Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(35)

Eva had plans to sleep at a friend’s on Saturday night and would be going to church with her friend’s family the following day. So Lily and I spent Sunday morning together. The weather for late November had been unseasonably warm lately, so Lily suggested we go for a walk at a nearby state park.

With my hand locked around hers, I guided her through the paths in the woods slowly, impressing her with some of the dorky facts I still remembered from Boy Scouts twenty years ago. Or maybe she was more just pretending to be impressed. It made me feel good either way.

Eventually, the woods opened to an expansive field full of tall feather reed grass that came to just above our knees. I gazed at Lily as she made her way toward the middle of the field and looked up to the sky. “You look beautiful,” I said, as the warm sun caressed her face and brought out the subtle highlights in her hair.

A goofy expression came over her as she glanced down, tugging at her cream colored North Face jacket and motioning to her jeans and sneakers. “In this?” she asked.

I noticed, for the first time, a kind of humble shyness in her. She had no idea just how gorgeous she really was. “Not what you’re wearing,” I said, stepping toward her until I was close enough to stroke the smooth skin on her cheek with my thumb. “You.”

The need to kiss her—really kiss her—had been unbearable in that moment. It was as if a physical pull was guiding our mouths to each other. I hesitated a moment before allowing my desire to dictate my actions. But once it did, I lost the restraint I’d fought so hard to maintain with her. And as our lips touched, that pull I’d felt seconds before had already grown stronger, urging our eager tongues to collide with one another. We lost ourselves as I licked the inside of her mouth until the taste of sweet mint and her mango flavored lip gloss coated my own lips.

It seemed as if one kiss had brought us back in time to months ago, when our passion and need for each other had gone well beyond a physical one. I could tell Lily felt it too as her fingertips scratched my back through my sweatshirt, pulling me closer.

But before we could take the kiss any further, I broke it, pulling away slowly, my teeth tugging at her bottom lip before letting go. I stroked the small of her back and cradled her head in my hand, our foreheads touching and our mouths only millimeters apart.

A passionate moment had been only that: a moment. And the brevity of our intimate encounter could only be attributed to my own insecurities.

***

I spent much of the next few days attempting to ignore my growing feelings for her. I’d been the one who’d wanted to take things slowly. But that kiss had given way to emotions I would rather have left untouched. I couldn’t get a handle on myself and my feelings. Part of me was like a horny teenager excited just to be around her. And another part was a crotchety old bastard who’d been burned by the love of his life and was royally pissed about it. The worst of it was that I felt like a total *. I didn’t want to be the guy who got involved with some chick who had already proven herself to be untrustworthy. If she could do that bullshit to me once, she could do it again. But . . . “Fuck,” I growled as I banged my palm on the steering wheel.

Thinking these things did nothing to help my mood, and sitting in traffic on the Schuylkill Expressway on Thanksgiving Eve wasn't making it any better. I looked at the clock on my dashboard. My fifteen year reunion would be starting in twenty minutes, and I was stuck on the goddamn highway. Of all nights, why did they plan these f*cking things for the most traveled day of the year?

I was on edge and exasperated, but it wasn’t just because of the traffic. I sunk back into my seat a little and tried to examine the “But.” But I didn’t think she’d do it again. I had no idea why I thought that, but I did. I would’ve nearly bet my life that she wouldn’t do it again. Would I have made that same bet seven months ago? I was so sure of my answer, it sent a thrill through my body. No, I wouldn’t have. Because deep down, I knew something was shady. Not wanting it to be true, I ignored my instincts and trusted Lily when I shouldn’t have. But I wasn’t going in blind this time. I had a better grasp on what I wanted out of our relationship now. I wouldn't settle for less than all of her.

However, this brought on a whole list of other concerns, the biggest being that I wasn’t fully sure I wanted all of her. When I was with her, I was consumed by her: enamored by her beauty, captivated by her personality, and desirous of her body. But when we weren’t together, I wasn’t sure that we actually fit all that well together. I could see a life with Lily, but I couldn’t see her in my life. Or maybe it was more that I was afraid that I'd let her back in just to have it all go to hell again. It was all this baffling bullshit that had kept me from really pressing our relationship beyond friends-who-make-out status.

There had been quite a few occasions where it had been impossible to keep from wrapping my arms around her as I stood behind her nuzzling her neck, or grabbing her hand and pulling her to me so that I could feel her chest swell against mine as I grazed her lips softly. But I hadn’t taken it further, and it was killing me. I had jerked off more in the past two weeks than I had in the previous two months. But I didn’t want to be a prick and bang her only to realize that I didn’t want to pursue anything with her. Even though part of me felt like that would serve her right, I didn’t want to sink to that level. I wasn’t an *. And I sure as shit wasn’t going to be a casual f*ck to her like that cocksucker Max Samson had been. God, I f*cking hate that douche.