Resonance (Fractured Frequencies #2)

Prologue

Declan

Don’t worry, it’s only a silly game.

But Seven Minutes in Heaven is slowly turning into Seven Minutes of Pure Hell as I bang on the door in time with the rhythmic chants of kiss, kiss, kiss outside.

I know we’re dumb high schoolers, and after one wine cooler, everyone thinks they’re hardcore, but seriously?

This game? Aren’t we a little too old for it?

I didn’t even want to come here in the first place. Sure, Shelly’s folks being out of town usually means one killer party, but I’m not in the mood and haven’t been for a while now. Not when each day closer to graduation means leaving this place and my best friend behind.

“Dude, just kiss me.”

Glaring at Cooper over my shoulder, I pound my fist again before leaning forward and resting my forehead on the cool wood.

“Is it honestly that big of a deal?” The sound of shuffling fills the small space, metal hooks from the hangers scraping the rail as he moves. “I mean, it’s just a kiss, and you know they won’t let us out until we do.”

My jaw twitches. “We just need to wait out the timer.”

Cooper snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

Sighing, I turn around, hyperaware of the way my pulse thuds in my throat.

Cooper’s uniquely blue-gray eyes shine in the dim, yellow light overhead, his dark blond curls disheveled like he’s run his hands through them, even though I know better.

It’s just the way they fall, slipping over his forehead in a way that makes my fingers itch to brush them back.

Just to see if they’re as soft as I’ve imagined.

“I don’t get what the big deal is. It’s not like you haven’t kissed someone before,” he teases.

The sound from the other side of the door falls to nothing the second he smirks, his full pink lips turning up at the sides.

“It’s not that,” I say, pressing my back against the door like the inch of space between us will allow me to breathe.

“Then what is it?” he asks as he leans into the coats hanging behind him. “If you can’t kiss your best friend as a dare, then who can you kiss?”

“Literally anyone else,” I deadpan, making him grab his chest mockingly.

“Wow. Straight for the jugular, Declan Cohen.” His tongue peeks out and brushes his lower lip. Heat pools low in my stomach as my eyes track the movement. I tense, swallowing thickly, trying to think of anything but the fact that all I’d need to do is lean forward and capture those lips with mine.

“Kiss me,” he murmurs.

“Coop…”

“Here, I’ll even turn out the light so it’s less weird.”

Yeah…pretty sure the light is the least of my problems.

His arm brushes my shoulder as he tugs the light cord, mint and metal filling the space between us, the clean bite of gum on his breath tangled with that faint trace of guitar string he always carries.

It grows stronger as we’re plunged into darkness, save for the sliver of light creeping under the door.

“There,” he whispers, the word amplified in the shadows.

My eyes adjust, and my ears pick up things they didn’t before. Like the uneven sound of his breathing, as if he’s nervous. He feels closer now, too, the heat from his body radiating in the small space.

“Cooper,” I murmur as my hand finds his hip, squeezing in warning. Beads of sweat prickle along the back of my neck, while the hair on my arms rises with anticipation.

“Dec,” he taunts, his hand landing on my chest, right over the erratic pulsing of my heart. “It doesn’t mean anything; it’s just a game.”

“I know, but—”

“Then kiss me.” He chuckles lightly, and I can picture his smile in the dark, the way his nose wrinkles at the top.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss.”

I lick my suddenly dry lips. The moment I’ve been fantasizing about is here, presenting itself in a way that just feels…wrong.

“Declan,” he prompts once more, sliding his hand upward to the back of my neck and making me shiver.

I can’t breathe. My lungs practically seize, preventing anything from entering or escaping.

“Kiss me, goddamnit,” he snarls, fucking snarls, and then his grip tightens, pulling me toward him.

His warm breath fans over my lips, the cool scent from his gum sharp enough that I can almost taste it, can almost imagine how his mouth would mold to mine, how perfect his tongue would be. “Kiss me already.”

He’s right there, his nose ghosting the tip of mine as he edges me closer.

