Birding with Benefits

Chapter 14

John hadn’t seen it coming. Celeste had been shouting and jumping, shaking her hips and stomping her feet.

But then she’d turned to him and touched his face as her eyes laser-focused on his mouth. And now her fingers were threading into his beard along his jaw, and her lips were pressed against his.

This was like the bowling alley, a show for the crowd. It had to be. Because even if there was a clear spark between them, they weren’t fanning it. Celeste wouldn’t be really kissing him.

They were a fake couple, and a couple would celebrate with an easy kiss. An easy, public, closed-mouth kiss that didn’t need to be any more passionate than his awkward, dry lip-lock with Marjorie Coopers under the bleachers after baseball practice when he was fourteen.

But then Chris’s distinct whistle cut through the cheers, and Celeste laughed. And as her mouth curved against his, it drew his up like a magnet, until he and Celeste were smiling against each other. Then the hand she held to his face slipped to the back of his neck, and her tongue snaked along his bottom lip, dipping into his mouth.

And then nothing could stop his instinct to stroke his tongue against hers and bring a hand to her jaw. His thumb brushed a small circle just under her ear and she sighed into his mouth, the sound breaking into a thousand pieces and scattering themselves in his body. His tongue moved against hers, tasting lime and laughter, gathering up every little movement and sound she made and answering them all, angling her face to kiss her more deeply.

He sent more treasures into the Celeste pages in his brain: the heat of her tongue, the little dimple at the corner of her mouth, the dig of her fingernails into the back of his neck, and the low moan she poured into his mouth when his free hand landed on her hip, the curve of her bone prominent under her cotton dress.

Christ, she felt good. Better than he’d imagined. And he’d done plenty of imagining.

“Um.” Brad’s voice cut in loudly through the speakers. “Excuse me, you two?”

John froze against her, breathing hard, their lips still touching. He released his grip on Celeste’s jaw and stepped back, taking in her flushed, stunned face as her arms dropped quickly to her sides. Her chest rose and fell in sync with his, and she opened her mouth, but Brad pushed them off the short stage, shooing them back to their table.

He took his seat casually, like he hadn’t just shared one of the most stunning kisses of his life with Celeste in a room full of people. Jared looked inscrutably at John, his eyebrows drawn together.

Chris, on the other hand, greeted them with enthusiastic applause. “Amazing performance all around, you two! Celeste, you promised theater, and you delivered.”

Looking relieved, Celeste blushed and gave a little bow.

“You really know your Emily Dickinson, huh?” Jared said, pushing his cheek out with his tongue, clearly holding back a smile.

“Yeah.” Celeste picked up her beer and brought it to her mouth, but returned it to the table without taking a drink. “If you’ll excuse me, I need a little trip to the ladies’ room.” She didn’t wait for a response before making a beeline for the dark hallway of the bar.

John waited a beat for her to be out of hearing distance, then dared a look at Jared and Chris. “I don’t suppose we can skip this conversation.”

Jared shook his head. “Definitely not.”

“The kiss was nothing.”

Chris gave a low whistle. “That kiss was not nothing.”

“Not even close.” Jared threaded his fingers together behind his head. “I pride myself on having good moves, but damn, John. That was a kiss.”

“That was a goddamn kiss,” Chris echoed.

John drained his beer, wishing it were bottomless. “It was just part of the whole fake-relationship thing. Acting.” He looked to Chris. “You’re the one who congratulated us on the theater!”

But Chris just shook his head. “I was trying to defuse some tension, my friend. It was thick.”

Jared leaned forward on his elbows. “And you’re no fucking actor, John. You can’t even lie well. Remember when we broke Mom’s special vase playing knights and we came up with that whole elaborate story about the gust of wind that came in through the window? When it was time to deliver, what happened?”

John sighed. “I told her everything.”

“You told her everything. Because you, big brother, are honest to the core. Which means you certainly don’t kiss someone like that”—he motioned to the front of the bar—“without meaning it.”

