Will he lean down and kiss me, allowing me to feel the press of his lips and inhale his soul?
Will I kiss him back and see just what lies between us?
In this moment, I want to kiss him. I want to feel the press of his lips, his body.
He leans into me, allowing me to feel the slight hint of his weight as it presses down on me, his lips hovering above mine.
I close my eyes. He exhales, and I know on the next inhale, he will kiss me.
“Wren?” Ms. Aberdeen breaks the silence and slashes through the tension building between us. “Are you in here, Wren?”
Ugh!
I turn my head, breaking the spell, though Arlo doesn’t move, resting his face in the crook of my neck. “Yeah! I’ll be right there.”
She mutters something a moment before her footsteps fade down the hall. All the breath leaves my lungs and dizziness washes through me, while unspent adrenaline demands I jog.
I never jog, but at this moment, I want nothing more than to run this off.
Ever so slowly, Arlo stands, drawing me up with him. “I better go.” Grabbing his book, he looks at me as though he’s about to say something else, though he doesn’t. Tipping his head, he leaves.
Arlo Larson almost just kissed me, and more surprisingly, I wanted him to. Instead, I’m watching his back as he departs.
He forgot to check out that book.
CHAPTER 15
Hours later,after going through every moment between Arlo and me in my head and dissecting it like a pro, I pace the foyer of the B&B, waiting for the girls.
Lark made fun of me when I stopped in at the bakery and grabbed sweet rolls, then again when I backtracked to the grocer to grab a few bottles of wine…not to mention walking out and then walking right back in for ice cream for the sweet rolls.
I feel like I’m back in high school, waiting around for the popular girls to notice me. News flash, they never did. Except after the conversation with Autumn this morning, I found myself hopeful, and now I feel foolish.
Lark and Saffron ate and now sit in the parlor, consuming the other package of sweet rolls I grabbed just for them. Arlo sits beside them with his nose in a book, and that makes me feel even weirder.
Why is this so hard?
“Stop pacing,” Arlo growls from the other room, and of course, my legs chill out. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”
Movement catches my eye outside the window, and Autumn crashes through the door with a dimpled smile and anotherbottle of wine. She tosses a bag at the foot of the steps, nodding when it sounds like something shatters in there.
“Refreshments!” she mock slurs before stumbling to the other room, peeking in at her brother for a moment before continuing on.
Maybe she’s already drunk. The bottle looks unopened.
As I’m about to shut the door, Bloom walks in with a smile on her face. Before I know it, I find myself wrapped up in her arms as she squeezes me in a death hug that smells like a floral bouquet. Pulling back, she squeals in hysteria.
“I’m so excited.” She tosses a bag down beside Autumn’s. “I haven’t done this since I was in grade school.” She bounces down the hall.
“A kid free night!” Paris stumbles through the door with an open wine bottle in her hand as she salutes me. She looks a little less like a hot mess today as she saunters in, wearing bright red, heart-shaped sunglasses and a thousand-watt smile. She has a Minion bookbag on her shoulder and a jean jacket on her curvy frame.
“Where is your little guy?” I shut the door, wondering where the last of the squad is.
“With my mother.” She sighs in peace the way only a single mom can. I understand that feeling all too well, only I wasn’t in love with my baby daddy and Lark was a well-behaved child. She slept through the night from day one and didn’t fuss too often. I don’t know what her son is like. “I’m going to go get a cup for this with some ice.” She sways down the hall to a tune that plays in her head.
A moment later, the door opens again, and this time, the red-haired goddess walks in, her white shirt tucked into a pair of high-waisted jeans and a long coat.
“Wren.” She kisses my cheeks before setting her own bag down on the steps, her heels clacking on the hardwood. “Whatan incredible idea.” Her eyes light up as she walks past the parlor. “Lark,” she gushes. “I love your hair.”
