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Her lower lip drops. “You’re serious. You’re actually doing this.”
“One thousand percent serious.”
For several seconds—an eternity—she just stares at me. The look in her eyes is almost too much to bear. Relief, hope, and excitement that grow and finally overtake her entire face. My heart bounces against my ribs like it wants to throw itself into her hands.
“Is that a yes?” I whisper.
She launches across the bench, slamming into me with all the grace of a moose. Her knee barely misses my groin. Her elbow clips my jaw before her arms tighten around my neck in a near-chokehold.
But I don’t care.
She’s in my arms, delicate and strong, vibrating with joy. Her breath skates over my throat, and there’s absolutely no stopping the small groan that leaves me. Thankfully, she’s babbling in my ear and doesn’t hear it.
“…so many ideas. I can’t believe this. You have no idea. Woodworking! Building birdhouses was one of my favorite activities. And I learned how to tie-dye last year—kids would love that. Oh my God, this is so amazing.” She stiffens and leans back so we’re eye-to-eye. “If this is a prank, I’m going to end you.”
Her breasts are pressed to my chest, soft and warm, and if she moves even an inch, she’s going to feel exactly how serious this is.
“Not a prank.” My voice is raspy, on the edge of a growl.
Celeste gasps, and fuck, I’m so over-sensitized I feel her nipples harden, pressing through the thin materials of bra, dress, and my own T-shirt. There’s a pause, thick and molten, then she does the exact opposite of what I expect her to do.
Instead of recoiling, she leans in.
She.
Kisses.
Me.
I’m so shocked I can’t react to the first brush of her lips. She tenses and starts to pull back. I finally snap out of it and catch her, one arm around her waist and the other hand on the back of her head.
“No take backs,” I whisper.
After seventeen years of dreaming about this moment, I finally get to rewrite history. Not as a boy, but as a man.
I claim her lips with mine. Harder than I planned, but I’m so fucking turned on I can’t help it. And she whimpers. Her mouth opens for me, hot and lush and perfect, and her tongue tangles with mine.
I see fucking stars.
“Mom?”
We jerk away from each other so fast my head slams into the arch hugging the bench and she falls backward, catching herself before she hits the ground. I blink and she’s on her feet, half-running toward Damien, whose wide eyes veer between me and his mom. Then he smirks, and I’m gut-punched with how much he suddenly looks like Jeremy.
“Damien, honey! What’s up?” Her voice is too high and too fast.
“Grams’ show is over. Can we go home?”
“Oh! Okay, sweetie.” Celeste throws me the briefest glance. “It was great talking to you, Lucas. Have a good night!”
I would laugh, but there’s actually nothing funny about this. “See you guys later.” My hand lifts in a super lame wave.
Damien’s smirk widens as he waves back. “Bye.”
Celeste speeds up, almost dragging Damien toward the house.
I watch them go, then drop my head into my hands. My body vibrates with a need I haven’t felt since a moonlit cove a lifetime ago. My head is fuzzy with incredulity.
She kissed me.
