Chapter Nineteen
Lady Phoebe
His head shoots up, eyes wide. “What?”
I shrug. “If you kiss me, I won’t tell.”
“I thought you didn’t like kissing me behind Dicky’s back.”
“Yeah, well,” I swallow. “Digby isn’t here.”
“Do you want to kiss me?”
“I always want to kiss you.”
He doesn’t lean in but I know he wants to so I take the lead.
I grab his hand, pull him closer to me and press his lips to mine and for some reason this kiss feels different to all the others.
Feels a bit like our first kiss when we were about eleven.
We did a lot of stuff before he asked me out.
If you asked anyone else, we’d been dating since the start of school but he never actually asked me until I was sixteen.
I didn’t know why. Maybe he was scared? Unsure? Didn’t want to drag me into his life?
But I enjoyed it anyway. We were on holiday.
The Grosvenor’s and the Cadogan’s. A rare moment during the summer when our parents weren’t busy.
We were staying in the most gorgeous villa at Chevalier Blanc in the Maldives.
And I think it was probably the happiest two weeks of my life.
I don’t remember any other significant holidays apart from this one.
Theo was sulking the whole time, though, because Mia wasn’t allowed to come along.
But Arthur was ecstatic. We spent the days on boats, watching dolphins and having near death experiences every time Theo and Arthur climbed to the highest rocks and back flipped off.
At nighttime, when everyone else was asleep, we snuck off to the pool in his villa which was next door to ours and went swimming.
We swindled our ways into the private spas and yoga sessions to laugh at our parents and it was truly, wholeheartedly the best time.
But on the last night of our holiday when he knocked on my villa door to go swimming, he seemed nervous.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, splashing him with water.
He sat on the edge, kicking his feet in the water. “Nothing.”
“Come in, then!” I swam over, pulling his ankle.
He fell in, pushing to the surface seconds later and stared at me with the highlight of the moon behind him. Even then, I knew he was perfect, that there was something special about him that I just had to keep for myself.
“Phoebs, can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Have you ever kissed someone?”
His cheeks went bright red and his lips didn’t stop twitching. I laughed.
“Ew, no. Freddy said if I kiss boys, I’ll get something called herpes.”
He scrunched his face up. “That’s not true. Theo and Mia kiss all the time and they’re fine.”
I shrugged, bobbing around the water.
“Why do you ask, anyway?”
He smiled. “I was just asking.”
It dropped and I giggled. “Do you want to kiss me?”
He shrugged, all very sheepish and shy now.
“We can, if you want to,” I offered.
“Alright, then.”
He swam over to me, grabbed my face between both hands and looked at me for a second before bursting out with laughter. “I don’t know how to kiss.”
“Eh,” I shrugged my lips. “Neither do I.”
I closed my eyes like they did in the films and waited for the feel of his lips against mine. I wasn’t sure what to expect. But when the feel of his soft lips pecked mine, I knew I wanted him to do it again.
“How was that?” He breathed, looking nervous.
“It was okay?”
“Oh, sorry,” he laughed. “Should we try again?”
“Okay,” I nodded.
This time, when his lips touched mine, they stayed there longer and then he moved his head slightly but I wasn’t sure what to do so I just stood there in the pool, with my lips pouting against his.
Eventually, after a few seconds, I got it and moved my head with his.
We didn’t open our mouths. There was no tongue, obviously, because that was gross and we were kids.
When Arthur pulled back from me and brushed his wet hair off his forehead he looked thoroughly pleased with himself.
“That was better, weren’t it?”
“Why did you want to kiss me?”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I don’t know? Because I like you?”
“You like me?”
“Yeah,” he laughed and nodded. “Why? Do you not like me?”
“I do but I just thought you liked me the same way you liked Connie.”
He frowned. “I do like you like that but I also like you the way Theo likes Mia.”
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” I smiled.
“We’re a bit young for that, aren’t we?” He shrugged. “We can still kiss, though, can’t we?”
I shook my head. “Nu-uh. Freddy told me you should never kiss a guy who just wants to be friends.”
He groaned. “But we’re not only friends—I mean, we are friends—I just like you in other ways, as well.”
“Oh,” I frowned. “She didn’t say anything about that so I guess we could?”
Arthur and I haven’t stopped kissing since.
Even all these years later when I have a boyfriend, we’re kissing because there’s something just so magical about it.
Maybe it’s because I spent my entire childhood with my lips locked on his so it reminds me of those times.
When it was all just special and magical and wonderful and grown up—and ours.
“Shit,” Arthur pulls back with a smile, racks a hand through his hair. “We shouldn’t have done that, really.”
I roll my eyes. “Get over yourself. It’s not the end of the world.”
Raises his eyebrows, blinks a couple times, looks at me with an uncomfortable face. “Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
He swallows, looks away from me. “Why did you and Bliss fall out?”
I pull back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“No, nothing. It just came to me and I haven’t asked you about it.”
I stare at him. “You were thinking of Bliss while we were kissing? Do you know what? I might go back home and tell Digby all about your lips.”
He laughs. “No, obviously not. But when I came back, the boys told me not to bring it up but I feel like I should?”
“It was so long ago, Arthur. I can’t even remember.”
It’s a lie so obvious that even he picks up on it.
“It must’ve been bad. You two were like sisters.”
I throw my hands up. “We were on holiday—the first year you were away—and we just had too much to drink. She was drunk, so was I and we said stuff.”
He raises one eyebrow. “You haven’t spoken to her in two years because of a drunken brawl?”
“It was not a brawl,” I scoff, offended. “I’d never ‘brawl’.”
He takes a few steps toward me, reaches for my hand but I pull back.
“What did she say, then?”
I shake my head, turn away from him. “Nothing.”
He says nothing but he’s still standing there, imposing, prying, opening me up, taking my clothes off and I need him not to.
I loved him before the drugs, during the drugs and after the drugs but I’m just not sure if I loved myself throughout those years of loving him and the deeper he crawls inside of me, the comfier he’ll get.
When he inevitably walks back out, it’s going to hurt so much more than if he was just sitting on the edge of me.
I don’t say bye, I don’t feed him a lie, I just leave. I walk off and back into the hall full of the people I don’t want to be around right now.
And I know he’s probably confused—I would be. I want him to kiss me and then I don’t and then I want to be with him and then I walk away. He got deep when he danced with me earlier, even deeper when we went outside, further when I kissed him but I’ve pulled him out now that I’ve walked away.
He won’t get hurt, I tell myself when I watch him come back inside and beeline for Astrid. He’s safe on the outside, with her, I repeat when they take to the floor and dance with his hands on her hips.