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I stare up at him, wanting him to believe me. My heart stutters in my chest. Whatever is going on here, it feels important.

He closes his eyes and drops his head down so that it rests on mine. His arms tighten around me, and I figure if a person could die from happiness I might right now. I might be a fool, and I’m pretty sure Jules will be the first one to tell me that, but I don’t think I care. Right now, all that matters is Gavin and how he makes me feel.

“Why does your mom call you Moonbeam?”

“You heard that,” I whisper, smiling as we move together, and I settle my head back against his chest.

“Yeah.”

“That’s embarrassing,” I admit, and I can feel myself blushing.

“It’s sweet. I liked it.”

“When I was little, I used to beg her to read to me and my favorite book was Goodnight Moon. When I was sick, hearing Mom read that to me always made me feel better, no matter what.”

“Goodnight Moon?”

“It’s this silly children’s book, but I just loved the way Mom sounded when she read it to me. It always made me feel… safe.”

“That’s good to have,” he says, and his voice sounds funny. I remember what Atticus said about his father, and I can’t imagine the way that Gavin and Attie were forced to grow up. I squeeze Gavin a little tighter. I don’t say anything, because I know he wouldn’t want my pity and that’s not what it is really. I only hate that he has such a hard time. I hate that’s what his life is like at home. It has to hurt him. Maybe after what he did to me, I shouldn’t feel for him… but I do.

“It is. Anyways when I was like ten, Mom had a breast cancer scare,” I confide in him, understating what actually happened. “I actually don’t talk or remember a lot about it. I don’t like to think of my mother as sick. I can’t imagine a world without her in it.”

“I get that.”

“One day I came home from school early and Mom wasn’t waiting on the porch like she normally did. I found her in her bedroom, lying on the bed crying. She was holding this large lock of her hair.” My voice catches as I relive the memory. It’s been years, but I can still see the vision of my mom holding her hair like that and crying as if it were yesterday.

“Damn, Baby,” he murmurs into my hair and despite my sadness, I smile.

“I went into my room, grabbed the book off my shelf, and I took it in there to read the story to her because I wanted her to feel safe too. When I told her why, she said it did make her feel better. Mom said I was her very own personal moonbeam. It just kind of stuck after that.”

Gavin doesn’t say anything and I’m starting to feel self-conscious, when he pulls back and looks at me.

“I’ve never met anyone like you in my life,” he whispers and before I know what to say or how to react, he bends down, and he kisses me.

My very first kiss.

I don’t know what I expected. You build fantasies up in your mind and you plan for them to be perfect. I’m old enough to know that things never live up to your expectations. But, this kiss does. It’s awkward but sweet at first. I have no idea what I’m doing and I let him lead me. His tongue seeks mine out and slides against it. Shyly, I imitate the same movement, not wanting to disappoint him. There’s a scent to our kiss, an aroma that I wasn’t expecting. I thought kisses would be about touching and feeling. While it is, it’s also more. There’s an earthy scent that feels just a little wicked and as I moan into his mouth the kiss deepens. Those feelings of desire multiply and my body feels as if it’s floating in pleasure. It’s surreal that my first kiss was with Gavin Lodge. I’d given up that dream, but it happened and…

It was perfect.

Chapter Sixteen

Gavin

“Hey.”

“Gavin,” Luna purrs my name into the phone, and I hear the pleasure in her voice. She likes that I called, and she doesn’t try to hide it. That does something to me that I can’t explain, I just know I like it. Luna’s the first person in my life who has wanted me around. The first person to make me feel like I matter.

“Hey, Moonbeam,” I respond, and I can hear her giggle and it makes me smile.

“I didn’t think you’d call me.”

“I told you I was going to make sure you made it home okay.”

“I know, but you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Thanks for dancing with me tonight,” I tell her, and she has no idea how much the memory of her in my arms means to me.

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