Fluffy(61)

“This isn’t some teen movie, Will. Kissing me in public isn’t going to save the day.”

“No, it won’t. But it will definitely feel good. I’m about to kiss you because I want to feel good with you. I want to make you feel good. And I’m pretty sure that when we kiss, we’ll feel even better.” My hands belie my words as he speaks, the folds of his shirt between my fingers, the tight stretch of the fabric drawing him to me.

“Is that how kisses work? They’re exponential?” I ask, my voice shaking but full of jokes I don’t mean.

“I imagine they are, with you. Now shut up and let’s find out.”

The space between us folds and he’s kissing me, his mouth so perfect, the connection natural and good and how did I ever live without being in his arms? Twenty-eight years without this magic is twenty-eight years of being flat in a world that turns out to be four-dimensional. I didn’t know.

I thought I knew.

But I really didn’t know.

If people notice, I’m not aware of it, spinning and spinning inside. All the parts of me that have wanted this man for so long cling to him. Fingertips dig into his shoulders, brushing against the ends of his dark hair at the edges where they touch his neck. My breasts flatten against his chest as his mouth moves against mine, arms caging me in like this is his one and only chance to kiss me across all the random chances and infinite combinations of our souls being in the same place at the same time under the perfect circumstances.

And instead of waiting, he's just invented one. Taking the kiss means breaking a spell we didn't know had been cast against us.

Our magic is stronger.





17





A rush of whispers fills my ears, like millions of feathers being dropped onto a field of daisies, the brush of one distinct surface against another so different, making a friction that is like a seventh sense. His lips are on mine, then his tongue makes a gentle entrance, a quiet, heartfelt move that crosses the gap from Let's explore to Let's get real.

His taste is on the tip of my tongue, which is moving against his, my hand that was on his shoulder sliding up his neck, the powerful warmth of his skin heating my blood. Music swirls around us, the DJ's light show the closest we can come to the stars in the sky, my entire world collapsing into all the places where Will touches me.

The music goes quiet but Will doesn't stop. Our kiss deepens, bodies swaying. As time passes I become acutely aware of people in small clusters, some ignoring us, some whispering.

“I don't know how that happened,” Gemma says to my left, her voice distinct. It always had a Valley Girl aspect to it, anachronistic and nasal. When I met women who'd actually been raised in that part of California, I found myself wondering how Gemma and her sisters had such a stereotypical voice from another place, but at this moment, as Will's pulling back from the kiss and I'm dazed, it's the last thing on my mind.

My eyes shift toward her, anyhow. She's standing with Alisha and a woman who is likely Erin, another cheerleader from back in the day. Erin is hugely pregnant and looks miserable.

“Some people trade down, I guess,” Alisha says, giving Gemma a sympathetic pat on the wrist.

Then they both look straight at me.

Raye and Sanni happen to be at the bar, right next to them. Raye overhears everything, face flushing like she always did in high school, emotions all over her face, eyes wide and narrow at the same time.

Will stiffens, fingertips digging into my back with possession. As his heat fades from me, body turning toward his past, a low sigh filled with determination coming out of him, I pivot and leave.

This time, for good.

Rushing out of the room, I practically trip over Perky, who is sitting on the floor, ass against the wall, high heels strewn about her bare feet like adoring fans around a guru. Manoosh Baer, an exchange student from eleventh grade, is next to her, their heads huddled as they scroll through a series of pictures on her phone.

“Eep!” I let out, barely avoiding falling on her.

“Maaal!” she calls out, her voice making it clear she's really availed herself of the cash bar. “Where ya goin'?”

“I'm done, Perk.”

Instant sobriety makes her abandon poor Manoosh, who looks crestfallen. Running toward me as I fling open the double doors to the parking lot, Perky shouts, “WHAT DID WILL DO TO YOU?”

“HE KISSED ME!” I scream back.

All the outrage she's mustered on my behalf hovers over her head like a demon who suddenly has no mission. “What? He what?”

“HE KISSED ME! ON THE DANCE FLOOR! IN FRONT OF PEOPLE!”

“And you're... mad at him?”

“YES! No! I don't–it's everyone else, Perky! It's the assholes! ALISHA IS AN ASSHOLE!” I scream.

“Well, duh.” Manoosh has joined us, standing next to Perky in his suit, tie askew, hair a mussed series of gorgeous waves, big brown eyes aware and curious.

For some reason, his response cuts through everything. I start laughing so hard that my belly cramps, one ankle turning in as my legs can't support so much emotion. Someone's red Corvette provides me with instant stability as I lean against it, giggling my way to tears.

I should never have come to this stupid reunion.

“See? Even Manoosh knows the truth!” Perky screams, hysterical with that effect alcohol has on someone who rarely drinks. Then she adds more quietly, “He was only here for a year and he saw through them. The ones who changed are fine. The ones who stayed exactly the same are so brittle, Mal. They throw stones and hammers because they're terrified you might have the tools and use them first. They have to crack you to feel relevant.”