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He grunts, his eyes passing over us curiously. I'm not sure if he buys what I'm saying or not. Wilson Klein can be a hard man to read. Sometimes I just can't tell what he's thinking.
He should have become a professional poker player.
“Are you on the clock?” he asks me. I nod. “Then it's not socializing time. Kelsie, go pack.”
“Dad, I was thinking that maybe this time I could just stay home. I've gone every year, and I'm twenty-one, plenty old enough to hold down the fort.”
“Good thing I'm not asking, then. You're coming.” His phone rings, and he glances down at the screen. “I need to take this.” Mr. Klein walks past us and out to the edge of the road. His back is to us, and the phone is pressed against his ear.
“You really don't want to go?” I ask her.
“Honestly, no. I've gone every year, and each time I end up bored out of my mind. I'll convince him to let me stay here.”
“That's too bad because I'm going. It would have been cool to hang out some, maybe we could have snuck off.”
“Snuck off to do what?” she asks, looking past me at her father.
“Honestly,” I say, smirking. “After that kiss, all I can think about is licking your pussy and making you squeal.”
Kelsie smiles bashfully and shakes her head. “What did I get myself into? Kissing you was a mistake.”
“Maybe. But now it's too late to take it back, and I'm a determined man.”
“All right, talk to you later.” Mr. Klein comes back in the garage. “Brand, let’s get the car off the ramps and finish the tune up.”
Kelsie quietly turns and goes back in the house. She gives me one last look over her shoulder before disappearing inside.
She's wrong about saying our kiss was a mistake. I felt it, and she felt it too. Some might say it's just a simple kiss. Right? Nothing more than two people who just met sharing an insignificant moment.
We don't remember every kiss in our lifetime. We don't remember the moments that are meaningless. We remember the ones that strike us like an electric current. The moments that stand out. The ones we feel in our core.
This is one of those moments. A simple kiss that punched me in the gut. A simple kiss that turned my insides upside down. A simple kiss that zipped through my chest, swept down my arms, and curled around my legs.
This is no mistake, and it certainly wasn’t just a simple kiss.
3
Kelsie
I throw a crumpled sundress into my suitcase with force. It lands on top of the other balled up clothes. I'm angry packing. I'm embarrassed that my father treated me like a child in front of Brand. I'm ticked off that he's making me go to this stupid car show for the twentieth time in my life. And I'm blissfully giddy about the kiss.
Thinking about it gives me butterflies. My stomach twirls and flips, and my throat is dry. I lick my lips and swallow. I can still taste the lemonade from his tongue in my mouth. The bitterness stings my lips and the sweetness drips down my throat.
I press the pads of my fingers against my lips. They're still warm and even a little sticky from the drink. I smile to myself. The kiss was so good I can still feel the weight of his lips on mine.
I wanted more. I didn't want it to end. Of course, my father had to spoil it.
Maybe that's for the best? It's not like I would have let him go any further.
My phone rings on the nightstand. Reaching over, I pick it up and see it's Millie.
“Hey,” I say. “How's it going there, prego?”
“Ugh, I feel like Violet from Willy Wonka. I have to have Hardin roll me around the house.” She giggles.
“Stop. You're not that big yet.”
“I feel that big. I can't wait for the baby to finally come.”
“I bet. Hey, you and Hardin don't have anything going on this weekend, do you?”
“You couldn't get out of it huh?” she asks. I can hear her smile on the other end of the phone. “Your dad wouldn't let you skip the car show?”
Millie knows how much I hate going to these things with my family. I've dragged her along plenty of times over the years so I wouldn't be completely alone. This year is no different. I don't care if she's pregnant. I don't care if she and Hardin are living their cozy little life.
I still need her.
“Nope. I tried, though. He wouldn't have it. And to make matters worse, my father hired this guy, Brand, and he's super fucking hot. Like male model hot.”
“And. . .” Her voice draws out. “Are you saying you like this guy?”
“I'm saying he's good looking, and I don't trust myself around him.”
