Chapter Fourteen #2
“There’s nothing.” His gaze drops away. “Well… you could marry someone else. James might be willing. But the sex thing would be a sticking point.”
“Very funny.” It would be for most people. Even if there are other lonely men on the island, I don’t fancy the idea of turning up at the local watering hole and auctioning myself off to the highest bidder. Like Sid said, most men would want sex out of the deal. So it’s him or…
It’s him. My only option.
“Kiss me.” Who said that? Oh yeah. Me. The words are out so fast, it’s more like an intrusive thought than a well-considered request.
Unsurprisingly, Sid startles backwards. “Excuse me?”
“Kiss me right now, Sid Charles, or I won’t marry you.
” When he only gapes at me, I let out an exasperated huff.
“We have to convince people! I want some proof you can be convincing before I say yes. Otherwise, I’ll just end up in more trouble, with more demerits and then I’ll have to give up April—”
“Right. Fair. Very fair.” His eyes flick up and down, taking all of me in. The fact that he’s got a look of outright horror on his face is not encouraging. But I hold my ground, though not for the reason I gave him. I’m far less worried about his performance than my own.
I haven’t touched a man since Curtis died. What if I recoil at his touch? What if I start crying? Fake or not, being with someone could trigger me in a way that sends the whole charade crashing down.
He scootches closer to me on the bench. I close my eyes and tip my chin, a desperate refrain circling my mind.
He’s just a body. Just a body. Just a body with free healthcare.
The heartbeat in my ears is at a fever pitch but he’s clearly too nervous to get it over with, so I sit there, awkwardly waiting.
I open my eyes, about to tell him to forget about it.
We’ve already failed. But my scowl seems to be the kick in the ass he needs.
Before I can call it off, his arm scoops me up by the waist.
It happens so abruptly, I let out a startled gasp, which means my mouth is slightly open when we meet.
Pine and cigarette smoke flood my senses.
We never discussed tongue, but he seems to take my parted lips to mean that he’s supposed to test those waters, too.
His crooked nose slides against my cheek as he deepens the kiss.
At that, an avalanche cracks open inside my skull, drowning me in a deafening chorus of shrieks and screams; a massive, continental shift that is so profound, it obliterates everything that comes after it.
I don’t know how long I spin inside the aftershocks.
I’m barely sensible of myself. There’s nothing to guide my body other than instinct and without mental intervention, my physical form just keeps kissing him.
My hands tighten around the collar of his shirt as his tongue curls against mine.
A soft mmm comes out of me. I press in further, brain gloriously blank.
Even my legs are moving on their own, climbing towards his lap.
That’s when he breaks away, shoving me back to my own side of the bench. Cold air rushes in where he used to be and with it, my conscience.
What the hell was that? In a weird way, it doesn’t even feel like I was there for it.
As I catch my breath, my mind’s eye scans over the rubble left behind by the mental avalanche.
It’s a jumbled mess, the scattered boulders made up of worry over April, guilt on behalf of Curtis, and horror at how easily my body remembered how to kiss a man.
But also… relief. We could pull this off. My experiment was a success.
I’ve got a lifetime of bad memories to get in the way of another relationship. But rather than overwhelming me, the cacophony renders me numb. It’s perfect. I could go to town on him without feeling a thing.
“So… what do you think?” he asks.
I touch my mouth, analyzing the sensations of the past minute. “Sid?”
“Yeah?”
“You said you’re trying to quit smoking?”
“Oh shit.” He hides his face in his hands. “I am so sorry. I didn’t think—”
“No, it’s fine, just… keep working on it, I guess.” I feel like an asshole, but what am I supposed to say? Tell him he’s a good kisser? Even if it’s true, what a weird thing to say to a friend! “Maybe we try for no aftertaste next time?”
“Next time?” He straightens to attention.
Even seated on a bench, his height is intimidating.
My heart hasn’t stopped hammering since he kissed me, but it grows even more frantic as another instinct takes hold—the same part of my brain that fired a slingshot at him a month ago.
But that version of Kayla wasn’t the one who surfaced during the kiss.
The paranoid side of me is weaker than the part that trusts him.
I nod, before I lose my nerve. “I think we could do this, if you still want to.”
“I do.”
What an ominous phrase.
“April runs out of insulin in a few days,” I say. “How fast can we get this done?”
“We can go to City Hall tomorrow,” he says. “I can ask Silas and James to serve as witnesses.”
“Tomorrow, then. Great.” Now that it’s decided, I can’t get away from him fast enough. I hop off the log and dust bits of bark from my pants, hoping it hides how much my hands are shaking. “And then… maybe we can stop by the hospital? Get Doctor Tremblay to put April’s care in your name?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Great. Thank you.” I stare at him, knowing I should say more. Words should be easier with the man who will be my husband tomorrow. “You’re… You’re a really good friend.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
We both make laughing noises. Ha ha ha. This is so funny. What a quirky friendship we have!
At that I salute him. (Yes, a salute. What are my hands doing? My body is clearly still confused.) Then I take off towards the unit I share with April. Though… that probably is about to change, too. If I marry Sid, that means I’m staying long-term, and Silas will want his place back.
If I were braver, I would have stayed with Sid and started hashing those details out. For another thing, what’s expected of me as a politician’s wife? But whatever it is, I’ll do it. It’s not a lot to ask, if it means I can take care of my sister.