Page 41 of Even After This
A small smile tugs at his mouth. “It’s ‘later,’” he says just before he brushes his lips against mine.
My breath catches, and I clutch the fabric at his waist.
When the kiss ends, he pulls back just a touch, waiting. Watching.
I stand on tiptoe and wrap my arms around his neck. In a quiet voice, I ask, “Can it be ‘later’ again?”
I barely see his grin before he kisses me. For several “laters.”
10
I kissed a boy.
Claire
WHAT??? What in the world happened?! You’re in Colorado!
I smile goofily into the phone. My childhood best friend is definitely the right person to tell.
I know.
I need details. Now.
Don’t hate me, but I can’t go into it right now.
Partly because I’m about to meet Sally. Partly because the screen on my phone has decided to act like a rebellious teenager and only work when it wants to. Composing a coherent text now takes several tries.
This is the meanest thing you’ve ever done to me, and that’s saying something since you tied my shoelaces together in the third grade.
I know. I love you.
I’m proud of you. I hope you get to kiss him again.
Claire was the first person I told when I kissed Mickey Ranger on the playground during recess in the fifth grade. She was my first phone call after the post-homecoming kiss Eddie Watson gave me our freshman year. Not one heartbreak has passed in my life without Claire to ground me. It just feels right that I’d text her about my first kiss as a widow. Only...
I didn’t feel like a widow.
What did you feel like?
I don’t have to think before I type my answer.
A woman.
A beautiful, desired woman.
You’re torturing me. You can’t give me any details?
No. I love you.
Ten minutes later, Sally sits in the passenger seat of Harlan’s Jeep, looking at me with wide, astonished eyes. Even if she wants to comment on my music choice, the reverberating sounds of Rush fill the space to capacity. Harlan had to work today but let me borrow his SUV. I’m hoping I don’t blow out the speakers.
A few blocks later, I brake at a stoplight, turn the volume down, and grin at Sally.
“What is wrong with you?” she asks through giggles.
“What?” I pull my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose and wink. “Tell me you don’t feel better with this song vibrating through your body.”
Her shoulders bounce up and down with her laughter. “Okay. I might feel a little better.”
