His Reverie (Reverie #1)(22)

I jerk my gaze back up to hers. “Why did you leave just now?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you.” She practically spits the last two words out.

“What are you talking about?” I think I know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Are you with Heather?”

“What? No way.” I shake my head, shocked she would come out and ask me point blank. “Michael’s hot for her, not me.”

Her expression softens though she still sounds skeptical. “Well, she seemed very interested in you.”

“It was nothing, I swear. We were talking while Michael was lighting the fireworks. He let me set a few off but after a while, he wanted to take over completely. So I let him.” I shrug. “He was just showing off for Heather. Trying to impress her.”

“She acted like she was trying to impress you.” She sounds jealous. And sick ass that I am, I like it.

“Not even,” I scoff because yeah. I doubt she’s interested in me. Maybe she was trying to rile Michael up?

Heather had acted pretty weird when Reverie appeared. But she’s a girl. They always act weird. And I rarely understand them and their motives. Look at Krista. Though really she’s a terrible example because that girl is flat out crazy.

“Are you sure? Gosh, I feel stupid for asking. And insecure. You must think I’m overreacting, which I probably am.” Reverie’s voice softens even more until she’s practically whispering. “I just…after last night…I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “I thought…”

“You thought what?” I encourage when she stops talking. I’m dying to know what she was going to say.

“I thought you...” She presses her lips together and shakes her head again. Closes her eyes for the briefest moment before she pops them open. She’s struggling with something and I wish I knew what. “Never mind.”

I step close. Closer. And she doesn’t back up. I’m invading her space, I can smell her, feel the heat radiate off her body and mine reacts. My skin tightens and I break out in a sweat. I take her hand and entwine my fingers with hers, notice that they’re trembling. She doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even seem to be breathing and I realize I’m holding my breath too.

Letting out a ragged exhale, I wonder what the hell is happening between us. The air is charged, heavy with unspoken declarations. I shouldn’t push her. She’s innocent. Sweet and virginal and sheltered. But I want to know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. I can only hope it’s about me. “Say it,” I murmur, needing to hear her confession.

It won’t mean anything though, what she’s going to say. It can’t. Not really. We’re the last two people who should be interested in each other.

“I like you. And I thought you liked me.” The words come out in a rush and she closes her eyes again, her expression pained. “Stupid right?”

My heart speeds up as relief floods me. She likes me. “Not stupid,” I murmur, dipping my head, my lips so close to hers that I…

Go for it.

And I kiss her.

It’s light. A kiss but not a kiss at all because I barely feel her lips. But I know from that one singular moment when my lips touched hers that they are soft. And warm.

And perfect.

A shaky breath escapes her, I feel it waft across my face and her eyes crack open when I withdraw from her. She’s staring at me with a horrified expression. Looking scared out of her ever-loving mind. Not the look I want a girl to wear after I kiss her for the first time.

She touches her mouth with her free hand, her fingers shaking when they brush against her lips. Without a word she releases her grip on my hand, turns around.

And runs.

12

Dear Diary,

(July 4th, 11:32 p.m.) I did the dumbest thing ever. EVER. I got jealous when I saw Nick standing there talking to Mom’s assistant. That girl doesn’t like me. Heather. The minute she saw me approach, she got all friendly like with Nick. Then Michael.

And I got jealous. Not over Michael but over Nick.

He belongs to me.

I was mad. Feeling dumb. Feeling like a little girl who doesn’t know how to keep a guy’s interest, which is sort of true. I wanted to leave so I did but Nick chased after me.

Again.

I let him catch me. I let him talk to me, take my hand and connect us. He…

Oh my God, I can barely type this. When I look back at this diary years from now I know I’m going to want to slap myself for what I did but here it goes:

*deep breath*

He kissed me. My first kiss. Ever in my life from the one boy I wanted it to be from. It was nothing and everything all at once. A mere touch of his lips upon mine. They were firm and soft. How can lips be firm AND soft? His are. I told him that I liked him (ack). That I thought he liked me (I still can’t believe I said that) and then he kissed me.

How I wish I could relive that moment and do things differently. I should’ve touched him. His face. His hair. I should’ve grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him to me but I’m not brave enough. What if I did something wrong? What if that kiss had somehow been an…accident?

I want to roll my eyes at myself. How can a kiss be an accident? I’m looking for any excuse to tell myself I’m not worthy. I might’ve proved myself unworthy because of what I did next though.