Her brow furrowed.
I fingered a lock of her hair, almost unable to speak the words, “His name is Blue Bishop.”
Her head cocked to one side, a wistfulness in her eyes.
I propped up on my elbow, looking down at her. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”
She didn’t say yes. But she didn’t say no either. Her dark eyes anchored to mine. “Blue.”
I leaned down, taking a massive chance. My lips were light against hers, testing the waters. She stiffened. Crap. I leaned away, trying to gauge her reaction. We stared at each other for three heartbeats, the air crackling between us.
Her stare burned into me. Fierce determination crossed her face just before she slid her fingers into the back of my hair and pulled my mouth against hers. I melted into her, and a calming wave rippled from my chest to my fingertips. The taste of peaches exploded on my tongue. Her hands curved up around the base of my neck and it sent electricity down my spine. My hands slid around her back, pulling her closer, her chest tight against mine. My blood heated, and all the things we could do right here, on this bed, did cross my mind. I had to be careful with her. It was a struggle every time we kissed. The feelings were always so intense. Then and now.
I rolled her onto her back, our tongues finding each other. She let out a little whimper but then tugged on my hair, pulling me closer. My mouth on hers felt familiar and brand new at the same time. Like I was finally where I belonged and like I’d never left.
Five minutes later—or maybe thirty-five, who really knew—her warm, gentle fingertips were at the back of my waist, tracing the skin right under the hem of my shirt. Heat was spreading, climbing higher, lower, deeper inside of me.
I pushed up and stared down into her eyes. “We’re still waiting until we’re married?” This is how it always went. I’d ask, hoping the answer would be different this time. Always hoping. She’d giggle and tell me yes, we were waiting. Then we’d go right back to kissing.
But that’s not what happened now.
Her body tensed under me. She turned her head to the side and her hands fell from my back.
“What?” I gently turned her face and pecked her on the mouth, trying to defibrillate the kiss. But she just lay there, rigid and motionless. I looked down into her nervous eyes. “Did I say something wrong?”
She struggled to slither away. I rolled off and turned on my side, my face hot, though I wasn’t sure why.
She started to get up off the bed, but I hooked a hand around her waist. “Hey.” Everything paused, hovered. Whatever she was holding back felt big enough to crack us in two. “Just tell me what I did.”
She glanced over her shoulder at me, pain in her expression. “Yeah. We were going to wait.” I held my breath, waiting for her next words. I already knew they were going to hurt. “But I don’t think you did.”
The words hit me in the center of my chest, crushing my lungs.
No.I wouldn’t do that with anyone but her. We were saving ourselves for each other.
But the hurt in her eyes said I had.
I fell onto my back, staring at the ceiling, horrified. “If we haven’t spoken in four years, how do you know that?”
She lay back on the pillow but her arms were hugging her stomach. She stared up at the ceiling too, her chest rising and falling in the silence. “She was your high school girlfriend. You went to UK together. One time I ran into your mom at Food Lion and she told me you were…living together.” Her eyes closed on those two words.
“No.” I shook my head, my heart splintering into a million pieces. “Youwere my high school girlfriend. I wouldn’t have done that. You’re confused.” But I knew it was true. You can’t fake the depth of betrayal that was in every line of her face, the clench of her fists, the way it looked like it hurt to breathe.
It felt like I’d cheated on her. Like I’d cheated on myself.
A tear slid out of her left eye and ran down into her hairline. She wiped it away. Then she sat up, reached over, and grabbed her phone off the table next to the hospital bed. She tapped a few times and then handed it to me.
Suddenly I was looking at myself, on my Instagram feed, with some blond girl who clearly had a tanning bed in her house. Because nobody was that tan without sleeping in one all night, every night. Like a reverse vampire, super-powered by UV rays. She was pretty but nowhere near Anna level. The look on her face, her smile…it all saidsmug. The kind of girl who asks, pounds, throws a fit for a new outfit, new phone, a Jeep, until her parents give in.
No way would I have been satisfied by her after being with Anna. And yet, the proof was there right in my face. Standing on a deck with sand, waves, and a magnificent sunset behind us. She and I were in swimsuits. Hers was a barely there bikini. Mine a pair of board shorts slung perilously low on my hips. Her hand was resting at the edge of the waistband, way lower than Anna ever would’ve put her hand.
It felt like someone punched me in the stomach. Only that someone was me.
Anna swung her legs off the bed and scooted forward, her elbows on her thighs. “I think her name is Lacy.”
“Anna.” I bent my knee into the bed, reaching for her.
She stood and moved away. “I think…I think I’m gonna have Ford pick me up. It’d be good if I slept at the hotel tonight. You’ll probably get better rest?—”
