Page 104 of Rough

“Now, summarize the entire kissing experience into one word.”

Again, my answer was already at the tip of my tongue. “P-E-R-F-E-C-T. Perfect. It was the perfect kiss.”

“You know.” He raised his index finger. “Sex can be great, yet mean absolutely nothing. But a great kiss? A great kiss can’t be dismissed. A great kiss must be accepted as being exactly what it is.”

I gazed back at him with needy eyes. I wanted more. “And just what is a great kiss?”

“A great kiss is a sign.”

“Of?”

“What’s to come.” He grinned. “A great kiss is a sign of what’s to come.”

“What’s to come?” I asked, eager for more of his wisdom.

“That depends,” he said. “On whether or not you’re willing to open your heart.”

I let his response sink in. After a few moments of thought, I stood and gathered the plates.

As I rinsed the dishes, I decided he was right.

The kiss was a sign.

And, it was time to open my heart.

THIRTY-TWO

Pee Bee

The paint on the inside of the shop was half finished. The solid beige was much more inviting than the mixture of colors it had been there for the last ten years.

I draped my arm over Tegan’s shoulder, and nodded toward the north wall. “Looks good, huh?”

“Looks great.”

The sound of Crip’s bike in the distance gave warning of his approach. “Look alive, Prospects. He’s coming around the corner.”

The two prospects who were assigned to painting duty splattered the paint onto the walls frantically.

Crip pulled into the shop and rolled to a stop beside Peyton’s Jeep. He took off his glasses, gazed at the wall, and then glared at me.

What?

He looked at the wall and shook his head.

With his eyes still fixed on the wall, he let go of his helmet, and before it hit the floor, he kicked it with the toe of his boot.

It slid twenty feet or so before rolling to stop.

Oh shit.

He folded his arms in front of his chest, inhaled a deep breath, and then looked at the north wall. “What color’s that?”

I shrugged. “Beige.”

“Not white?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Beige.”