John dropped his face into his hands. Of course he’d meant it. How could anyone kiss Celeste without meaning it? She was so eager, so open, so true to herself, it was impossible not to give that back to her and more.

But that didn’t mean it was smart.

“Hey.” Breena’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and he wiped his face blank. “Marisol said I should come say congratulations. So.”

John didn’t hear any actual congratulations, but nodded anyway, hoping Breena would walk away. “Thanks.” He forced a smile.

But she stayed put. “You guys sure did celebrate. Never knew you for a PDA guy.”

“Are you working toward a point, Breena?” Jared piped in. He and Breena had playfully sparred during the years she and John had dated, but there was no humor in Jared’s voice now. Even though he clearly meant well, the intervention irked John. It didn’t matter that John was the oldest, or that he’d put his life on hold to help out at home for years. No one seemed to believe he could take care of himself.

“I’m just a little surprised, I guess,” Breena bit back at Jared. “She just doesn’t seem like John’s type. I mean, she’s so—”

“Energetic?” Chris jumped in, cutting a glance at Breena.

“Silly.” Breena’s shoulders and jaw were tight as she turned back to John. “She just seems really silly for someone like you, John. She’s just a little too much, you know?”

Only then did John realize Celeste had returned to their table, stopped short just behind Breena with a stricken look on her face that left no doubt she’d overheard. In a flash, her smile was back as she gave an exaggerated clearing of her throat.

Brave.

Celeste’s smile only grew as Breena swiveled to face her, but John had observed Celeste closely enough—too closely, really—to know it was strained. “I guess I was too smart tonight, hmm? Better luck next time.” She nodded to the table. “Boys, it’s been fun, but I have papers to grade. John, I’ll text you about our next, um, date.” She swooped up her bag and was gone before he could say a word.

“Whoops,” Breena said with a careless shrug.

John watched the door close behind Celeste, already standing to follow her. But first he faced Breena.

“For the record, B, Celeste is silly,” he said simply. “She’s brilliant, too. And compassionate, and an amazing learner. And she sees magic in little things all around her, all the time. However you’ve decided to label and categorize her in your head, I promise you she’s much more than that.”

Breena stumbled back a step, her hard expression softening. “John, look, I didn’t mean—”

“You did, Breena. You don’t do anything by accident. Whatever meaning you’re placing on this contest, however badly you want to beat me, leave her out of it.”

John didn’t give Breena a chance to respond. Tossing some bills on the table, he strode to the door to catch Celeste. He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew this wasn’t how her night should end.

He spotted her down the block, almost to her car. Behind her, bathed in the washed-out light of the one streetlight on the block, the wall was full of color. It was one of John’s favorite murals, a desert scene done in the colors of sunrise—pinks and lavenders and sherbet orange—but broken apart into fractals, as if shone through a prism.

She turned when he called her name. With her head slightly tilted to one side, turquoise earrings dangling over a yellow dress, Celeste blended into the painting, setting the whole thing in motion. Wisps of her light brown hair, pulled free by his fingers moments before, played along her neck.

“Are you okay?” he asked once he reached her. “I’m sorry about Breena, that was—”

“Nothing.” She waved a hand in the air. “Honestly, nothing I haven’t heard before. Water off the back and all that.”

“Celeste—”

“Seriously.” She fiddled with the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Don’t even worry about it. Just relish our victory, right?”

A siren screamed in the distance as a group of college students poured out of a diner across the street. Celeste’s eyes roamed to her car at the curb, then back to John. “And hey, I’m sorry if I, um…” She coughed and shifted on her feet. “In there, I blew past the ground rules. When we, um…” She closed her eyes tight like it hurt to say the word. “Kissed.”

This was John’s cue to say everything was fine, that the kiss didn’t mean anything. He could play the whole thing off as the theater Chris had proclaimed it to be.

The problem was, Jared was right. John was honest to a fault, and there wasn’t a chance he could pretend that kissing Celeste had been an act.

But as he opened his mouth to try to tell her so, Celeste started to laugh.