. “It’s just that I, well, I don’t know. What if he’s right? What if no one ever likes me? What if I never get kissed? You know what, never mind that was stupid.” 

He smiled and said, “Okay.” 

“Okay? Okay, you’ll kiss me, or okay never mind?” 

“Okay, I’ll kiss you,” he grinned. 

“Well, okay,” I responded, trying not to sound surprised. 

“So, how do you want to do this?” he questioned. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t think I would get this far,” I admitted. 

“Uhm, well, I’ve never kissed anyone either, so, okay, let's do this,” he sat upon his knees. I followed suit. He then leaned forward, placing his hands on the ground in front of him, I followed his lead. We leaned forward slowly, he closed his eyes, so I did too. I was suddenly very aware of my skin, but I don’t know why. As I leaned forward, my hand stilled on the grass, and I fell forward, head butting Donovan in the mouth. His lip started to bleed, and his tooth had broken some skin on my forehead. I wasn’t bleeding, but, goddess, it hurt. We both looked at each other and started laughing. The moment was gone, so we left to get some ice for his lip. 

_______________________________________ 

It might sound strange, but I felt so much better after laughing about my own clumsiness with my best friend.  

“Remember how we told your mom we got hurt tripping over a big log?” I recalled, “I can’t believe she bought that.” 

“I don’t think she did, honestly, but she never said anything either,” Donovan chuckled. 

“Anyway, what about it?” I asked, curious what made him think of that now. 

“Well, unless I missed something, I think I still owe you a first kiss,” he said softly, looking me dead in the eyes. 

I opened my mouth to say something, then stopped, then tried again to no avail. I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t had a first kiss, of course, he was right about that, but I hadn’t thought about it either. He didn’t move or speak, just waited. I finally stammered, “Are...are you... are you asking if you can kiss me?”, unsure of my own ability to grasp his meaning. 

“Yes, but only if you want me to,” he said, leaning toward me slowly. He placed his hand under my chin, gently tilting my head back. “Say stop and I stop,” he whispered, pausing for a moment. 

I pulled my head back, looking away from him, still unable to speak.  

He dropped his hand slowly, “Okay, I stop,” he gulped. He sat for a moment longer before turning off the movie. He started cleaning up the small mess we had made. 

Finally, I found my voice, “I need to use the restroom. Excuse me.” I stood and tried to leave nonchalantly. 

I locked the door behind me and turned to look in the mirror. The girl staring back at me had mostly dry frizzed hair sticking out at odd angles, and she was breathing heavily. I hadn’t realized I was fighting to catch my breath. I rinsed my face, ran my fingers through my hair, and dropped cross-legged into the floor.  

Questions began running through my head so fast, I could barely keep up with my own thoughts. What is going on? Why did he suddenly offer to kiss me? Why had I frozen? Why couldn’t I speak or even look at him? Oh, no, I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings! Seriously, though, what is happening? 

I sat on the floor of the downstairs restroom of the packhouse with these thoughts bouncing around in my head for what seemed like hours. 

“BUZZZZZZZZZZ,” my vibrating phone pulled me from my thoughts. It was a text from Donovan,  

-Everything is cleaned up. Try to get some sleep. Good night, Valley Girl. 

-I’m sorry... 

When the second text appeared, I knew what I needed to do. I ran as quickly and quietly upstairs as I could, so as not to wake anyone up. I paused outside the door, catching my breath and unsuccessfully straightening the loose clothes I was wearing. I took one deep breath through my nose and gently nocked. He didn’t answer. I listened intently, but I didn’t hear anything. So, I knocked again, slightly louder, but really trying hard to not wake up the house. I waited, but still no answer. I slowly and silently twisted the knob and pushed the door open just a crack. I didn’t see him. I slowly pushed the door further open. He wasn't in his room. “Where could he be?” I pondered, as I walked back down the stairs.  

I checked the theater, great room, the kitchen; I had nearly given up until I saw a small movement in the dark sunroom just beyond the library. I ambled toward the door being careful not to startle whoever was in there. I finally got close enough to see Donovan standing there watching the snow bluster and blow. He was facing the opposite direction, so I couldn’t see his face. I gently pulled the door open, knocking on the frame as I stepped around the door. He turned his face toward me for a moment, smiled, then turned back to the falling snow. I step forward and stopped beside him. There was a chill in the room, but it wasn’t unbearable. Neither of us said anything for several minutes, we just stood there together, taking in our panoramic view of the storm around us. 

“Donovan,” I finally whispered, “I didn’t want you to stop.” 

“What?” he asked, turning toward me. 

I faced him and repeated, “I didn’t want you to stop.” 

He reached forward and ran the back of his fingers along my jawline, “tell me to stop, and I stop,” he said huskily. 

I placed my hands lightly on either side of his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his soft shirt. He took each side of my face in his hands, leaning closer. There was a sudden heat that built in my stomach and rose to my chest. I could feel every twitch of his fingers down my cheeks and through my hair. With every breath, I was engulfed in a distantly familiar scent that made my core hot.  

He gently pressed his lips to mine for just a moment, then pulled back, looking me deeply in the eyes before leaning in once more. I felt his soft, supple lips close around my bottom lip and felt his tongue play across. Parting my lips, I allowed him entry to continue tenderly taking over my mouth, while sliding one hand behind my head and wrapping the other around my waist. I slid my arms up and around his neck, running my fingers through his soft hair. I felt my knees melting in his embrace. I deepened the kiss further, addicted to what he was doing to me.