Love Songs & Other Lies(41)



Taking my own advice, I don’t hesitate. Just do it. There is no chance for him to run, as I slam my lips into his, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to steady myself. His reaction is immediate, as his hands slip around my waist, pulling me tight to him. Warm hands slide under my shirt, landing on the cold skin just above the waist of my soaking wet jeans. It sends a shiver through me as hot meets cold. His tongue brushes along my lips and just as mine part, I feel his body go rigid. Still holding me by my hips, he pushes me back, and suddenly there’s a foot of space between us. My hands fall away from his neck at the abrupt movement, landing on his shoulders.

“Shit,” he mutters.

Not the reaction I was going for. “Shit? Really?” I twist in his grip, trying to pull myself loose, but he keeps me firmly in place.

“I shouldn’t have.”

“You shouldn’t have?” I shake my head and let out something that sounds like an agitated grunt. Did I imagine the moment? I really don’t think so. Two minutes ago, this stupid jerk wanted to kiss me. “What happened to ‘whatever’? You didn’t seem to have a problem feeling me up in Todd’s living room, in front of Cort.” I place a finger on his chest. “And I kissed you, genius. In case you didn’t notice.”

“I noticed.” He lifts a hand from my waist and runs it through his hair. “But you’re drunk.”

Is that all? He doesn’t want to kiss me when I’m drunk? Relief washes through me. Am I drunk? I don’t think so. I just feel fuzzy. My cheeks are sort of numb and my skin is hot everywhere. Is this what being drunk feels like? “I don’t think I’m drunk.”

“The fact that you’re not sure, means you probably are.” We’re still standing together, locked in our middle school dance position, and all I can think about is kissing his twitchy lips; revealing that smile I can see just under the surface.

“Maybe you should test me.” I pull away from him and walk backward, using my toe to drag a line through the sand. “I was going to say I should walk along this, but I think the fact that I can walk backward in the sand right now actually says a lot more.” I giggle as I hold my arms out to the side, lifting one index finger to my nose and then the other, before walking heel to toe down the sandy line, like people do on cop shows. Like a tightrope walker. The entire time I walk toward him, Cam’s grin grows bigger, and as I reach the end of the line, I cross one foot behind the other and curtsy like a princess.

As I hold up the skirt of my imaginary dress, Cam breaks into a fit of laughter. “I’m sure the police would love that little move. Very cute. Definitely use that some day.”

“I’m adorable. They’d love it.” Cam is still several feet from me, and as we continue to stand apart like this, a tiny twinge of doubt sets in. Maybe he thinks the kiss was a mistake. A temporary error in judgment. Maybe he was just being nice, trying to avoid this without hurting my feelings. If he wanted to, he could have kissed me weeks ago. Maybe he thinks this is a horrible idea. He has to see me at band practices, after all. At school. Earlier, I basically told him to deny our relationship. I know this thing between us is something more than an elaborate friendship. Whether I admit it out loud or not, I do know it. I stare down at my toe, drawing loops in the sand as I nervously chew my lip. Sometimes I wish I weren’t such an idiot.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you.” His voice jerks me out of my thoughts and I meet his stare. Taking a step toward me, he closes the space between us and reaches for me, gripping my wrist and pulling me the last few inches toward him. He stops me short of crashing into him and holds me there, as his other hand brushes away the hair flying across my face. “Just one stipulation.”

“There are stipulations to kissing you? Like, you have demands?”

“Just one.”

My hands settle on my hips. “I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” I don’t mean it.

“Vee.”

I look up at the dark sky, so I don’t have to look at him. “Fine. What are your demands?”

“If you wake up tomorrow and don’t remember any of this”—he’s giving me a threatening look, but he’s on the verge of smiling—“I’ll have to jog your memory by kissing you.” In the absence of his voice, the sound of the waves fills my ears. “In the middle of the cafeteria. Monday morning. In front of everyone.” He tucks another wild strand of hair behind my ear and his hand lingers on my neck, sending a shiver through me. “And there’ll be no denying … whatever … if that happens. So, consider yourself warned.”

“No forgetting. I promise to remem—” but before I can finish, his lips are on mine again. They’re soft but urgent, warm and wet. I lean into him, our bodies pressing tightly together, and his arms twist around me, trying to pull me even closer. Fingers tangle in my hair and his tongue finds mine. I’ve never been kissed like this before. We’ve waited so long to cross this line, and now that we’re on the other side, I don’t know how to step back. Why did we wait? He bites at my lip and runs his hand up my back, and I decide we might stay like this forever. We’re never leaving the beach. The wind has picked up, and suddenly the sand is pelting us, but I don’t even mind. Until Cam turns his head away and spits, wiping at his mouth.

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