Chapter 30 #3
His eyes flicked from mine to my mouth, then back again. He looked completely overwhelmed, but his hands kept pulling me in like he didn’t know how to let go.
“Atty, for fuck’s sake, come on,” I urged, cupping his face and tilting it toward mine.
I wanted it to be him. I needed it to be him.
This was my last first kiss, after all. And I just selfishly wanted it to be him. For once, I wanted to feel like I was the person someone chose.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I begged, barely holding it together.
And then he did.
His lips pressed softly over mine, and my breath hitched at the contact—at the impossible electric impulse crashing through that soft point of connection.
Suddenly, the music wasn’t quiet anymore; it roared back to life, Belinda Carlisle declaring proudly how this man had literally just dragged me into heaven.
I sighed into his mouth, answering every one of his kisses—soft, tentative, like he was still unsure. Like he didn’t know this was already everything. Nothing had ever come close to this. It was, without question, the best fucking kiss on the planet, and I needed more of him.
Tilting his jaw, I pressed my lips more firmly to his, hoping he’d feel it—this was his. He could have whatever he wanted from me. That I would never, ever stop him.
But he did.
He stopped. Maybe to process. Maybe to breathe. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I couldn’t let him.
I kissed the corner of his mouth. His cheek. Then back to those soft, inviting lips. He responded right away—his tongue brushing mine—and I welcomed it like it was oxygen. That first touch lit something up inside me.
The warmth of it spread fast, flooding my chest, my limbs, all the way to my fingertips. I leaned in, ready to devour him, to take every kiss he gave and turn it into fire.
His arms wrapped tightly around my waist. My fingers threaded into his hair and held on.
But he didn’t let me rush him.
He deepened the kiss just enough, slowing us both down before I could push too hard. And he was right. This—this was even better. I melted into him, another sigh slipping from my lips.
Then he pulled back again, eyes still closed, breath falling warm and shallow between us.
God, he was beautiful.
His eyes fluttered open, and when they locked on mine, it was like everything around us stilled.
Something passed between us—a click of connection, of absolute rightness, like a puzzle piece falling perfectly into place.
This was it. He was it.
If there was ever such a thing as true love’s kiss, we’d just had it. And he was fucking Prince Charming, bringing me back to life.
“Wow,” I breathed, a laugh catching in my throat, soft and stunned. “Just…wow.”
Atty licked his lips, gaze dipping before landing on mine again. “Can I keep kissing you?”
I nodded instantly. “Yes. Don’t stop, Atty. Kiss me all you want.”
And he did. Again and again.
His lips were warm and unhurried, the soft drag of them against mine leaving a trace of heat that made my whole body ache. His breath hitched just slightly, and I could smell the faint scent of his skin, something so him it made my chest pull tight.
My hands slid along the curve of his jaw, the roughness of day-old stubble brushing against my fingertips. I found the dip at the back of his neck and held on—anchoring myself to the only thing that felt real, the only place I wanted to be.
We kept kissing until I didn’t know where he ended and I began.
All I knew was that I wanted to do this—with him—forever.
We talked. I tried to warn him, to ask him to slow down. Because if he didn’t, I’d blurt out that I wanted to marry him right now and scare the shit out of him.
And we kissed. And kissed. And kissed.
His hands never wandered. Never asked for more. He didn’t make me feel disposable—not for a single second.
He stayed right there with me. Steady. Present. Safe.
And all those reasons I’d had to push him away? They dissolved. Everything else disappeared.
It was just him. And that was all I needed.
That night, after we fell asleep in each other’s arms, I quietly untangled myself and slipped into the bathroom.
Without hesitation, without second-guessing, or thinking it through, I uncapped the bottle of sleeping pills and let them tumble into the toilet. The water rushed, swallowing them whole until they vanished from sight.
I crawled back into bed and into his arms, clinging to him as I took in his sleeping face. I traced the line of his nose with the tip of my finger, brushed my lips gently over his, and stared at the soft fan of his blond lashes resting against his cheeks.
He didn’t just look like an angel—Atty was one.
An angel who’d fallen from heaven just to save me.
And in his arms, I was safe.
I made him a silent promise then.
I would change. I would be better.
I would become the person he thought I was.
And one day, I would be enough for him.
I promised.
And if everything went to shit—if I couldn’t quiet the voices, if I couldn’t stop myself from turning into her, if his absence kept threatening to swallow me whole—well…
At least I got to feel this before I left.
At least I got him, just for a moment.