“Not like this,” I snap, hands flat on his shoulders, arms locked straight, keeping him there even when everything inside me wants to give in. My fingers twitch, the shaking starting before I can stop it, and I tear them away, hiding them in my pockets, hoping he can’t tell how wrecked I am.

“What?” leaves him on a breath.

Swallowing roughly, I shove my hand through my hair. “N-Nothing.”

Cooper reaches for me, but I’m quicker, turning the handle and throwing my weight against the door.

Two obnoxious douchebags on the football team grunt as they’re pushed back, sneering as I elbow my way through the small crowd that’s gathered there while some girl complains loudly there’re still two minutes left on the clock.

“Dec? Hey, wait up,” Cooper calls after me, his voice drowned in a sea of boos from our classmates as I go in search of my coat. Finding it over the back of a couch, I snatch it up and head for the door, just as Cooper grabs my arm, stopping me.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern drawn across his face. “What happened?”

My pulse is going haywire, my mind barely able to form a coherent sentence, and as I open my mouth to speak, the only thing I can think of falls out.

“Just because we’re the only two gay guys in class doesn’t mean they get to shove us in a closet and expect us to perform like two fucking show ponies.”

Cooper freezes, staring at me. His eyebrows hitch up a fraction before sucking his lips between his teeth and biting down on a laugh.

“What?” I grit out, taking my frustration over something else out on him. “It’s fucking pathetic. Just because we’re best friends doesn’t mean they can make us—”

“Whoa, chill for a sec,” he says, his hands coming to either side of my face and pulling my head down to look into his eyes. “No one shoved us in the smallest, dingiest coat closet because we’re gay—”

Realistically, I know that. Everyone knows that. It’s not about them. Not really. It’s about me, about how fast my heart’s been pounding since the door shut.

I’m about to argue when he moves his fingers, pressing them over my lips, cutting me off.

“—or because we’re besties. I spun the bottle, it landed on you, and you know the rules. Besides, Kirsty and Claire went in there and made out, and I’m pretty sure Kirsty is sexting that dude from the burger shack.”

As quickly as I can blink, he leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose.

“No sweat, okay?” He releases his hold and takes a half-step back, shrugging one shoulder. “And I totally get you not wanting to kiss me. I mean, I’d be scared of falling in love with me too.”

The joke lands like an ice bath after practice without warning, my entire body shocked into a cold awareness. Cooper’s head tips back, his long, slender neck pulling taut, the veins running up the length of it a teasing temptation for my tongue as a boisterous laugh escapes him.

“Seriously,” he says, linking his arm in mine and tugging me toward the exit. “You’re all stressy tonight. What’s up with you?”

“Just thinking about the game next weekend,” I lie as I tug my jacket closer, my breath clouding the unusually cold Canadian air as we walk down the street toward our houses.

“You’re gonna be on fire,” he says, pressing into my side. “And then, in a few months, you’ll be heading to Michigan…”

He keeps talking, arm tight in mine, oblivious to the rampant thoughts flitting through my head like a swarm of angry bees. Graduation, college, that almost kiss.

Not like this.

Jesus, what did that even mean? God knows, I won’t have the balls to kiss him again. But tonight, it was right there, the perfect excuse, a way for me to blame the game if things got awkward between us. Only, I chickened out.

Not like this.

It’s not like I haven’t thought about it more than I care to admit… Pushing him against a wall and smashing our mouths together. Or catching him lost in his music and casually pressing my lips to his.

In every version, he never shies away, always pushes for more, moans into my mouth in a way that could make me come from the sound alone. But the fear of rejection changes the narrative, the fantasy collapsing and he’s pushing me off, disgust written all over his face.

“Dec?”

I’ve barely noticed we’ve slowed, that we’re standing in front of our houses, the pair of them separated by Mrs. Bunkley’s place and her three yappy Chihuahuas. He frowns, the beautifully unique color of his eyes stealing the breath from my lungs as he looks up at me.

“Huh?”

