Chapter 22 Lois #2
“Look at you, Lois. You’re this close to breaking down.” He rests his hands on my shoulders. “Take it from a friend.”
A friend… I lower my eyes and bite my lip.
“Okay—but no tongues.” I can’t believe I’m actually agreeing to this.
“It’ll be more impactful with,” he says. “Trust me. I’m a screenwriter.”
“On the lips?” I blurt out, without thinking.
He leans back to give me a pointed look.
“I mean, it’ll be kind of hard to make out with your cheek, but I’ll try anything once.”
“Come on, don’t make fun of me. It’s just that—”
“He’s looking straight at us, Lois. It’s now or never.”
I can hear Kirk’s latest rebound giggling over the music. Her screeches are piercing right through me. Nails on a blackboard.
I stare at the ground, then glance at the sea. I watch Lane’s Adam’s apple as it bobs, and when he parts his lips to talk, I find myself closing my eyes. Lane is a guy—he knows what he’s doing. And I have to admit, there’s nothing I’m craving more right now than the sweet taste of revenge.
“Do it,” I murmur—so softly, I’m not sure he even heard.
A second trails by, then a handful more.
I’m just about to open one eye when I feel a soft, warm pressure.
His full lips are shy and featherlight against mine, so foreign yet stirring something so sweetly familiar all the same.
I’m rooted to the spot. Lane’s kiss is slow and smooth, tracing my lips with his without nudging any deeper, maybe because he’s scared I might run away screaming.
And he’s right to hold back—because the truth is I’m terrified.
I’ve only ever kissed one other boy before, and right here, right now, I feel out of my depth.
Maybe Kirk broke me. I’m not sure what to do with myself, and so I just stand there, frozen. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Stop thinking.” Lane hushes the words against my lips. “It’s just a kiss.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You want me to stop?”
When I don’t reply, he ends this… kiss that means nothing at all, widening the space between us.
He’s appraising me in silence, his hands still resting on my shoulders.
He brushes my cheeks with his thumbs. I know his eyes by heart now, I know they’re green—but in this moment, they somehow look different to me, though I can’t pinpoint how.
“Want to head home?” he asks, not letting go.
I can’t stop staring into his eyes. This is Lane, right? Kind. Generous. And I know it’s strange, but it’s like I’ve only just realized that he’s someone I really trust.
“Lois?”
Kirk didn’t break me—he just silenced my inner voice by slowly drowning it out. If I’m hoping to move on, I need to take back control.
“Okay, let’s go…”
He starts to step away, and as he does, all my doubts evaporate.
I’m done with the icebreakers. I catch him by the collar and pull him in, my mouth crashing into his as I part his lips with my tongue.
I’m about to pull away when his hands rise to cradle my jaw and his mouth opens, tentative and warm.
His tongue probes for mine, once, then again, bolder this time.
By the third time we’re melting into each other.
My mind goes weightless, and all that’s left is him, and the way we fit.
One of his hands slides to cup my neck and bury itself into my hair. Steadier now, more confident, he tilts his head and kisses me deeper, pressing into me like he can’t get close enough. He lets out a groan and I tighten my grip on his T-shirt, holding him near, desperate to keep him here.
I don’t know how long we spend kissing, but when we finally break apart and I feel the cool breeze against my wet lips, I am completely dazed. I let go of his T-shirt, flexing my stiff fingers and take a step back, disoriented.
“That was… solid work,” he says hoarsely. His forehead is creased.
I let out an uncontrollable laugh, and rub my arms to collect myself.
“Kirk looked pissed,” he says, nodding over to the campfire.
Wait, he was checking Kirk out while we were kissing? Because personally, I was in no state to be paying attention to anything else.
I feel so awkward all of a sudden. “Right… mission accomplished, I guess.”
“I’m going to grab another drink. Want anything?”
“Yes!” I’m practically begging. “Whatever you’re having.”
He disappears into the crowd, and I just stand there, frozen in place, pressing my lips with my fingers, my heart pounding in my chest. It’s like the blood in my veins is electric, and though my pulse should be slowing down, it’s only picking up.
I shift from foot to foot, swaying back and forth.
I want to laugh, and I want to… Where’s Lane?
I swing around to check the makeshift bar.
The lights and campfire are blinding. I scour the crowds until I lock eyes with Kirk, and I nearly choke on my own spit.
Lane was right—judging by the way Kirk is watching me from his seat on that log, he didn’t miss a second of what just happened.
I’m surprised by how unguilty I feel. I watch as he slowly puts his beer down in the sand and makes to stand.
