There is an urgency in his touch as he moves his hands frantically through my hair, down my sides, around to my backside as if he's unable to decide where to touch me first. My hands are no better, continuously sliding over every square of inch of his body that I can manage.
Taylor's lips, however, take their time. The soft skin caresses my lips gently a few times before moving to press a kiss to each of my cheeks. He uses his nose to nudge the angle of my jaw to the side, giving him access to my neck. His lips continue to work their way down, stopping at the sensitive skin of my collar bone. I can feel his tongue glide across my skin forcing a sigh to escape from me. The urgency that he had moments before has slowed to a near halt. This new rate allows him and I to savor each touch.

I pull him by his lapels into my room, closing the door behind us. Once we're inside, Taylor's hand works its way to the front of my body, pulling and unfastening my robe, exposing nothing underneath. My breath hitches as my body feels the rush of cold air. Taylor grumbles something, but neither of us stop. No words are important enough to earn a place in the air surrounding us. We need to talk, but I don't think I could even form a coherent sentence at this point.

My nipples become pebbles as Taylor takes them into his mouth one at a time. I fall against the door, unable to hold myself up as he continues to tease me. His mouth traces a path back to mine, leaving behind a trail of kisses and little nips at the skin in its way. His hands cup my ass, gently lifting me and allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. I can feel his erection pressing into me. My own anticipation grows to a desperate level.

"Couch," I breathe in between kisses. With three of his large steps we're across the room. Taylor moves to lay me gently on the futon, but cracks his head on the wood bed frame in the process. We laugh open mouthed against one another, but don't dare break our contact. Instead he swallows my giggles in between kisses.

I stretch my body out beneath his to give him the access he wants and that I crave. Taylor continues to explore me. My body is his map and his lips are his compass. But it doesn't feel like uncharted land for us. Taylor seems to know exactly where to go. He pauses at my most sensitive spots like their his favorite landmarks to visit. He takes his time to stroke and caress me until I'm panting for more.

I scramble to undress him. His jacket comes off easily. I move to unbutton his shirt and curse at how insufficient the speed at which my fingers are moving is. When I make it down far enough, Taylor leans back slightly to help me the rest of the way. It's the first time his hands have left my body since we began, but his eyes burn a hole through me as he works through the buttons quickly. I swallow hard, biting my lip to keep myself calm. And to prove that this is really happening.

I knew Taylor was a specimen of a man, his muscular torso forever visible under the fabric of his t-shirts, but the details are even better than the abstract idea. His body is a religion that I could worship, a type of false God that could bring me to my knees. My stomach swims in anticipation of the level of pleasure his body can make. My hands shake as I reach out to touch him. My palms slide slowly over his skin, taking the time to appreciate the bumps and grooves of his muscles. The fingers of my right hand work over the black lines of a tattoo shaped like a longhorn skull running across his side. The slope of one of the horns runs adjacent to the defined V of muscle leading into Taylor's pants. My fingers continue tracing, finding that new hard line and following it until they're dancing along the top of his boxers.

Taylor shudders as I unbutton and unzip his pants, pushing them and his boxers down around his thighs. I reach between us to feel him. Just like everything else about Taylor, his hardness is large in my hand. I gently slide my hand up and down to gauge how Taylor likes it.

"I've let you take control enough tonight," He whispers into my ear.

I don't respond, I can't as he runs his fingers up the inside of my thigh. Taylor slowly slides a finger inside of me. My hips quiver as I attempt to find any angle that allows me to be closer to Taylor as he slips in another finger and begins moving them in and out. Just as I'm about to cry out, Taylor pulls away from me long enough to retrieve a condom from his wallet.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks.

I shouldn't have to answer his question. My body is practically made of desire for this man. But I know that we won't get anywhere until I spell it out for him. Taylor needs to hear this truth confessed from my lips. And my words will change everything between us. A defining line is about to be crossed.

I could stop it all now. I could tell him to leave and take back everything I divulged earlier tonight. He was the one who had hesitations, afterall. He claimed to need more time, I just never imagined a few hours would be enough. Regardless of whatever has changed his mind, mine has been set. I want to fall deeper until I am kicking and flailing in a sea of Taylor.

"I want this Taylor. I want you," I breathe.

Without any further hesitation he finds my opening and pushes himself into me. My body winces at the unfamiliar contact. It's been awhile since I've been with anyone. And this may be the first time I can say with absolute certainty that I really want this.

"Is it too much? Let me know if it's too much, baby. I don't want to hurt you," Taylor whispers. The tone of his voice is enough to make me relax and brace myself for him.

Our bodies meld together, totally, completely until I have no idea where I end and he begins. We move as one continuously until we're both floating high above our bodies. As our breathing steadies, we return to the room. I move myself until I'm able to sit up a bit. When I lean forward I can see Taylor's legs are about six inches too long for the small futon. He must look like a giraffe of a human being forced into a cage made for a pomeranian. I burst into laughter. His only reaction, however, is to kiss me causing the teeth of my smile clashing with his lips.

I take him by the hand and guide him up into my bed. An extra long twin isn't much better, but at least he can fully lay down. Taylor wraps his arms around me, letting my head fall onto his chest. I find peace in the way my head rises and falls with his breathing. It's like I'm in sync with his body, making me even closer to him.

"I'm sorry about tonight... I– I shouldn't have just let you leave like that. I should have come to you sooner," Taylor says as his fingers run lazily up and down my arm.

"This is exactly what I wanted, Taylor. You just had to do it on your time." I strengthen my grip on him.

"You asked me if I thought about you...I don't think I've stopped thinking about you since you hit me with your damn scooter," Taylor chuckles.

