Chapter 20 #2
“Well, when I was a kid, they were the only books in the house.” She offered up a sheepish shrug. “Sometimes I had a library card, so that meant I could check out other books, but sometimes when we moved, there would be a new library, and my mother wasn’t great about taking me to get a card.”
My heart pinged. “I never went to libraries, because my father allowed me to fill out a list of the books I wanted, and he would buy them all. In hindsight, I wish I could’ve gone to a library. I just missed out that way.”
“Could you read whatever you wanted?”
“Yeah. That was mostly fantasy, some mystery.” I laughed to myself. “I read Stephen King, although I freaked myself out with that a few times.”
“I freaked myself out with Stephen King too. The first book of his I read was Salem’s Lot. There was a tree outside my window at the time, and it brushed against the glass. I convinced myself it was vampires trying to get in.”
“What’s your favorite King book?”
“The Shining,” she answered without hesitation. “Even though I know he hated the movie, that’s my favorite horror movie too.”
“That’s a great movie,” I agreed. “The Stand is my favorite.”
We lapsed into comfortable silence as she finished off the ice cream. She shifted her phone to check the time. “I should get going.” She didn’t sound thrilled about it, but we were in a weird place. We both needed sleep.
“I’ll walk you.” I automatically stood at the same time she did, and our chests bumped together.
I instinctively reached out to steady her but didn’t move away. She didn’t either.
We stood there for a long moment, heat swirling between us, and all I could do was study her mouth.
I wanted to kiss her again—more than anything—but it wasn’t a good idea.
She’d become my friend. Heck, she was almost my best friend at this point.
Sure, I still had Nathan, but I spent more time with her.
We talked about everything. We laughed about movies.
Sometimes we would watch the same show and text.
Dexter: Resurrection was our current favorite.
“I…”
“We…”
We spoke at the same time then dissolved into nervous fits of laughter.
“You go first,” she said.
This was my breaking point. I had never wanted anything more than I wanted her. Yes, I was afraid of her getting nervous and ending the friendship. I was never going to get what I truly wanted unless I said something, however. So that was what I did.
“I want to kiss you.” The words rushed out. “So much. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since last time.”
She blinked rapidly but didn’t immediately respond.
“I’m guessing you don’t want that,” I added, vulnerability I wanted to shove to the side bubbling up.
“I didn’t say that,” she replied in a husky voice.
My heart skipped ten beats. “Do you want to kiss me?”
“I didn’t say that either.” The words weren’t welcome, but her small smile was. “Maybe,” she added almost as an afterthought.
“Maybe?”
She laughed, a nervous little sound that had me going warm all over.
“Tell me what you want,” I said. It wasn’t an order as much as a plea.
“I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’ll kiss you and it will be so good we go into the bedroom.”
I nodded in understanding. “And you’re afraid that will be bad?”
“No, I’m afraid it will be good.”
Now I was confused. “And why is that a bad thing?”
“Because I don’t do relationships.”
“How come?”
“Because I don’t want to become my mother.”
There was a lot she didn’t say, but I could read between the lines. “You could never be your mother.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because… you just can’t be her.” I shook my head. “You’re a good person. You might be the best person I’ve ever met.”
“I ruined your panel.”
“You tried to make it better. I didn’t let you.” My fingers were light when I brushed her hair away from her face. “Can I kiss you?”
I wouldn’t do it without her permission. If she said no, I would force myself to remain in the friend zone for the rest of my life. I would hate it, but I would do it.
Her sigh was long and drawn out. “Yeah, you can kiss me.”
I didn’t wait for her to change her mind.
Those words were like oxygen, and warm breath blew through my very soul.
The second our lips touched, explosions started going off inside my head.
I saw colors I’d never seen before. I felt warmth I’d never felt.
She melted into my arms and gave herself entirely to me.
It felt as if my heart was rupturing in my chest, repairing itself, then doing it all over again. I had never felt a connection this strong with anybody before. She emptied me and filled me up with every touch of her lips.
I have no idea how long the kiss lasted. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. All I knew was that when I finally pulled back, panting, her lips were red and swollen. There was no doubt mine were too.
“Do you want me to walk you home?” I asked, surprising myself with how husky my voice was.
She shook her head.
Hope welled in my chest. “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”
Her grin was rueful. “How come I have to answer all the questions? Why can’t you just ask me to stay?”
“Because I need this to be something you want, not something I convince you to do.”
“Why is that important to you?”
I answered honestly. “Because it’s important to you.”
Apparently, that was the right answer. She linked her fingers with mine and tugged me toward the hallway that led to my bedroom.
“You’re going to break my streak,” she mused, perhaps more to herself than me.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t do relationships, and yet…”
I didn’t need her to finish the sentence. We both knew where this was going. “Let’s just take it one step at a time, huh? We don’t need to define anything.”
“Okay.”
I followed her into my bedroom and finally got what I’d been wishing for.