But he’d stayed exactly where he was. He didn’t move in. He didn’t press his lips against mine. He just stared, like a deer caught in headlights. The moment became awkward. He didn’t inch closer.
And I realized his heart wasn’t beating a million times a minute in his chest like mine was. He wasn’t dreaming of licking his tongue along the seam of my lips like I was his. He wasn’t imagining ripping my clothes off and tossing them to the floor, then pinning me to his childhood twin bed where we had our books spread out, studying.
Eventually, embarrassed, I’d finally pulled away and said it was time for me to go home.
No, I wouldn’t feel his lips that night. Not until the night before I was about to leave, when I said fuck it, drove my bike over to his house the second I heard about Tim, and flung myself into his arms.
He’d held me so close and buried his face in my neck. His whole body shook. I knew without him even saying anything that this was the first time he’d been allowed to even show his real feelings in that cold house of his. That his mother may have been in hysterics over losing her favorite child to such a cruel accident but that Rafe would be the strong, stoic one.
Until he was in my arms. Still, he didn’t cry. He just shook and blamed it on the rain. It hadn’t been raining hard that night until then, but the whole town figured that was why Timothy had gotten in the accident. Driving too fast on a notoriously slippery curve, his car had plunged over the guard rail and into the ditch below. Timothy hadn’t had a seatbelt on and had ended up thrown ten feet from the car. That was the extent of the town gossip I’d heard before I’d raced over.
Rafe hadn’t told me any more, he’d just held tight to me like I was a life raft and he’d sink without me.
And then, for one moment of insanity while the rain poured and the storm thundered overhead, he slammed his lips on mine.
He’d kissed me. After all that time, he wanted me. I’d thrown my arms around him and kissed him back with everything I had. I wanted to take his pain away, to take it into myself, to kiss him into oblivion so he might just have one second’s relief from the grief that was obviously tearing him apart.
But he’d only allowed it for about twenty glorious seconds. For twenty seconds, we lost ourselves in another world. One of lips and hands and touch and skin and tongues tangling and the most perfect madness I’d ever tasted.
And then—
And then he’d ripped himself away from me, swore loudly, stumbled backwards, and ran back into the house without even a backwards glance at me.
That was the last I ever saw of Rafe Jackson. He never said another word to me until that cocktail party a month ago.
When I’d tried to come by to say goodbye before I left for boarding school, his mother had coldly informed me he didn’t want to see me but that he’d said to tell me congratulations on the new school and good luck.
And the rest, well, now I suppose it was all ancient history.
Except now, even in the cold of the lake, I could still feel the delightful sting from the way his cock had stretched me during the Trial.
If he’d been indifferent then, what about now?
“What emails, Fallon? What are you talking about?”
He started wading towards me but my heart had had enough. The venture down memory lane plus the blue haint Trial had been enough. My brittle little heart couldn’t take much more. If it broke one more time, I wasn’t sure there’d be enough superglue in the world to put it back together again.
“Nothing,” I said, “it doesn’t matter.” Then I splashed him in the face as he came closer.
He still looked confused, but another look came over his face, one I was far more familiar with. It was mischievous, full of intent.
Then he disappeared beneath the water, and just like when we were younger, I felt his arms wrap around my legs. I barely had a second to grab a gulp of air before he pulled me under.
Oh, now this was war. I came back up, sputtering for air. “Rafe, God, I wasn’t ready. You almost drowned me!” I shouted.
He backed away and swore. “Sorry, I thought you’d—”
But I was just fucking with him, trying to get him off-kilter. It worked. He was completely unprepared for when I launched myself at him and dunked him.
Then I screeched, giggling as he scooped my legs again, this time tossing me over his shoulder.
“Rafe!” I screeched, laughing hard. “What are you— Put me down!”