“That kid just went for the third time. You’ll survive.”
“My life is in your hands, Dawson.”
He brings his hands back to my waist, gripping it tight. “I think I can handle that.”
If there ever was a time for an epic first kiss, this would be it. Like in any good romance movie, the cameras would pan in slowly, capturing the beauty of the landscape while showcasing the passion and desire in the lovers’ eyes. Lips would part, one last breath would be exchanged before eyes shut.
My tongue darts out, wetting my lips. Heat radiates through me, and my core is so hot, so desperate to feel more, it’s a wonder Logan can’t feel it. I’ve never felt more grounded than I do right now, floating in cool water in front of a waterfall and in Logan’s arms.
My whole life was laid out before me. I was told what to do every step of the way. I never had a chance to break out on my own, and when I did, I messed up. I thought I was lost. I thought I was making mistakes.
I didn’t realize that the map was in my hands the whole time, and I was the one holding the pen, ready to draw a new road. I thought I was lost, but for the last year, I’ve been exactly where I need to be.
Right here, right in front of Logan Dawson.Chapter 17LoganI pride myself on being a rational person. Thinking things through and not taking risks has got me this far in life relatively unscathed. And right now?
Right now I want to kiss Danielle.
I want to hold her close and never let go.
But that’s a risk, isn’t it?
She’s my best friend, has made it clear she’s not interested in dating anyone, and doesn’t even want to stay in Eastwood. Eastwood is my home. All my family is there…yet I’d follow Danielle anywhere.
I lower my gaze from her eyes to her lips, well aware that this might be the single most stupid decision I’ve ever made. But sometimes you have to take risks to reap the reward.
But a million what-ifs go through my mind, and for each one, I can find a logical reason to call bullshit.
What if things are awkward between us? It’s not like they haven’t been before. We’ll get over it.
What if the kiss is bad? There’s no chance in Hell it’s going to be bad.
What if she doesn’t want me to kiss her? All the signs are here: she wants this as much as I do.
That’s it. I’m doing it. It’s now or never. Danielle’s eyes start to close. I inhale and bring my face to hers.
“Excuse me?”
I come to a stop, lips just inches away from Danielle’s.
“Could you take our picture?”
What. The. Fuck.
I open my eyes and turn my head, seeing a young couple holding out a phone.
“We’re celebrating our engagement too,” the girl says, looking away from me and into her girlfriend’s eyes. Too? Oh right. Danielle has that big-ass fake diamond on her finger. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. Everything inside of me is still in motion, set on finally kissing Danielle.
“Yeah,” Danielle says. “Congrats on your engagement.” Her voice is breathy, like she’s feeling the same way I am.
“Thank you,” the girl with short blonde hair squeals. “And you too. I think. You have that look in your eyes, and that ring is stunning!”
Danielle looks back at me, and the lie sits heavy in my stomach. It’s not fun pretending anymore.
“I’m a lucky guy,” I say, forcing myself to play the part I committed to. The lie is hanging on by a thread, and I’m not sure I can do this anymore. Because nothing I’m saying feels like a lie.
I am in love with Danielle. Having her this close yet so far hurts more than I ever thought it could.
“I’m the lucky one,” Danielle goes on, flashing a smile. How is this easy for her? Maybe she doesn’t feel the same like I hoped. She takes the phone and snaps a few photos for the newly engaged couple. They take their phone back and walk out of the water.
“So, the rope swing,” I start, looking from Danielle to the rope. “You want to try it?”
“I still think I’m going to get hurt.”
“I’ll help you.”
She wraps her arms around my neck again, pulling herself close. Her breasts press up against my chest, and I can feel her pert nipples through the thin padding on her swimsuit.
This woman is going to kill me.
“I’m a little scared of heights.”
“It’s not that high,” I counter. “I’ll go first. Prove to you that if I can do it—and that six-year-old over there—then you can do it.”
“That kid is at least twelve.” She releases me and falls back into the water, floating on her back. “And yes, let’s try this. But if I die, I’m haunting you for the rest of your life.”