My heart beats so fast and loud, I swear he can hear it.
“Or you,” he adds.
That pull towards him grows so strong, I’m overwhelmed by an intense need to close any distance, and knock down any barrier that ever stood between us. I need every part of him, and I need him to know he has me too.
Because I never let go of him either. And I never will.
Suddenly, I give in to the pull, and the next thing I know… my lips are on his.
I barely have time to catch up to my own thoughts as my body moves on its own, my hand sliding from beneath his chin to the side of his face, and the contact of his lips against mine sends a surge through me so powerful, it’s like something inside my chest has finally opened. My mind is completely quiet as I just let this feeling take over, and the rest of the world fades into the background as my only focus is the feeling of my lips and tongue moving against his.
But as I lean further into it, and his tongue slides against mine, realization begins to settle.
I’m kissing Silas.
And he’s kissing me.
Just as that awareness grows, a hand lands heavy on my chest and pushes me back.
Fuck.
Oh my god.
Silas stares at me with wide eyes, and I stare right back at him.
What the fuck just happened?
Oh my god.
Did I really just fucking do that?
“Uh…” I start, lifting a hand to run my fingers through my hair as Silas pushes to his feet.
“What the fuck?” Silas asks, staring down at me with panic written all over his face as he takes a step back from me, and Winston looks between us in confusion.
I push to my feet as well, shaking my head as my heart riots and my mind struggles to produce a single coherent thought. “I don’t know. I don’t…. I don’t know.” The words feel useless the second they leave my mouth, yet they are the only ones I have.
We stand on the porch in stunned silence, staring at each other in complete shock.
I kissed him.
And he kissed me back.
My gaze drops to the report and the drawing of Redwave, and pieces of this moment start coming together.
It was just a result of all the emotion. Of being close to him again, feeling like how it used to be, and moving past everything that held us back.
But I’m only lying to myself if I stop there.
Because it’s also the fact that somewhere along the way I realized I’m attracted to him. And that I liked that kiss.
And I would do it again.
But I can’t say that right now. I barely understand what the hell is happening inside my own head, and the last thing I wantto do is dump all of this confusion onto my best friend, who just let me back into his life and trusted me with something as raw as the pain sitting in that drawing and his traumatic history he just uncovered.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Confusion flickers across his face, and I try to force my thoughts to sort themselves out enough for me to explain this all somehow.
