28. Dove #3
Coyly, I glanced under my lashes at him and asked, “And what do good girlfriends do— ah!” A panicked yelp left me as my center of gravity shifted, my sandal teetering on a divot of uneven ground, pitching me sideways.
Josh’s hand tightened around mine, jerking me towards him, his other hand reaching out to break my fall. Somehow, I ended up cradled in his arms, looking up at him, adrenaline pumping through my veins at the close call.
“Good girlfriends,” he murmured, eyebrows pinched together and voice tight with worry, “don’t give their boyfriends a heart attack by almost breaking their necks.”
“Good boyfriends make sure that doesn’t happen.” My reply was breathy, and somewhat shaky; possibly from the near-tumble I was still reeling from, but more likely from his eyes, which were such a deep golden brown in the sunlight, they mesmerized me.
“God, Dove, I want to kiss you so badly right now,” he confessed heavily, as if he was sitting on the other side of a partition, and I was the priest who’d absolve him of that tempestuous sin.
“Me too,” I whispered, waiting with bated breath for his lips to touch mine.
But instead of kiss me, which I burned for him to do, he righted me gently, fixing my dress so it lay properly, all the while keeping the hands we’d been holding linked together.
He guided us through the sea of cars as if nothing had happened, but my mind remained back in that moment.
What I wouldn’t have given for him to kiss me, right there in public…
Was hiding our relationship really the right thing to do?
For all I’d talked about not caring what anyone thought, now that the reality of the situation was here, I worried.
I caught a glimpse of his handsome face and wondered what he was thinking. Would he have hesitated if I’d allowed him to kiss me? Or would he have pressed his lips to mine, damn the consequences, if I’d given him permission?
Conflicting questions swirled in my mind, only causing more to pop up in their place, answers eluding me.
Was I the only reason Josh held back? Or was it something else? Maybe… maybe he had no plans to stay after this summer was over and didn’t want to leave me with a big mess once he was gone.
That thought churned sourly in my stomach, causing the uncertainty that had ebbed over these past few weeks to flare back to life, taking up residence as an aching pressure behind my breastbone.
Was revealing we were together worth it if Josh didn’t remain in Haven?
Was it worth becoming fodder for a small-minded town’s harsh judgements if this relationship didn’t last?
I wanted nothing more than us to be infinite, but Josh still hadn’t convinced me otherwise.
Somewhere in the back of my mind a clock was counting down, a steady tick, tick, tick that reminded me that Josh hadn’t promised me anything, much less forever.
While I might yearn for his kiss, for him , the last thing I wanted was to be left burned, the charred shell of who I once was. Because if Josh decided to leave, if he decided I wasn’t enough to keep him in Haven, I wouldn’t survive it. Not after I’d gotten a taste of what it was like to have him.
As the cars began to thin out, the unique aroma of hot dogs and sugary funnel cake reached us, carried on the warm breeze that did nothing to ease the uncomfortable heat of the day.
Music and laughter followed, growing louder the closer we got, reminding both of us that the time to start pretending we were nothing more than stepsiblings to one another was just a short distance away.
With each step, my heart sunk, wanting nothing more than to continue holding his hand as we arrived and stake claim on Josh to everyone enjoying the festivities; wishing we could experience our first real date like any other typical couple.
But you know what they say about wishes…
Tentatively, my fingers loosened their hold from around his, but Josh’s grip stayed firm, keeping our hands joined.
In the distance a game signaled its end, emitting a series of trilling musical notes as the vendor congratulated a winner over a tinny speaker. A second later a childlike roar of victory rang out.
One more step. One more step and we’d let go.
When I could see people milling about ahead of us, their heads just visible beyond the last row of cars as they entered under the giant balloon arch set up, I tried again. “Josh…”
Reluctantly his hand slipped from mine, his fingers painstakingly extracting themselves one by one, as if lamenting their goodbye until only our pinkies remained intertwined, hooked together until the last possible second until the cars cleared into a festive blast of red and white decoration.
When no part of him no longer touched me, every nerve ending in my body flared, as if urging me to reach out again, to wrap myself around him and never let go.
Oh, how I wanted to…but I fought the impulse, empty hands clenched at my sides as I walked steadily forward, one foot in front of the other, because this was what I wanted. This was what we agreed on. Right?
So why did it feel so wrong?
As we passed under the extravagant entrance, Josh more than an arm’s length away from me, I wondered if this was all we’d ever be.
A beautiful secret, hidden away from prying eyes.