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“That’s because you’ve only kissed me,” he said with a finality that let me know he’d made up his mind.
I shook my head like a petulant brat. “I’ve kissed other boys.” And I had. Lucas had even seen me from his bedroom window, watching more than one boy drop me home.
“No one’s ever kissed you like I have,” he said with a confidence that made me want to kiss him again. He was right. I was seventeen and had, up till tonight, not reached second base with a boy. But Lucas didn’t see the paradox he’d created.
After tonight, there wasn’t another boy I would want to kiss other than him. “And I don’t want any other boy.”
He blew out a frustrated breath. “Don’t,” he started, and I took a small step back. “Don’t be the girl waiting on a guy. Don’t you think I’ve wanted to kiss you before? A thousand different times?”
I nodded. I wasn’t completely blind. I’d willed him to kiss me a thousand times. I’d wanted to kiss him a million other times.
“But I didn’t want to take us on that road knowing we might go away to different colleges. I want you to enjoy college life. All of it.”
His implication was as clear as the harsh light he flicked back on.
“You want to date other women?” It was a ridiculous question because we weren’t dating. Yet, I knew he’d understand.
He shook his head. “This really is about you, Adrienne. You are the most incredible woman in the world, and I don’t want you to dim your light for one second because of me. This isn’t our time. I want you to go live and enjoy.”
“When will be the right time?”
He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine, our heated breaths mixing. “You’ll know. And when you are ready, all you’ll have to say to me are the words seven-minute future. When I hear it, I’ll know it’s our time. The right time.”
We walked out of the closet that day, hand in hand, and marched right past the stares of our friends. We continued to march through Brad’s parents’ house, stride for stride along Market Street, still hand in hand, not stopping until we reached the ice cream shop. We shared a banana split in our favorite booth and shared silly jokes until the sun set.
When Lucas walked me home, we paused on my porch. For a split second, I thought he might kiss me again. Like really kiss me. Like he had in the closet. But he didn’t. He fake punched me on my arm, rubbed his hand on the top of my head, and said, “Good night, GND.” I raced up to my room and threw back the curtains in time to watch him reach his porch. He looked up at my window, which he did every time he reached the front door of his home. He spotted me staring down at me, and he blew me a kiss. A safe kiss. The type of kiss shared by best friends.
That was the first and only time Lucas Hobbs ever kissed me.
Every time I came home on a college break, and we crossed paths, I expected him to kiss me, and he didn’t. However, time and distance held no power over us. I missed him dearly, but every time we were together, it was like we had never left. We never missed a beat. Our friendship and bond was as tight as it had ever been.
And though I wanted him to kiss me a hundred more times, I found out he was right. It wasn’t our time.
Until now.
15
“You are such an ass, dude.” Trent chuckles as he enters the guest bedroom where he is staying. I’m sitting on his bed, and his suitcase is opened wide on the floor, half his clothes from the dresser dumped into it. Another handful of his clothes balled up tight in my fist hovering over the case. I let them fall, most of them missing the case and landing on the rug.
“And you are supposed to be my friend,” I return, the words coming out harsher than intended. She kissed him. She… kissed… him.
“I am,” he says, kicking the suitcase in my direction. “Don’t blame me if she only needed to spend an hour with me to realize she had overestimated your charm all these years.”
I know he’s joking, yet the words sting. He steps around the suitcase and plops onto the twin bed next to me. Too close.
I shove him hard, and he rolls in laughter, rocking off the edge of the bed and falling to the floor.
“Dude, take it easy,” he laughs through a snort. “Play nice, and I might give you the message Adrienne sent for you.”
A chill races through me, and I pop to my feet. “What? What did she say?” I can’t believe I fall for the bait. I’ve never in my life had to ask another person what Adrienne thought. We shared everything. But I’ve been gone for too long. How many other boys has she kissed while I’ve been away?
“If you could only see your face.” Trent’s chuckle fades away as he reads my face. He wraps his arm around his knees and blows out a breath. “I could joke with you all night, but I can see you aren’t in the mood.” He pushes up from the floor and stands two feet in front of me, his eyes filled with compassion. “She wants you.”
It’s not the words that hit me hard in the chest but the way Trent says them. Words I know he’s wished to hear from his parents. “She’s special.” He doubles down, these words not as difficult to hear.
“I know.” I don’t hesitate. “She’s always been.” I state it as a fact because it is.
“When was the last time you told her?”
