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I met her eyes in the mirror. “I think it might be too late for that.”
Layla’s eyes softened even more, making her face look a little bit like it was about to melt off. “Which road do you want me to take, Lyn? I need to know what to say so I can help you.”
“Lyndi?”
I spun around at the sound of Beau’s voice, widening my eyes at Layla.
“Beau, this is the women’s restroom,” Layla said impatiently.
“I know it is, that’s why I’m not coming in. Lyndi, can we talk? Please?”
Layla looked to me for an answer, and I nodded. “Okay. Good luck. I’ll see you later.”
I hugged her one more time before checking my reflection again, then we walked out. Beau looked even more gorgeous than ever now that I knew what it was like to feel his lips on mine, and my heart cracked at the sight of him leaning against the wall outside.
I waited until Layla walked away, then turned hesitantly toward him. “Sorry about her.”
“It’s fine.”
Shifting from one foot to the other, I fought to keep my emotions in check. “So, um, what did you want to talk about?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we said we’d only kiss when prompted, and while that was technically prompted, I know it was… surprising.”
I wrinkled my nose at him, needing to lighten this up before I started crying again. “You’re not gonna ask me if it was gross, are you?”
A shocked laugh escaped him, causing him to put a hand on his chest. “Uh, no. I don’t wanna know.”
Well, it wasn’t. Unfortunately for me.
Remembering that I’d only bolted because of his post-kiss reaction, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. I needed to gain back a little dignity. “It’s fine. I could tell it wasn’t a big deal toyou, so it’s not a big deal to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his whole mouth curling up like he’d just tasted acid.
“Honestly? I know I don’t have a lot of real-life experience, but after that kiss, you looked…fine. You weren’t all lit up with desire or clenching your jaw or feeling rattled. It was justbusiness.”
I didn’t know what I expected him to say, but the bitter laugh that shot out of him wasn’t it. He jammed his hands into his pockets and took a step back. “Ah, lemme guess, the heroes in your romance novels always get all lit up and jaw-clenchy, am I right? Little descriptions put in there by the author to let you know how much that kiss turned their whole world upside down in case you wondered if it was just a kiss orthe kiss?”
I nodded, once again. The man could read people, and he’d read me like one of the very books he thought so little of. “Yep. But don’t worry, I get it. You ‘aim to please,’ right? And this isn’t real.” I’d used air quotes around his favorite line, and he’d winced like I’d slapped him.
Without warning, he moved right up against me, his breath hot on my face. “You know, maybe if you stopped comparing real-life men or real-life kisses to fictional ones, it might help you navigate dating in the real world a little better.”
“I’ve heard that,” I snapped.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But you know why I always make things about book boyfriends?”
“Enlighten me.”
“Because if I dismiss them for not saying the right things or doing the right things, then it’s notaboutme. It’s not about how I don’t feel like I know how to say or do the right things, and even if I manage to mask that for a little while, deep down I know I won’t be able to do it forever. Okay? So, us breaking up for all these non-book-boyfriend reasons is a lot better than all of that. Is thatrealenough for you?”
Movement caught my eye, and I flicked my gaze that way without thinking. Then my eyes landed on my grandma walking over here with her head tilted like she was concerned.
Concerned we were fighting.
Maybe even concerned we werefaking.
Oh, no.This wasn’t going to fall apart after I got my heart trampled. Not on my watch.We’re just a happy couple, nothing to see here, Grandma.
I reached for his face, pulling him toward me and right into a crushing kiss. He responded immediately, wrapping his arms around me, one hand at the small of my back and one at the base of my neck.
This kiss was different already, only a second in. But I wouldn’t let myself experience the contrast between tender and passionate. I didn’t need to add such comparisons to my memory bank only to cry over it later.
I snuck a glance over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, and when I saw that Grandma had pivoted and taken off in the other direction, I wrenched free of him and stepped back.
“What—”
“My grandma was coming,” I said quickly, the burn of embarrassment shooting through my veins. “It was fake.”
And then I turned on my heel and left him once again, this time not bothering to look at his expression. I didn’t need to see him looking unmoved again, and he didn’t deserve to see me looking—once again—like my entire world had been turned upside down.
