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Chapter Nineteen
It was only a kiss.
How many kisses had she had in her lifetime? Thousands at least. And this was just one of them. Barely significant in the grand scale of things. Weigh this one kiss up against the thousands of others, or against the millions of other minutes in her life and it barely made a dent.
So why did it feel like something was happening? Why did it feel like angels were supposed to be singing or the earth should be moving or something else equally trite and unrealistic?
Why were her eyes closing? Why was she suddenly finding that she was falling into Hope, that she was tasting her, feeling the softness of her, feeling the press of her hipbones, feeling the heart-bursting sensation of Hope’s hands cupping her face?
For an instant, Ava responded. For an instant she had no control, she let her body take over, and her body was very, very definite about one thing: it wanted to be kissed by Hope Perkins.
Ava’s hands were already moving to Hope’s back, already ready to pull the woman closer, when her brain stepped into the equation and cleared its throat.
Ava practically jumped back.
Hope froze.
“I, uh, we, uh, you should really be leaving,” Ava managed. “I’m sure Alice is wondering where you are.”
“Alice knows where I am,” said Hope.
She was standing her ground and Ava admired that. No running away from embarrassing moments for Hope. She was standing there tall and proud with no shame about what she’d just done. Which rather made Ava want it to happen again.
Until her brain once again cleared its throat, a little louder this time, like a librarian at an increasingly rowdy patron.
“Yes, well, she might be worried anyway,” Ava said weakly.
Hope rolled her eyes. “Noah’s picking her up for the weekend.”
“So I’m an excuse to avoid your ex, am I?” asked Ava more sharply and much against her better judgment.
Hope was still calm, which given that momentous occurrence of just moments ago, was something of a miracle and Ava envied her her poise. “Not in the slightest.”
Ava sniffed. “I see.”
Hope’s mouth twitched a little at the corner. “Feeling better now, are you?”
“Better?” asked Ava because just at the moment she was feeling both far better and far worse than she could remember feeling in recent memory. Her legs were still shaking, for one. But then there was the memory of Hope’s delicate fingers touching her face.
“You were upset,” said Hope. “About the school closure?”
“Ah, yes, right.” Ava swallowed and made an attempt at pulling herself together. “But, as you said, we’re not closed yet, are we?”
“An admirable change in attitude,” said Hope. She stepped closer. Close enough that Ava could only imagine another kiss being the result. “Glad to see that I could help you.”
“Help me?” Ava’s voice was somewhat strangled and she wasn’t sure whether it came from panic at the thought of being kissed again or because she really wanted to be kissed again and was saving up precious oxygen in the event that Hope came closer still.
Hope smiled and shook her head. “You’re quite something, Ava Stanford.”
“I am?” Still strangled. She really needed to work on that. She couldn’t go through romantic encounters sounding like a squawking chicken.
Her legs wobbled even more. Romantic encounters.
“You are,” agreed Hope. “And I’m not going to say I’m sorry for what just happened, because that would be lying. I’m not sorry in the slightest, not one jot.”
“You’re not?”
Hope shook her head. “But if you’d rather ignore the fact that it happened, I suppose I can live with that.”
