Mom advised me to enjoy my time with Alex and experience all the emotions along the way. I'm not sure this is what she had in mind.

I text in Spanish, because it feels less mortifying for whatever reason.

¿Está bien si me quedo con Alex en su casa?

She replies a few minutes later, as we're pulling into his driveway.

No tienes que pedir permiso, m'hija. Eres adulta.

She tells me I don't have to ask her permission, but I wish I could interpret the opinion layered under this fact. Does that mean it's no big deal, because I'm an adult and it's normal to sleep over with my boyfriend? Or does she not approve, but she can't tell me because I'm no longer a child?

Enjoy your time with Alex. Be safe, m'hija.

I now wish she would have left it at one text. I'm dying of embarrassment.

Alex guides me inside with a hand on me at all times, and I settle onto the sofa while he prepares snacks in the kitchen. I'm stuffed from everything we ate at the fair, but I guess he is still hungry—or it's the compulsion to serve food to guests in his Latino blood.

He appears in the living room with a serious expression and perches on the edge of the sofa, taking my hands.

"Should I open a bottle of wine?"

"Um..." My heart is pounding.

"I'm joking!" He cracks up and hops off the sofa, bringing a tray of fruit and sandwiches from the kitchen.

"You're a jerk."

"Just trying to help you relax. With jokes, I meant! Not with wine." He plops back onto the couch, causing me to practically topple over into him. "You probably never tasted alcohol before, have you?"

There's an awkward pause, and I clear my throat. "Uh, I have." Have we really never discussed this? We haven't, because most of my nights drinking correlate to make-out sessions with boys at college, and that certainly hasn't been a topic of discussion this summer.

"Nati!" He's smirking at me, intrigued. "Wow, I didn't realize."

"That's how I gained so much confidence, was through drinking." It sounds like a joke, but it's not exactly. As soon as it's out of my mouth, I realize the potential connotations of what I've just said, given the present circumstances. "I mean, confidence talking with people and opening up."

Alex is dying of laughter next to me. He then turns more serious. "Did you kiss a lot of guys? How far have you gone?"

"No! Just kissing. I mean, yes I kissed a lot of guys, but it was just for fun." I bury my face in my hands. Alex peels my sweaty palms off my cheeks and holds them in his.

"Do you drink?" I ask him.

"Nah, not really anymore. Yeah, in the past, sure. Too much during my eighteen to twenty year range. I have to be careful, with my family history. Seeing that shit with my brother in person really freaked me the fuck out, Nati."

I wrap my hands around his torso, and he stays in my embrace for several seconds. As we move apart, he turns on the TV to play some music.

"Do you mind if I take a quick shower? I feel like I smell. I was sweating like a pig at the fair."

"Like your pig friend from the barn?" I tease, giggling.

He grins in the way that I love so much, showing no trace of self-consciousness over the fun being poked at his expense, merely amusement.

I snuggle deeper into him. "You smell good. You always smell good."

Alex squeezes me to him. "So do you." That's a lie, but it's sweet.

"Do you want to change into pajamas now to be comfortable? I'll bring you a shirt." He hops up from the sofa and stuffs half a sandwich in his mouth.

"Okay. Actually, can I take a shower after you? I have sunscreen all over me."

Alex begins choking, though he might be doing it on purpose. He regains composure, and his tone turns sly but matter-of-fact as he approaches and stands in front of me where I'm seated, legs touching mine.

"You can shower with me."

Oh my God.

"Um..."

"You don't have to. Only if it sounds fun."

"Fun?"

"That maybe wasn't the right word." He takes my hands and pulls me to my feet, grinning as he steps close. His presence invades my senses, the air around us growing charged. "I would enjoy it. Quite a bit."

"We won't... in there, right?"

"Nope."

I'm nervous about the logistics of condom use and all of that. Mom suggested I go on birth control when she found out I was dating, so I feel a tiny bit more at ease, but I'm worried about my ability to speak up for myself in the moment. I trust Alex, but I don't know what to expect.

"I'm too nervous."

"Okay." He pulls me in, and as our lips connect, my trepidation over the evening begins to evaporate. I want more of him.

A half-hour later, I emerge freshly showered from the bathroom in one of Alex's oversized t-shirts. I find him in his brightly-lit bedroom, where he told me he would be, and stand shyly in the doorway.

He looks me up and down with a quiet, closed-mouthed chuckle and jumps off the bed to approach me. We come together with a soft kiss that deepens quickly as we both ripple our lips over one another's with need. His urgency swells as he parts my legs with his in an attempt to create more closeness.

"M'God," he mutters, as if it was meant to be an entire phrase but only one word escaped his mouth intact. Our bodies move together, increasing contact in every possible place through our clothes. Alex scrapes his fingers along my thighs, reaching the bottom of my borrowed t-shirt, which isn't covering much. When he tugs at the shirt hem in a gesture of asking permission, I allow him to reach his hands underneath it.

Alex crawls his fingers up slowly, controlled, but his breath is erratic like he's holding back everything; he runs his index finger along the outline of my panties, causing my legs to tremble, then spreads his palms over my stomach. I'm not wearing a bra, and he gasps as he reaches the flesh of my breasts, cupping me gently in both hands and releasing a low groan.

