Chapter 3: Forbidden Touch

A few days ago, at my birthday party, the girl who’d never missed a single one mysteriously didn’t show up.

I’d waited all night, pretending I didn’t care, playing host as friends and cousins drifted in and out. Even the banner—HAPPY 24TH, CALEB!—felt like a joke, because she was always the one who hung it. The room smelled like grocery store cake and burnt-out candles.

I already had a bad feeling, but when I actually saw the "birthday present" she’d wrapped up—herself—lying on my bed, a rush of heat still surged through my body.

There she was: curled on top of my navy comforter, ribbon and all, looking more vulnerable and determined than I’d ever seen. My hands shook as I closed the door behind me.

Natalie was wearing a revealing, silk, cut-out dress, with only a red ribbon tied at her chest.

She’d never worn anything like that before—modest, always, even in the Savannah heat. The sight was so unexpected it knocked the air out of me. The way the silk clung to her, the ribbon looking both playful and heartbreakingly earnest, made my thoughts scramble.

The vivid red silk against her pale skin made the red pop even more, the white even brighter—a sight that could drive anyone crazy.

She looked like a painting—something out of a Georgia O'Keeffe gallery, all bold color and trembling possibility. I had to remind myself to breathe.

"Nat, have you... really thought this through?"

My voice was hoarse, my Adam’s apple bobbing.

She nodded, eyes shining with equal parts fear and longing. I saw her fingers twisting in the ribbon, a silent dare.

Natalie and I had been childhood sweethearts, growing up together from preschool all the way to college, present at every milestone in each other’s lives.

She knew my favorite ice cream (butter pecan), my best Halloween costume (the year we went as ketchup and mustard), and the way I always needed a new notebook at the start of every semester. Her laugh was the soundtrack to my adolescence.

When we were eight, playing house, she pulled a sheet over her head and sweetly declared she’d be my bride someday. Our moms snapped a Polaroid of us in the backyard, Natalie beaming beneath her pillowcase veil.

At eighteen, under a sky full of fireworks on the Fourth of July, she kissed my cheek and said, let’s be together. The air had smelled like grilled hot dogs and spent sparklers, and my hands were sticky from the watermelon slices we'd eaten by the lake. That memory glowed inside me, as bright as the fireworks over the water.

Now, her gaze was still pure, but the curves of her body—exquisitely shaped, ready to burst—constantly reminded me she’d grown up.

It was jarring, the way she’d gone from overalls and scraped knees to the woman standing in front of me. Sometimes I caught myself staring, not quite believing it was the same Natalie.

Like a Georgia peach, sweet and just about ready to fall into someone’s hands.

"What are you daydreaming about? Caleb, aren’t you going to unwrap your birthday present?"

Her tone was teasing, but there was a tremor in it—half-innocent, half-daring. She wiggled her toes, bare against the comforter, and for a second I was back in high school, laughing as she painted her toenails bubblegum pink for the senior dance.

Natalie pouted playfully, her round toes pressing right onto my suit pants. She looked up at me with an eyebrow raised, daring me to react. She’d always known how to get under my skin, sometimes in ways that made me blush.

She pressed down, on purpose. The pressure was both bold and awkward, her eyes flickering with mischief and nervousness.

"Jeez—"

I couldn’t help but suck in a breath, pain shooting through me. I almost laughed, but it came out as a strained grunt. "You trying to kill me on my birthday?"

"If you don’t want me, then..."

Her lips twisted in mock hurt, but her eyes stayed locked on mine, waiting for my next move.

Before I could finish, Natalie glared and pretended to get up and leave. "Caleb Stevenson, are you even a man?" She tossed her hair like she’d practiced that line a hundred times in front of the mirror. There was a half-smile on her lips, but I could tell she was holding her breath, hoping I’d stop her.

I caught her wrist and pulled her down onto the soft, wide bed. My hand hovered a moment over her skin, hesitant, the old shyness mingling with the heat in the air. Her skin was warm beneath my palm, her pulse racing almost as fast as mine. I tugged gently, and she landed next to me with a little squeal.

"Didn’t you already feel it just now?" Looking at the girl trapped in my arms, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close. She rested her head on my chest, her heartbeat a frantic flutter. I could feel her shiver as I traced circles on her back, her breath hot against my collarbone.

Natalie instantly blushed, grabbed my hand and guided it to the red ribbon at her chest, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve thought about it for so many years, Caleb. You’re the one I want."

