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She nods, her expression open, expectant.
My heart pounds in my chest, urging me to close the distance between us, to take the leap.
“I’m an idiot,” Emily says, laughing. But her laugh sounds forced and her eyes are misty.
“Sorry?” I say, trying to read her and failing.
She begins to pace the hall, wafting the scent of her berry shampoo. “I shouldn’t have freaked out. I mean, it’s a kiss. If you want to kiss me, what’s the big deal? People kiss all the time. The French kiss twice! I heard the Hungarians like to kiss three times! Okay… on the cheeks but still…”
Her face is flushing while she rambles, and a rush of delight soars through me as I watch her mentally spiral.
“Right, it doesn’t have to mean anything…” I say, even though it’s a lie. Because if I kiss Emily right now in this hall, it will absolutely mean something. And depending on how it goes and the feelings that come from it, the kiss could take us to a different place.
A place where there’s no coming back without heartache.
“…friends kiss. You could argue that doctor’s kiss some patients… they call mouth-to-mouth the kiss of life, right?” She’s still rambling, getting worked up now. Her shoulders are raised, and she’s got her arms folded while she paces harder.
My heart hammers like a war drum while my body, unable to stand the tension any longer, works on autopilot, and I grab her arm.
With a yelp, Emily swivels to face me as I gently back her up until her back is pressed to the wall. Then I cage her between my arms and hover, enjoying the sensation of her body heat flooding me.
The air between us is charged so much, I swear the second I touch her we’ll both feel a shock.
“So, you’re saying that if I try to kiss you this time, you won’t run away?” I say in a low voice, my gaze trailing her face and landing on her beautiful, pouty lips.
She exhales, and I suck in her minty breath and lick my lips.
She’s apparently lost for words and just gives me a slight nod.
It’s enough.
I lean in, cupping her face and give her the kiss of all kisses.
She freezes when our lips touch, but then I let my hands roam to her waist, and she melts into me.
Then, she kisses me back, wrapping her arms around my neck.
Her nails graze my scalp as she runs her hands through my hair, and she presses into my body, fitting like a glove against me.
“Oh. My. Gosh,” she whispers when we break apart to catch our breath.
My lips tingle, and every part of me is buzzing as I grip her waist.
“My sentiments exactly,” I reply, smirking at her before going in for more.
As I succumb to my desires and make out with Emily, flashes of images cross my mind.
From the moment she grabbed my soggy umbrella instead of my hand, or when her face lit up as she talked about art. Then her slightly insecure grin in the woods, the flash of annoyance when I hit that Scouts leader.
All of the moments leading up to this come together like a tapestry and the kiss seals the deal.
There is no way in hell I’m marrying Madeline.
Or anyone else.
Father can take the business and have someone else break into Europe.
I’m only interested in seeing just where this goes with Emily.
