“It’s almost time,” he whispers.
We open our eyes widely, lying down on the blanket that now has sand scattered over it.
Then, we wait. For something, anything to happen.
When the distant and passing lights spread across the luminous sky, I realize that so many of us spend our entire lives collecting “beautiful things” when the really beautiful things are those we cannot possess.
Now that I’m watching something that’s literally out of this world, the words Haze said to me on the rooftop haunt my thoughts. He’s right. The house you live in, the car you drive, and the clothes you wear do not fill you with peace when you’re lying in a hospital bed.
Little moments like this do.
I’m ripped away from my thoughts when I feel a warm hand on mine.
Haze’s hand.
I know I should move away, tell him to stop, do something. But I can’t. And I won’t. I turn my head instinctively. He’s staring at me. He rolls over to his side to face me. He should be looking at the meteor shower.
“You’re missing the best part,” I murmur.
He smiles, as well, and slowly leans in. My heart jolts against my rib cage. He’s close. Too close.
His gaze lands on my lips, and just like it was in the bathroom a week ago, the tension in the air’s so thick that I could cut it with a knife. Barely an inch separates us at this point.
“That’s not the best part, Kingston.”
He lays a hand on my cheek and slowly brushes my lower lip with his thumb. A million shivers scamper down my body as I close my eyes at the touch, my instincts taking over.
Then, he whispers something that makes my thoughts spiral out of control.
“This is.”
Our lips collide and the oxygen runs away from my lungs. His kisses are gentle at first, like he’s giving me a chance to reject him or push him away. But I don’t. I can feel that he’s holding back as he slowly caresses my lips with his. It’s driving me insane, and before I know it, I’m kissing him back. Right away, I feel him smiling. He buries his fingers in my hair and deepens the kiss. I’ve never known anything like this. I’ve never known anything like him. It’s like we both refuse to let go because if we do, we’ll be brought back to reality. Back to this world where we know we don’t stand a chance.
That’s when the truth catches up to us.
His phone rings.
When he pulls away, the castle bursts into flames, the carriage turns back into a pumpkin, and the glass slipper breaks into a million pieces.
The fairy tale crashes, and my heart does, too.
He looks at me regretfully, curses under his breath, and picks up the phone. I sit up straight and stare at the sea with empty eyes. I just kissed my cousin’s enemy. The ultimate player. Technically, he kissed me. But I kissed him back. It’s obvious now that I’ve been lying to myself. There is no going back.
I like Haze Adams.
“YEAH, I GET THAT. I HEARD you the first time.” Haze sighs, the irritation in his tone growing.
I’m not sure who he’s talking to, but my guess is his brother. The argument only serves as an open door for numerous unpleasant memories to come bursting back into my mind. Might as well put up a sign that says “Room available for guilt, second thoughts, and doubts in Winter’s head. Limited time only.”
I kissed a guy whose brother violently attacked me.
“I said I got it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hangs up, letting his phone hit the ground. The bulging vein in his neck catches my eyes, making me wonder how he manages to look this good even when he’s angry.
I don’t know what to say. Or how to act. Do we just carry on like nothing happened? Or do we acknowledge that we just kissed?
A lot?
All I know is it can’t happen again. No matter how much of a good kisser he is. I lower my gaze to his lips and ignore the desire bursting in a deep, unexplored place in my belly.