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“What are we doing?” I ask, not sure if this kiss should continue. I know what I want to happen, but I’m not sure it should happen.
“I don’t know, but I like it.” His thumb grazes my lower lip.
I do too. I like it so much. Our mouths crash together again like waves hitting the shore.
But when they recede, again, I ask, “No, really, what are we doing?”
“Kissing,” Ryan says, his voice low, mouth on mine once more.
“Kissing,” I repeat, my lips meeting his.
“Yeah, you and me,” he says between still more kisses.
Breaking apart, but unable to tear my gaze from Ryan’s lips, I whisper, “Last I checked, you and I were voted the least likely people to kiss.”
His lips press to my neck, trail along my shoulder, warming it, and then find their way under my jawbone before rambling back to my mouth.
Before we meet for another kiss, he says, “We’ll have to consult the yearbook.”
It’s like we’re chasing each other’s lips between words until we finally come together for another long kiss.
Eventually, I ask, “What about the rulebook?”
“We made the rules. Remember? This is a two-player game. We’re dating.”
“It’s not called the Dating Game.”
“No, it’s the Romance Game.”
“Is this how you usually romance ladies?”
“No, Nugget. I’m only getting started, and you’re not just one of the ladies.” Ryan’s voice is deep, commanding, and emphatic.
“Then what am I?”
“Right now, you’re mine.”
We dive into the deepest kiss yet.
Despite what Chip said in the will, this man isn’t shallow. He’s thorough. He fills me with the kind of affection and satisfaction I didn’t realize I wanted, needed.
Ryan and I eventually break contact and he pulls me close before we lie down in the sand, gazing up at the stars. I nestle against him, resting my head in the crook between his arm and chest.
After a beat, during which I count the ones in his heart, he says, “I think you like me.”
“Definitely not.”
With all the confidence in the world, he replies, “The kiss said otherwise.”
I make a little dismissive snort. “I’m not convinced.”
“You like me and you liked the kiss.”
“That’s a categorical no.”
This is the game we play, our banter, the teasing back and forth, building tension until we both explode—explode with a kiss that confirms Ryan’s words are absolute truth, but not one I’ll let in easily.
“I think we should try again,” he says.
