“Bear,” he whispered.
Normally, Blair Bear was a nickname he reserved for when he wanted under my skin. But this time, it felt special and filled with love. It was us.
“Sorry, I want to help cheer you up, but I don’t know—”
His closed lips pressed to mine. Soft, yet firm, and salty from his tears. I held still, embarrassingly unsure of what to do. Sure, I’d fantasized about kissing him a million times, but the real thing was different. Of course it was. Denny’s lips were perfect. He was perfect.
As quickly as it happened, it stopped.
When he pulled away, I was frozen in place, everything inside me aching to kiss him again. Only I didn’t know how. I’d practiced kissing my hand a lot, learning the techniques descriptively outlined inCosmoGirlmagazine. But in the moment, nothing was happening in my brain, and my entire body was hot, and—oh god—I screwed it up. My eyes shot open, desperate to find his face in the blackness, naively hopeful I’d get some indication about how he was feeling.
Before I had the chance, he flopped backward, head landing on the pillows with a huff. “Can I stay here tonight? I want to be with you.”
With me.
We kissed.
He wants to spend the night.
With me.
Unable to form words, I simply lay down next to him, our shoulders and upper arms touching. I was painfully, zealously consumed by him. And when he rolled to his side—slinging an arm across my stomach and shuffling close enough I could feel his steady, sleepy breath throughout my hair—I stroked a finger across my bottom lip and prayed it wasn’t the last time I’d get to kiss Denver Wells.
Denver
(fifteen years old)
I didn’t expect to fall asleep at Blair’s house. After all, I spent hours tossing and turning in my own bed before saying “fuck it” and grabbing Grandpa’s truck keys from the bowl in the kitchen. I planned to just enjoy her company—even as she slept—because she had a way of making me feel better without trying, and the last thing I wanted was to be alone. But I inhaled the subtle scent of her shampoo, felt the rise and fall of her breath against my chest, and I was a goner. Arguably, the best sleep I’d ever had.
I also didn’t go to her house intending to kiss her. Sure, it was something I had considered doing a number of times. I’d even been close: when she bumped into me coming out of the tack room and her hands fell against my chest, when she leaned her head on my shoulder as she helped me with math homework alone in my bedroom, or when she grabbed my hand as we ran away from Austin after pranking him with a bucket of water on top of a door.
Okay…Maybe subconsciously I went to her house with the intention of kissing her. Because I definitely didn’t hold back the moment I had the opportunity. I dreamt about our kiss all night, then woke up with the worst problem a teenage boy sleeping next to a girl can possibly have, and got the hell out of her house before she woke up.
—
Blair sat on Chief, listening to Mom give critiques about her last run. It was a dreary day—fitting for the day after we learned of Mom’s diagnosis—and a distant thunderstorm rumbled across the ranch. Chief’s ears perked, and both women turned their heads toward the sound, which was conveniently in my direction. Blair’s eyes met mine for a split second, and even from a considerable distance, there was no denying the ruby red hue on her freckled cheeks.
Mom waved before turning to walk back to the house, and Blair trotted toward me…then past me without a word.
Weird.
We kissed and now she was actively avoiding me, and I had no idea why. Granted, I’d only kissed one other girl before, but she didn’t take off running, so I was pretty confident I wasn’t a bad kisser or something.
“Hey, good job out there,” I shouted as I walked around the side of the barn.
“Thanks,” Blair mumbled, pulling Chief’s saddle off.
“How’s Mom doing?”
“Seems fine.”
I reached to take the saddle from her, but she shrugged me off, moving quickly past me.
Oh my God.
It dawned on me that I didn’t waste any time leaving this morning, and I might’ve leftevidencebehind in my panicked, embarrassed state. I pressed my back against the wall with a groan. Of course she was avoiding me. She was probably completely disgusted. Muttering curse words under my breath, I scrubbed a hand across my jaw, and turned to escape the barn before having to face her again.
As luck would have it, Blair stepped out of the tack room and crashed into me. Her chest pressed against mine, hands wrapping around my arms to stop herself from falling over.
