A Thousand Boy Kisses(46)

Poppy’s head drifted slowly forward. She glanced back at me over her shoulder and rewarded me with the most devastating smile. I looked at the girl I loved most like it was the very last time I would see her, and it made me feel alive.

It made me feel like the most blessed person on the planet, because I had her. Even though, right now, things were still awkward and fresh, I knew I had her.

And she definitely had me.

My legs stood up of their own accord, discarding the blanket onto the grassy floor of the grove. Slowly, I walked to Poppy, drinking in every part of her.

Poppy watched me approach. As I stood in front of her, she ducked her head, a flush of embarrassment traveling up her neck to rest upon the apples of her cheeks.

As the wind wrapped around us, she asked, “Do you feel it, Rune? Truly?”

I knew she was referring to the wind on my face and the sun’s rays shining down.

Alive.

Vibrant.

I nodded, replying to a completely different question. “I feel it, Poppymin. Truly.”

And it was at that moment that something inside of me shifted. I couldn’t think of the fact she only had months to live.

I had to focus on the moment.

I had to help her feel as alive as possible, while I had her back by my side.

I had to win back her trust. Her soul. Her love.

Poppy stepped closer to me, running her hand down my bare arm. “You’re cold,” she announced.

I didn’t care if I was suffering from hypothermia. Pushing my hand to the nape of her neck, I leaned in, watching her face for a sign this move wasn’t wanted. Her green eyes flared, but it wasn’t in resistance.

Spurred on, seeing her lips part and her eyes flutter to a close, I tipped my head to the side, bypassing her mouth, to run the tip of my nose down her cheek. Poppy gasped, but I kept going. Kept going until I reached the pulse in her neck; it was racing.

Her skin was warm from dancing in the wind, yet shivering at the same time. I knew it was because of me.

Closing in the rest of the way, I pressed my lips over her galloping pulse, tasting her sweetness, feeling my own heartbeat race in tandem.

Alive.

Life being so truly and completely lived.

A soft whimper escaped Poppy’s lips and I drew back, gradually meeting her gaze. Her green irises were bright, her lips pink and full. Dropping my hand, I stepped back and said, “Let’s go. You need sleep.”

Poppy looked adorably bewildered. I left her on that spot as I gathered our things. When I finished, I found her exactly where I had left her.

I flicked my head in the direction of our houses: Poppy walked beside me. With each step, I mulled over the last twelve hours. About the rollercoaster of emotions, about the fact that I’d got half my heart back, only to discover it was temporary. I thought about kissing Poppy’s face, about lying in bed beside her.

Then I thought about her jar. The half-empty jar of a thousand boy-kisses. For some reason that flash of blank paper hearts bothered me the most. Poppy loved that jar. It was a challenge set by her mamaw. A challenge blunted by my two-year absence.

I flicked a look to Poppy, who was staring at a bird in a tree, smiling as it sang from the topmost branch. Feeling my stare, she turned to me and I asked, “You still like adventures?”

Poppy’s ear-splitting grin immediately answered that question. “Yes,” she replied, “Lately, every day is an adventure.” She lowered her eyes. “I know the next few months will be an interesting challenge, but I’m ready to embrace it. I’m trying to live every day to the fullest.”

Ignoring the pain this remark ignited in me, a plan formed in my mind. Poppy stopped; we had reached the patch of grass between our homes.

Poppy turned to me as we stood in front of her window. And she waited, waiting for what I’d do next. Inching closer to where she stood, I placed the bag and blanket on the ground and straightened up, hands by my sides.

“So?” Poppy asked, a tinge of humor in her voice.

“So,” I replied. I couldn’t keep from smiling at the twinkle in her eyes. “Look, Poppy,” I started, and rocked on my feet, “you believe you don’t know the guy I am now.” I shrugged. “So, give me a chance. Let me show you. Let’s start a new adventure.”

I felt my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, but Poppy suddenly took hold of my hand and placed it in hers. Bemused, I stared at our hands, then Poppy shook them up and down twice. With the biggest smile on her face, her dimples deep and proud, she declared, “I’m Poppy Litchfield and you’re Rune Kristiansen. This is a handshake. My mamaw told me it’s what you do when you don’t know somebody. Now we’re friends. Best friends.”

Poppy looked up at me through her lashes and I laughed. I laughed as I recalled the day I met her. When we were five, and I saw her climb through her window, blue dress covered in mud and a big white bow in her hair.

Poppy moved to take back her hand, but I held on tightly. “Go out with me tonight.”

Poppy stilled.

“On a date,” I continued awkwardly. “A real date.”

Poppy shook her head in disbelief. “We never really went on a date before, Rune. We always just … were.”

“Then we’ll start now. I’ll pick you up at six. Be ready.”

I turned and headed for my window, assuming that her answer was yes. Truth was, no way was I giving her a chance to say no. I was going to do this for her.