His hands cup around my cheeks, tilting my face so I’m looking up at him. With his body pressed against mine, Jackson lowers his face slowly, and I think my racing heart has stopped short, or maybe my lungs have stopped working. Either way, I might need resuscitation from the distress he’s causingme.
His mouth hovers over mine, and I inhale a slight scent of cologne, as well as the coffee he must have been drinking—I can taste it, but none of my other senses are working. “You have been making my head spin, and I knew if I didn’t say goodnight last night—” Without giving me a second to understand what he’s saying, his lips connect with mine, his fingers weave through my hair, and I can't feel a thing except for his mouth on mine.What is happening to me?I need air, but I don't want him to stop. My knees feel weak, and I let the weight of my body fall into him. His arms loop around my back, keeping me upright as my head falls against the wooden door. I must be experiencing the true definition of a kiss because every other kiss in my life up until this moment has been nothing in comparison. This is so much more. This is two people sharing something beautiful and passionate, an intensity I didn’t knowexisted.
I don’t know how many minutes I've gone without breathing, feeling, hearing, or seeing, but when our mouths part, a burning tingle remains on the flesh of my lips. I’m at a loss for words, and I’m not sure if I remember how to talk. “Wow, I feel better now,” he says. He takes my hand and pulls me away from the door before placing one last kiss on my cheek. “I might need another cup of coffeenow.”
“Yeah,” I say, sounding a little mindless. “Coffee.”
“I'll let you get back to your reading, but I’m going to hang out in here for a few minutes.” His statement strikes me as odd, and since I’m trying to figure out what he is talking about, I probably seem a little naive as he says, “Sorry, scrubs leave little to the imagination, and I can't leave this room without risking my job.” I assess him, still not understanding until I see what he’s talkingabout.
“Oh!” I gush as if I just figured out the answer to life. “I'm sorry!” I grab the door knob. “Oh my, um—yeah, I ah feel the same way, it's just not as apparent.” Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I just said that. My face must be redder than a firehydrant.
“Lucky you,” he says through laughter. His cheeks are also quite red, and it’s more adorable than funny, but I can't stopgiggling.
“I'll see you a little later. Good luck with—yeah.” I let the door close, and pinch my lips together, savoring the effect of the kiss as I mindlessly make my way back to Grams’s room. Wow. Wow. I need to pretend like I was just talking to Jackson rather than experiencing the best kiss of my entire thirty-one years, but there’s no way to wipe this expression off myface.
I reenter the room and Grams is patiently waiting for me with her hands folded on her lap. An all-too-telling smile is impassively lined across her lips, but she doesn'tanything.
I sit down and pull out her diary, also without saying a word. “You can continue wherever you left off. Don't worry,” shesays.
“You sure?” Iask.
“Yes, oh and sweetie, you have a little smudge of lipstick on your cheek. Here,” she says while reaching over with a tissue, then presses it to my face. Her pursed lips and deep dimples tells me she knows exactly what just happened.Justperfect.
I take a quick minute to regain my composure before opening the book to the page I left off with lastnight.
