Page 37 of Tulips and Lost Time

“Answer the question, Luca!” She shoves up to rest on her elbow, her chin folding in a wholly unflattering way, and yet, she’s totally, impossibly beautiful. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

“May. Why?”

Her eyes dance with something I haven’t yet figured out. “Interesting. And more weight added to my theory. How does it feel here,” she presses her palm to my chest, her fingers like fire against my skin that speeds my heart to a thudding roar, “to hear me plan out a year of casual fuckery with random men you’ll never know the names or faces of?”

Homicidal, mostly. Sick, definitely. “Hopeful,” I choke out, “that it’ll be the start of a very happy, fulfilling life that you won’t eventually regret.”

“You think I might regret staying?”

“Yes!” I take her hand and move it away. Second time. Second sin. “You stay in this podunk town in the middle of nowhere, hook up with a guy you’ve known your whole life, and see nothing of the world? Yes, you’ll regret it, Bear. What are your plans for this?” I look down between us, loathing the three inches that separate her body from mine. “We make out a few times. Break the news to Marc. I propose or risk his bullet in my back. We get hitched, make a few babies, destroy the career you’re about to build. And then… what? Die old, but together?”

“I don’t think Marcus would demand a proposal.” She’s entirely too fucking flippant about things, lying back and grinning up at the sky. “I think he’d sooner kill and bury you in the woods out by Popcorn Palace. I don’t intend to destroy my career. In fact, women have married and made babies for a long time, and they’ve still maintained outside employment. Oh, and,” she glances across to meet my stare. “I feel you’re jumping way ahead here. I’m not asking for marriage tonight. I’m asking for a kiss. Ya know… to test things out.”

“To test what out? How long I can live with Marcus’s fist planted squarely in the side of my face?”

She sniggers, full of fun and tempting. So fucking tempting.

“You’re exceptionally dramatic, considering the vocation you chose. Your job is literally to remain calm in high-stress situations. And yet, you’re here throwing out marriage proposals, best friend blow ups, and the sex talk, all before we’ve even kissed.”

“You’re trying to wear me down.” I drop to my back and close everything up. My eyes. My lips. My ears, if I could. My entire fucking soul, if only I hadn’t already given it to someone else. “You think you can be cute and consistent, and my baser instincts will give you anything you want.”

“It’s working, right?”

I feel her weight on my chest. The stab of her elbow against my sternum. Instantly, my eyes fling open and stop on hers, just two inches away. Her large halo of hair, blocking my view of the sky. Her gentle breath, coating my lips and tongue. And worst of all, her smile, swearing that everything is already agreed and sorted. “It’s just a kiss, Luca. You’ve done it a million times, I’m certain.”

Yeah. That’s the fuckin’ problem.

“I’m eighteen,” she insists. “I’m grown. And soon, I’ll be kissing someone else anyway.”

That’s a fuckin’ problem, too.

“Don’t let me go to college without knowing what it could be like.”

“Bear…” I groan. “Stop.”

“You love me,” she pleads. “Whether it’s familial, or friendship, or something more, something deeper, we can both acknowledge out loud that we have love.” She searches my eyes. “Right?”

Say no. Say no. Say no! But I can’t. It’s impossible. So I dip my chin just a fraction of an inch. “Yes, Bear. There’s love.”

“And we both know this isn’t me.” She looks down at my chest. At my lips. Then up to my eyes. “I don’t put myself forward like this, ever. I’m terrified of rejection. And here you are, saying no, time and time again.”

Pain lances through my gut and up to stab at my heart. “I’m not trying to reject you, I swear. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“No. You’re trying to do the right thing. But that right thing is Marcus’ version of right. And yours.” She searches my eyes. “But what about mine?”

“What do you consider the right thing? Me having a one-night stand with my best friend’s sister, all because she was feeling bratty and wanted a quick fuck before college?”

“I said kiss,” she smirks. “I didn’t mention fucking. And yes, my version of right is experiencing some of the big things with someone who loves me. Someone I love in return. Would you have me trust some douchey Chad when he says, ‘it’s okay, baby. Sex isn’t supposed to be pleasurable for you. Just for me.’” She deepens her tone, setting my temper on fire. “Or, ‘it’s okay, babe. Kissing includes me grabbing your tit, even if you didn’t say I could.’”

“If someone grabs you without your permission, you cut his nuts out and call me so I can help clean up. If he fucks you and it doesn’t feel good, then he didn’t do it right.”

“Should I cut his nuts out, too? For being a dud.”

“Yep. Then you aim for better. Because the one you chose was useless. You’re not the first inexperienced girl to go off to college, Kari. It’s okay to not know everything right away.”

“It’s just a kiss, Luc.” She drags her bottom lip between her teeth and searches my eyes. She readjusts her weight on my chest, pressing down on my ribs and reminding me of the beating I took for her years ago. “Just one time,” she implores. “I’ll never tell Marcus. And for the rest of our lives, even after I head off to college and marry someone else who’ll impregnate me and ruin my life, we can continue to sit across from each other at family dinner and know, we have our secrets.”

She walks her fingers over my chest and around to stroke my neck. It’s like fire and ice in one, a nirvana-like touch that sets me ablaze, and yet, soothes my soul.

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