Just when I’m about to end the kiss and pull away, Summer keeps me there.
We were walking at the edge of the waves before, tiptoeing over jagged rocks, being careful not to fall, and then suddenly, we dove headfirst into the giant curl of water. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m happy to be submerged.
My hands drift along her cheeks until my fingers dig into the back of her hair, tipping her head up to me, holding her lips to mine. She reacts by moving her hands to my lower back, clinging to my stupid cowboy shirt like she needs it for support or she might fall over.
The passion intensifies and so does every feeling I’ve been suppressing every time I’ve held back my affection because she wasn’t mine to adore. Right now, she feels like she’s mine, and I completely adore her.
Our lips graze and brush, bodies push and pull, and heartbeats pound and stall as the excitement builds between us. It’s like each second the kiss goes on, our knowledge of each other multiplies until I feel like I know what she needs better than any other man out there.
It’s as good as the first kiss in the kitchen but better because we’re both fully aware. We have all the information, and we’re choosing this momenttogether.
There’s a whistle and a catcall from someone in Summer’s family.
And that’s enough to break the spell.
She pulls apart abruptly, eyes glazed over with tears.
“I can’t,” she whispers.
The song ends, and she walks away.
I want to chase after her, but I know she needs a second to wrap her head around what we just did.
Jeff slaps me on the back, leading Anna off the dance floor. “You really went for it with that kiss, didn’t you?”
I lift my brows, offering a fake chuckle. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
And I don’t even regret it.
thirty-three
SUMMER
Headlights shinethrough Caleb’s Bronco windows as we wait for our turn to pull out of the parking lot.
We haven’t spoken since the mistletoe kiss, which was easy to do since it happened fifteen minutes ago, at the end of the dance.
I glance out the window, the awkward silence so thick I can practically taste it.
“Are we going to talk about this?” Caleb finally asks. Apparently, the silence is choking him too.
“I’m a cheater!” I burst, throwing my hands up in the air.
“You are not a cheater.” He rolls his eyes.
“Really”—I flip my head to him—“because I just kissed a man that isn’t my boyfriend.”
“It was an accident.”
“It was not an accident. We both knew what we were doing.”
“No, finding ourselves under the mistletoe was an accident. I followed all of Justin’s rules. I avoided it all night until I couldn’t avoid it any longer.”
“You didn’t follow all of his rules. It should’ve been a peck, but my whole family was there, cheering us on, and I don’t know what happened.”
“I know what happened.”
“You do?” I stare at him expectantly, waiting for him to enlighten me.
