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Of course, he probably thinks that, because I haven't come forward to meet him, I still want to leave him.
So, since my lips seem to refuse to talk, the moment he opens his mouth I kiss him. He greets my kiss with surprise at first, but then his soft lips mold to mine in breath-taking sync. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly to him, the warmth of his body fusing with mine, breathing vigor into my limbs.
When we break off, a wisp of desperation still lingers in his eyes. "I'm such an idiot, Serena. I have to—"
"No, I'm the idiot."
"Just let me finish," he whispers, the desperation in his eyes growing stronger by the second. And though his arms still press my body to his, and my hands are still knotting his hair, it's painfully clear that he thinks the kiss was just an impulse, and that I will leave him any second now. "I don't know what I was thinking. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Serena. Please, don't go to New York." The hint of a smile contours on his face. "I lov—"
I put my finger on his lips, a light tremor shaking my body, as I take in what he was about to say. "Don't, James." The desperation in his eyes turns to panic. "I want you to say those words when you're ready. I'll wait by your side for that to happen. I'm not going anywhere."
For a few seconds, neither of us breathes. Or moves. We just stand, entangled in each other's arms, eyes locked. And then our lips find their way together in a kiss that expresses what no words, even a thousand of them, ever could. Relief pours from his lips, reverberates from his chest, as his hands cup my face, bringing a warmth to my cheeks that spreads slowly throughout my body, filling all of me, from my core to the tips of my fingers.
We break off gasping for air, but neither pulls too far away. I need to have him close. I need to feel his warm breath on my lips. He presses his forehead to mine, and I relish the moment, my eyes closed.
"I'm ready now," he says. "I don't know why it took losing you to realize it. I love you, Serena, and I always will."
"I love you too," I murmur, pressing my lips to his in another kiss. I don't try to hide or control the quiver. I don't want to. I want to give into it, to lose myself in his words. So I do. His lips paint his words over my mouth, his hands carry them to my hips, his chest brings them closer to me with every breath. When we pull apart again, we both burst out laughing. Then someone clears his throat, and we realize that the people seated on the chairs nearest to us have witnessed the whole scene. Some of them grin, some even give us thumbs up. Others, like the old man who cleared his throat, aren't as pleased.
I blush violently, and James pulls me farther away from them, until we reach a corner that's slightly hidden from view. We're both still laughing, but then James turns serious, as I lean against a wall.
He takes both my hands in his, looking down at them. "I'm sorry I clung so tightly to the past. That I allowed it to terrify me so much. Losing someone we love shapes us, punches us in the gut until we bend and break. But we must never let that pain define us." He blinks up at me. Smiling. "Thank you for showing me that," he whispers, and I catch my breath as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. He bites his lip, turning his head to the right. I follow his eyes to the panel in the distance, displaying the upcoming flights.
"Since we're at the airport, you know… how about flying somewhere, just you and me?"
"Mmm," I answer, shifting my gaze back to his lips. "Sounds tempting."
"I mean, I still haven't figured out how to fly on a broom, do you think a plane would do?" He unhitches his gaze from the panel, turning toward me, grinning, and I feel my cheeks heating up, as I remember that moment, with both of us wearing black masks, dancing, when I told him the three dreams… fantasies, really. "I promise I'll look into it, though." He's so solemn as he says this that I cannot help but chuckle.
"No need. I don't want to lose myself in fantasies anymore," I answer. "I have another dream now. I want to lose myself in us."
"That I can take care of." His grin widens, and just when I think he will lean in and kiss me, he steps away from me, grasping my bag with one hand, my fingers with the other. "Let's go then."
He starts toward the flight panels with quick steps, and I have to run to keep up with him.
"Where are we going?" I call to him.
He turns to look at me, the corner of his lips lifting into a half-smile—a conceited one I know only too well. "Where would be the fun if I told you?"
Lost is a prequel novella to Lost in Us and can be read before or after.
Whatever might he lp him forget his past and numb the pain, James has tried it all: booze, car races, fights, and then some. Especially women. College offers plenty of opportunities for everything. . . Especially when you have a trust fund to spend.
Serena spirals deeper and deeper into a hurricane of pain. But no matter how far she falls, there’s no redemption from the overwhelming guilt.
Two souls consumed by their pasts fight to learn how to survive. But all hope seems to be lost.
Until they meet each other.