“I said, we’ll never lose touch. You know that, right?” He says it like he’s reminding himself, not actually asking.

Knocking his shoulder with my fist, I force a weak smile, scuffing my foot along the edge of the grass. “I couldn’t get rid of you if I tried.”

“Damn straight.” Cooper grins, turning toward his path before spinning back. “Oh, you’re still going to come by Plucked tomorrow, right?”

I stare at him, confused, and he rolls his eyes.

“I told you, we got new stock in, and I wanted you to hear a new song I’ve been writing.”

“Oh, right.” I pull at my ear, guilt worming its way in. I completely forgot I said I’d do that. I’ve been too wrapped up in drills and trying to out skate the pressure sitting on my damn shoulders before starting college to hold on to anything else. “Sure. What time?”

Cooper groans, rolling his head dramatically before spinning away and lifting his hand in a wave. “Four-thirty. Set an alarm as a reminder.”

He mumbles to himself as he walks away, but I don’t hear it. Not really, because something starts to spread inside my chest. Not quite panic, but it’s just as loud. My ribs squeeze, my mouth goes dry, and before I can think better of it, I move.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from the closet, or the ghost of his touch earlier, or maybe it’s the way his scent clings to my jacket, but my footsteps echo in the night, my hand shooting out and grabbing his wrist, yanking him back.

“Wha—”

Time fractures, stretching long enough that everything around us has heightened, a kind of hyper-focus I usually feel on the ice washing over me.

It’s like my body forgets how to move, how to breathe, caught somewhere between panic and desire.

It’s only seconds, I know that, but it feels endless, everything amplified, the cold air stinging my lungs with each shallow breath, the thundering of my pulse in my throat, the way Cooper’s eyes lower to my lips.

“Dec…”

His words vanish against my mouth as I pull him into me, fingers threading into his soft curls, holding him like I’m afraid this is one of those scenarios where he’ll push me away.

For a split second, he goes still, a tiny squeak of surprise caught between us, like he can’t quite believe I’m the one kissing him.

But he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he sighs into the kiss, the sound soft and shaky, and my heart kicks up a notch as his hands latch onto my waist, sliding up and under my jacket and pressing into my lower back.

His touch is cold, even through the fabric of my shirt, but it’s like fire on my skin, and the embers that have glowed inside me since the day I realized I was into guys—into him—roar to life.

Dragging my tongue along the seam of Cooper’s lips, he opens for me almost as if he’s been waiting for this for as long as I have. Kissing me back, he matches my heat, my hunger, exploring every inch like he already knows the shape of my mouth but wants to memorize it all over again.

His hands roam higher, mapping the muscles of my back as my fingers curl in his hair, tugging lightly until he moans. The sound is nothing like I imagined, and I want more, to hear the way his voice would break when he breathes my name.

We’re frantic, a mess of tongues and teeth, until we’re not. The pace shifts, slowing into languid strokes that uncover the part of me I’ve kept buried for so long. Cooper’s fingertips trace my obliques in gentle, featherlight brushes, each stroke sending shivers up my spine.

Eventually, we pull apart, his eyes glassy, lips kiss-swollen and glistening in the streetlamps, parted as if he wants to say something but can’t.

“Like that,” I whisper. “Not in a closet, not as a joke for our friends. That.”

He swallows audibly, his gaze flicking between my eyes and mouth, confusion and an unreadable emotion twisting in the space between his eyebrows.

One hand drifts up, fingers brushing his lips like he’s trying to make sense of what happened.

Quiet stretches between us, thick and unbearable.

God, if he laughs, I’ll never survive it.

Tearing myself away, I beeline across the front lawn to my door, the taste of him lingering on my tongue, the feel of his lips leaving mine tingling.

That kiss…it was everything I ever wanted and everything I feared wrapped up into one.

Because now? It’s not just a silly little crush I thought I could squash. It’s not a game or curiosity.

It’s so much more.

And after tonight, I’m pretty sure nothing between me and Cooper Riddick will ever be the same.