Is he coming over here? I see him mouth something.
And then he starts walking right toward me.
But something makes me look away. It’s like my body can sense him.
Lane. He’s slouching at the bar, a glass in either hand, deep in discussion with a brunette I recognize immediately.
You have got to be kidding me. In a few quick strides, I close the space between us, so mad I almost spit the words.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Lane jumps.
“Just getting to know each other,” Emily purrs.
So now she’s trying to steal Lane, too? For real? She got what she wanted with Kirk, and now she’s got her eye on my new boyfriend? Shit, fake boyfriend, Lois! I should be stoked that she’s moved on from Kirk, but all it does is fuel my anger.
“In that case, let me get that.”
I snatch the cup away from Lane and down it in one.
“And you know what? I’ll take care of this one, too.”
I reach for the second beer, holding it up in an invisible toast. I silently curse Emily as I drain half the beer, putting an end to their cozy little chat. The way Lane is smirking at me is really getting under my skin, and I take a deep breath in to stop myself from yanking his hair.
“Have a great night, Amelia,” he drawls.
He lunges for me, grabbing me by the waist so suddenly I let out a yelp as he hoists me over his shoulder.
My cup slips from my hand and falls to the ground, spattering Lil’ Em as it goes.
I’m too far now to make out what she snarls at me, but I am close enough for her to notice the finger I’m flipping her way.
Lane hauls me through the throng of dancing bodies, and I greet familiar faces with a maniacal smile as we go, watching mouths fall open in our wake.
I pummel Lane’s lower back. “What are you doing?!”
“Saving us from a slow and painful death?”
“Seemed like you were enjoying yourself…”
He stops in his tracks and swings me down to my feet, and as I teeter backward, he grabs my T-shirt to steady me. Before he lets me go, he pulls me closer.
“You’re full of surprises, you know.”
“How so?”
“You do a great job playing the jealous chick.” He tugs on a strand of my hair.
“I hate that kind of girl. The ones who flirt with other girls’ boyfriends.”
He raises an eyebrow, and I thump him in the chest.
“Oh, please—you know what I mean.”
He studies me, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. It feels like he wants to tell me something. My eyes drift down to his lips. Jesus. Why do I want to kiss him again? I need to put a stop to this. Immediately.
“Lois?”
“Mm-hmm?”
I blink a few times before shifting my gaze up to his eyebrows. There, that’s better. Eyebrows are much safer.
“Come on.”
He takes my hand and leads me over to a speaker. The music is pretty good, and Lane is more touchy-feely than he usually is, but I’m guessing he’s still in character.
“Now that our mission is complete, can we just enjoy the rest of the night?”
Our mission—right!
“Sure thing! What shall we do?”
“Dance?” He starts moving to the beat.
I laugh, shoving him away. “I don’t think so! Keep those hips away from me, or I’m calling the cops!”
“Come on, baby. Shake that a—”
“Eww! Plus, the Lane I know doesn’t do dancing.”
“Then allow me to introduce you…” He clasps my hands in his. “Loosen up, Lois! You complain that I never open up and now you push me away?” he fake-whines. “You do realize that we passed a milestone with that kiss, right?”
Yeah… I realize it a little too much, maybe.
“It’s just—”
“Come on. Let me lead.”
Whoa. Why did that make my heart just skip a beat?
“You were sucking on my tongue ten minutes ago, and now you’re acting all shy?” He spins me around.
“Don’t say that.” It’s getting hard to breathe.
“Why? Is it making you want to do it again?” he murmurs, swaying from side to side, a hand on my lower back.
He’s joking. Isn’t he? I should be saying no—that would make perfect sense, after all. But instead, I’m reliving the feeling of his lips on mine, and I can’t think straight.
“You can say it, Lois.”
“Say what?” I can’t take my eyes off his mouth.
“That I have the lips of an angel, and all you can think about is getting another taste of my honey.”
I pull a face. “Is that a line from one of your pornos?”
My eyes drift back up to his.
“Yeah, though in the original, the character isn’t talking about saliva.”
I mime retching, and he laughs.
“This shit stays between us, okay?” I warn.
“Kind of breaks my heart that you call me giving you the best kiss of your life ‘shit.’ ”
“I kissed you, remember?”
“Glad you’re finally admitting it,” he says with a victorious smirk.
“You just pecked at me like a like an awkward teenager.”
His mouth falls open, before twisting into an exaggerated scowl. And then he takes my face in his hands, and leans in.
“What are you doing? Stop it!”