"Why does it sound like you're quoting Taylor Swift right now?" I ask. This earns me a full belly laugh from Taylor.

"I promise I'm not, but I know she has a song that would fit this moment perfectly. If you could just hand me my phone I could..."

I push myself up and shut him up with a single kiss. He deepens it and pulls me on top of him. It's only when we're both panting again that I slide to his side, curling into him as if I've done it a million times before. It's Taylor's slow and even breathing that allows me to relax and find my own. I drift into sleep completely dazed at the events of the night, the weekend, of the entire semester, really. I think of everything that led to this moment. I squeeze Taylor more tightly, captivated by the thought of getting to stay this way forever.

🏈🏈🏈

I wake up to Taylor's arm dangling across my body like a weight pinning me down. With no way out, I decide to just turn my head and watch him sleep. He looks so peaceful with his lips slightly parted and a small breeze blowing through them with each breath.

I reach out and begin tracing the black marks that fill his right arm. I've never noticed just how much of his skin is covered with art— bible verse, an eye, roman numerals, other words—but my favorite is a large tree covered with Spanish moss that blooms up his shoulder and wraps onto his chest. It reminds me of the ones that lined the entrance to our neighborhood back in Georgia, and one of my favorite things about our time living in the south. The trees have so much character, they've seen so much but still stand so strong.

Childhood memories of climbing trees with my brothers fill my head as I run my finger over the lines. You have to find the ones with the strongest branches, Carter would lecture Cal and I as he hoisted us up to help us get our start. It reminds me it wasn't always so bad between us, that once upon a time we did in fact get along and even loved one another. But it's also a reminder that things were just so much easier when my mom was still alive. Even if we can never get our foundation back, I'm starting to see that we might be able to build something back anyway. Things will never be as strong as before, but some sort of relationship has to be better than none.

"That feels good." Taylor's sleepy voice pulls me from my thoughts.

"Shh, I didn't mean to wake you. You have to be exhausted, go back to sleep," I lull into his ear.

He doesn't protest and soon his breathing evens out again. The motion of tracing seems to rock me to sleep too, sending me into dreams filled with little kid laughs and adventures. When we wake again a few hours later, it's Taylor that is intently watching me. I pull the covers over my head.

"You don't have to hide Camryn, not from me. I even find that dried up drool on your chin adorable," Taylor says as he kisses me and laughs against my cheek. I once again retreat under the covers, but admit defeat quickly as he joins me in the fort and the kisses continue. I've never felt such pleasure from simple touches.

The electricity that flows through my body is a feeling I want to bottle up and keep forever. I could wear it around my neck like a necklace in the same way people do with lockets to keep something so treasured close to their chest. But even then, the result of Taylor's touch isn't what I would go to the ends of the earth to find. It doesn't compare to the feeling of laying here with him in a place that feels like a world of our design, one where only we exist.

"Someone is blowing you up." He points to my vibrating phone tucked underneath my pillow. I've ignored it for at least ten minutes in hopes that it wasn't real. I'd go to great lengths to not acknowledge anything that exists outside the sacred fort Taylor and I have created.

"Let them," I say, closing my eyes again. My phone, however, continues to vibrate. Taylor is the one who checks it first and lets me know of the ten missed notifications from my dad and brother. Concern creeps into his perfect face, reminding me that regardless of my issues with my family, something could be wrong.

Taylor leans down, slowly laying a kiss directly onto my lips. It's tender, much like the way he held me all night. I lean into it, but he quickly pulls away.

"I have to go. But don't forget this," he says.

"Forget what?" I ask.

"Don't forget this..." He touches my face with his hand. "Us, how we feel. Everything between us last night, and even before, is real." I nod once and Taylor leans down to kiss me again before making his way down from my bed. He gathers his things and redresses in his suit even after I offered his sweatpants and sweatshirt that I've been harboring for weeks.

I remain in my place in bed and continue to watch him. The butterflies filling my stomach are overwhelming. This is real, he said so himself. I bite back my smile as Taylor looks back up at me with his own wide smile. There are no longer any secrets or hidden feelings looming over us. We didn't talk about everything the way I had envisioned, but his face tells me we don't have to talk now, that there will be plenty of time in our future to make sense of it, together.

Taylor pushes up on his tiptoes for one final kiss before promising to text me after practice to make plans. As the door closes behind him, I dress myself and sit at my desk. I call Cal first, but it goes straight to his voicemail. My dad however, answers the phone immediately. There is a calmness to his voice. It doesn't match the level of urgency in the unnecessary amount of phone calls he made. He claims he was looking for my brother, but has since heard from him. I roll my eyes as I end our call. It's barely eight in the morning, I'm sure he was just sleeping. But the issue is quickly forgotten as I begin to upload all the photos I took this weekend to my computer.

I pull out my notebook, the one that contains the timeline that I started updating a few weeks ago. When we started the list, I couldn't help but want to give each item a permanent place in my mind. With every obligation crossed out, the words found their way to the timeline with a picture of what I had accomplished.

I turn to the next page. There is nothing on it sans for the single thin line in the middle. I open the envelope next to me and pull out the film pictures I had developed while Alyssa and I were out yesterday. I took so many, but now I only pick a few to add to the page. My favorite, though, is a picture of Taylor and I on the field after the game. He had scooped me into his arms before spinning me around. Nora captured the picture, claiming that candids are always the best, and I've never agreed more. You can't see my face in the picture, but the smile on Taylor's says it all. I carefully place a piece of double sided tape on the back and place it in its spot before writing the game's date and Taylor's stats. Underneath that, in swooping cursive letters I write the memory, perhaps the most important thus far, The First Picture of US