Lindsay’s hand brushes my cheek, wiping away tears I didn’t know I shed. Her body is closer, too. Close enough that her nose is about an inch from mine, and I can feel her warm breath on my chin.
“I can’t even imagine that version of you.” Her eyes are shining, and I’m baffled as to why she’d be on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”
Shouldn’t she be moving away from me? Afraid to get too close after what I just revealed?
Suddenly, her hand moves to the back of my neck, and she’s pulling me in. No, I have to stop this. She still doesn’t know that we’ve met before. She doesn’t know who I am, and more importantly, what I’ve done.
But my body disagrees.Later, it whispers, as my mouth closes the distance. Her lips look so soft, and the memory of the first time I felt them hits me like a sucker punch. Still, I can’t stop. Don’t want to stop, because this is Lindsay, my lioness.
The kiss is gentle at first. Achingly tender, as her lips press against mine. It’s filled with empathy and adoration that I knowI don’t deserve. When I feel her tongue glide along my lower lip, I push away the part of me that wants to do the right thing, and allow myself to get lost in this moment, to keep it for as long as I can.
A moan from deep within my chest rattles out of me as I deepen the kiss, plundering her mouth with my tongue and learning each dip and corner. Her nails bite into my skull as she pulls me closer, and I feel her leg wrap around my hip. I swallow her desperate, needy whimper as my hand travels down her spine.
My cock is pulsing at this point, and I’m as sure as the sky is blue that the front of my pants are wet with precome.
Is it safe to grab her ass?Fuck, I want to. To have her soft cheeks spilling out of my palms would be heaven. But I can’t just grab first and ask later. If this is going to happen, it has to happen the right way. The respectful way.
Then she whispers my name like a prayer, and it’s like a bucket of ice water was dumped over my head. I pull back and instantly regret it. Her eyes are glazed, the pupils blown out, and her lips are swollen from my kiss. My hips protest this move by thrusting forward, and if I gave myself an ounce of leeway, I’d pin her lush body beneath mine and fuck her straight through the mattress.
I can’t, though, because when she said my name, it brought me back to that rocky beach, to the tall girl who bandaged my wounds, and to the secret that will remain wedged between us until it’s released.
“Lindsay,” I say, chest heaving, “I need to tell you…we’ve kissed before.”
Chapter 8
LINDSAY
Iblink at him, wondering if I heard him correctly. “We what?”
He swallows and rubs a hand down his face. “We met…a long time ago, when we were kids. I was sixteen, you were fourteen, and we kissed.”
The world starts to spin as I process his words. Scanning my memories, I know I kissed three boys when I was fourteen. One of them was Max Gebler, a kid in my math class who had braces and his breath always smelled like Mountain Dew. I also kissed Jared Dutton at the spring dance when he bought me a carnation and told me I had pretty eyes. The other kiss, myfirstkiss, was a boy who didn’t go to my school. I met him during the summer when his brother was trying to push him into the lake. He was short and scrawny and kind. A Southern twang rings in my ears as I recall the details of that day. His name was… “Nic?”
He nods, his expression somber. “That was me.”
Part of me can’t believe this is true, despite the itchy sensation at the edge of my consciousness telling me he’s not lying. I need to test him first. “If that was you, who else was on the beach with you?”
“My brother, Kenny, and his friend, Donald. Kenny was trying to drown me, and you stopped him.”
“How did I stop him?”
He smiles, and the warmth of it envelops my body. “You threw sand in Donald’s eyes, then you kicked Kenny in the crotch.” The smile grows into steady, deep laughter. “At some point, you actually roared at them. They hobbled away like two dumb kittens who tried to pick a fight with…” he pauses, his eyes darting between mine, “well, a lioness.”
When I say nothing, his smile dies, and he waits. And waits. And waits.
“What are you thinking?” he finally asks.
Truthfully, I don’t know. I want to be mad at him for not telling me sooner, but when did he realize it was me? Was it yesterday? I’m not surprised I didn’t recognize him, given how different he looks. Does it even matter when he recognized me? Does it actually change anything about this situation?
Granted, I crushed on “Nic” hard for the rest of the summer, and deep into the school year. Having learned only his first name, I had no way of looking for him, so the crush faded, and when he’d cross my mind over the years that followed, I hoped he was happy, wherever he was. Happy and brave enough to stand up for himself.
Knowing that the boy who kissed me with tenderness and didn’t feel threatened by having a girl fight his battles is the man lying beside me isn’t as shocking as perhaps it should be. In many ways, Dominic is the same now as he was then. He’s just as thoughtful as I remember, and still a great listener. He aims to please without being a yes man. And with the way he reported Finn and had him arrested without a second thought to protect me, it’s clear he gained the courage he was lacking back then.
There are a million things I could ask Dominic about why he’s sharing this information with me now, but what comes out is, “Do you prefer being called Nic?”
Relief floods his expression as he lets out a sigh. He brushes some hair off my face and tucks it behind one ear. “Only by you.”
“Did you change your name?”