The confession sent a rush through me—hope, fear, longing all tangled up. My hands shook as I slid my fingers beneath the bow. Unable to resist, I kissed her lips and reached out to untie the bow. Her lips tasted like cinnamon gum and promises. I could feel her trembling, but she didn’t pull away.

"Ah—!"

Suddenly, Natalie convulsed like she’d been hit by a jolt of electricity. Her body jerked so hard the bedframe creaked, and a cold sweat broke out on my own skin. She gasped, her whole body arching off the bed, hands clenching in the sheets. The look in her eyes was wild—panic, pain, confusion all flashing at once. I froze, breath caught in my throat.

Her face went deathly pale in an instant. It was like all the color had drained from her, her freckles standing out stark against her skin. Sweat beaded at her temples, and her lips parted in a silent scream.

"Nat!"

I hurried to support her. I reached for her shoulder, but she jerked away, wincing so hard I flinched back too. My heart hammered, adrenaline making my hands shake.

"Ah—!"

She cried out in pain again, cold sweat beading on her slender neck. I could see the goosebumps racing up her arms. The sound made me sick with worry, and I fumbled for words, for any way to comfort her.

My hand froze, and I stared in shock at the words floating in the air. It was the same as before—neon, intrusive, taunting. The digital text seemed to glow brighter in the dim room, like some kind of cosmic joke.

"Supporting dude, just give up. In the end, you’ll never make it to home plate with her."

The words felt like a slap. I gritted my teeth, swallowing my pride. Who were these people—or whatever they were—watching us?

"Heh, our girl’s got a chastity shock collar. If any guy but the main dude touches her, she’ll be in agony."

The phrase was so bizarre, so out of place in the soft, ordinary bedroom, I almost laughed. But the pain in Natalie’s eyes made everything deadly serious.

Main guy, leading lady, chastity shock collar?

What the hell is all this?

It sounded like something from a twisted Reddit thread, not my real life. I shook my head, but the words didn’t vanish.

As soon as I stopped touching Natalie, she finally came back from the brink of pain. She slumped onto the pillows, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut. I waited, helpless, until she finally blinked up at me, tears clinging to her lashes.

"Caleb, I... I’m fine."

Natalie held back her tears, biting her lip in guilt. "Maybe I’ve just been working too many late nights at the lab." Her voice was so small it barely reached me. She tugged the ribbon higher on her chest, avoiding my eyes, her shoulders curled in on themselves. I saw the way her hands shook—tired, but also scared.

She bent down, the pale curve of her chest catching my gaze. I looked away, feeling guilty for noticing, for wanting her when she was so clearly hurting.

"I’ll help you out... otherwise you’ll be uncomfortable."

She said it softly, almost apologetic, as if she owed me something for my disappointment. She forced a small, wobbly smile, trying to lighten the mood even as her eyes glistened with embarrassment. I hated how her eyes dropped, how she tried to hide her pain behind that brave little joke.

I frowned, still trying to make sense of the barrage of comments scrolling behind her, when suddenly I heard the sound of buttons being undone. I snapped my head up, startled. The sight of her fingers on my shirt, the click of plastic buttons, made my heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Natalie’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, leaving them glistening. Her eyes were glazed, her movements mechanical. She looked like she was trying to be brave, but fear kept flickering in the corners of her mouth.

But the next moment, her body arched, hands clutching her lower abdomen as she curled up in pain. She doubled over, gasping. Her knuckles went white as she gripped her stomach, legs drawn to her chest. The sound she made was so raw, I wanted to scream for her.

Her once bright eyes were now filled with agony. She tried to focus, but I could see she was barely holding on. Tears slid down her cheeks, silent and unstoppable.

"Mm, I... I don’t know what’s wrong with me."

The barrage provided the answer.

[What’s wrong? Isn’t it obvious? Only the main guy gets the girl—everyone else is just background noise.]

[Hehe, when the leading lady is with the main guy, she gets her fill—both mouths, top and bottom, are full~]

[Can’t wait to see when the main guy finally sweeps her off her feet.]

I clenched my jaw, swallowing the mess of emotions welling up inside me, and wrapped Natalie tightly in the blanket. I moved fast, tucking her in as gently as I could, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. My hands were shaking, but I forced myself to speak softly, soothingly. "You’re safe. Just rest now."

"You should rest."

Without waiting for her reply, I got up and took a cold shower in the bathroom. The water hit my skin like needles, but it did nothing to cool the ache in my chest. I braced my hands against the tile, head bowed, letting the steam fill up the tiny room. My phone buzzed on the counter—I ignored it, letting the world slip away for a little while.