"You're..."—he stutters momentarily as a forceful breath whooshes into his lungs—"...so gorgeous."

My head swirls with the exhilaration of knowing that I can turn him on and drive him this crazy. On impulse, I press my lips to his neck, sliding my tongue along his freshly bathed skin.

"Mmm... Oh my God." The whines and hums overflowing from his mouth spur me on; I want to keep kissing and touching him until he dissolves into uncontainable desire.

But Alex quickly turns the tables on me, gliding his hand up my thigh until it connects with my panties, running one finger over my most sensitive spot. The sensation is overwhelming, and I can barely keep my knees from buckling.

"Yeah?" he asks in a teasing tone, aware of the effect his touch is having on me.

I'm unable to form words. The intensity now beyond what either of us can withstand while remaining vertical, Alex and I stumble towards the bed in haphazard fashion. He's on top of me, each breath vaporizing as hot mist into my face, a thrilling indication of how badly he wants me.

I can't keep track of all the ways and places he's touching me; inside my brain it's a choppy black sea of fear battling raw physical desire.

"Nati?" My whirling mind fails to recognize the meaning in Alex's unformed question. "Nati," he keeps asking, inarticulate. "Nati, yeah?"

He's ready. I'm not, but there's nothing else he can do to bridge my anxiety.

"Yeah," I whisper.

It's not perfect or magical, because the whole time he's inside me, I'm battling a sensation of having to urinate. Alex does everything right—uses a condom and goes slow and checks on me continually—but I'm still petrified. I'm more than relieved when I feel him release into me with a breathy gasp.

Alex brings me into his arms, all of his naked body draped around me.

"Did you like it?"

"Yes." It's not exactly dishonest, because I liked everything leading up to it, and I love the relaxed and satisfied way his limbs lay heavy over mine, the way he's clutching onto me.

"I can tell you're lying."

"It felt weird. I was nervous." Suddenly, a tiny acidic flicker burns in my throat; it's the fear of failure and rejection. "I'm sorry if I made it awkward."

Alex props himself up on his elbows, partially detangling himself from me. He stares intently into my face, eyebrows scrunched together, his aqua eyes glittery as though sugary bits of cotton candy from the fair are swirling through them.

"No," he says low, shaking his head. "It's never going to be awkward. Impossible. When you get more comfortable, the next times, it'll be better."

"Okay, sorry." I drop my eyes, feeling so embarrassed over his words. It'll be better next time. In other words, it wasn't that good.

He touches my face, guiding me to look at him. "No, I mean it will be better for you," he clarifies emphatically. "Heh, I liked it, of course."

"Really?" I stare into his eyes, which are radiating smiley emotion back into me, and I know he is being genuine.

"I'll go slower next time. Sorry, I tried my best to control myself, but..." He grimaces at me, sheepish and sexy and amused and content all at the same time.

It hasn't occurred to me that he would have something to apologize for; he's experienced, and I know nothing. Alex is so tender in this moment, gazing at me.

"Thank you for being so sweet and patient." I clasp onto him and burrow into his bare chest, relaxing into a feeling of relief and closeness.

I don't realize that "next time" is on the not-very-distant horizon. We doze off for a little while, and I wake up to Alex restless beside me, moving closer, running his fingers along my back to my bare bottom. I can feel him becoming aroused as his breaths grow more intense.

The velvety touch of his fingers all over me feels so good that I keep my eyes shut and allow myself to fall into a deep sensation of desire.

He pulls me on top of him as we begin kissing, and I move myself over him, uninhibited. As the intensity increases, I grasp his hair in my fingers without thinking and accidentally pull rather hard.

I gasp in shock at the same time as he gasps with a very different emotion.

"Oh my God, sorry!"

"Don't be," he rasps, his mouth still partway open, surprised and totally into it. "Do it again, if you want."

But that's way too much pressure and expectation, so I don't repeat the action, even though I'm dying to see him react that way again.

Instead, I go at his neck again with vigor, and the wheezy pants he produces in response are incredibly satisfying. Alex reciprocates, and a hot flowing like dormant lava stirs below as his lips move and press all over me.

This time, I'm craving for him as our longing body parts push together, not yet joined. The uncomfortable sensation when he enters is slightly less intense than the first time, and I will myself to relax into it rather than fighting it.

"Better?" he asks, collapsing onto his back and laboring to catch his breath after we finish.

I giggle shyly.

He sits up again to scrutinize my face, ever the energizer bunny. I'm exhausted and can't move; my eyelids are closing as a powdery cloud of sleepy contentment overtakes me.

Alex's sly little chuckle forces me to open one eye. He kisses my forehead.

"You're more passionate than I was expecting."

Kill me now. I rip the covers up over my face, mortified.

"Hermosa, you can't hide from me." He tugs the sheet back down. "And you don't need to. That's not a bad thing. Trust me, it was all good. Very, very, extremely good."

I love the sound of that. I want to tell him how much I love everything about him.

"I'm sleepy," my voice creaks out instead.

We tangle up together and sleep the entire night holding hands.