Page 103 of Resorting to Romance

“Something like that.”

“We don’t have to …”

The words don’t make it out of my mouth because Mila reaches up, grips the back of my neck and pulls me down toward her. Once we’re in motion I don’t need any other encouragement. I’m all in. I pull Mila toward me with the hand I already have splayed on her lower back. She moves with my coaxing, melting against me with a soft sound I’ve never heard from her before. It’s too much. Way too much. If this is acting, I’m calling the Academy.

Maybe Mila’s not acting. This could be strictly physical on her part. She’s a woman who hasn’t been kissed by a man in years,with the exception of that kiss we shared at the hardware store. Maybe she’s like someone who gave up sugar and finally takes a bite of a cookie. I’m beyond grateful to be the one Mila’s breaking her fast with. I’m so happy that I could write poetry, hire a skywriter, and fall to my knees to thank heaven.

Our lips have barely touched and I’m a goner.

And then, Mila’s hand starts to tug at my neck, like she can’t help but drag me closer. And I smile. She smiles back, like a dream. Or one of those pick-your-ending stories.This. I pick this.

I tilt my head, angling my mouth over hers, gently brushing a kiss there. Practice? We don’t need practice. We’re naturals. If this were the world championships of kissing, we’d get the gold, and we’re only just getting started.

I kiss Mila softly, intentionally restraining myself. Her lips brush against mine and linger. The slightest contact from her travels through me like a licking flame. I’m careful not to push past her unspoken limits. But then Mila starts to run her fingernails along the back of my neck, pulling me nearer with the arm she’s got looped around my waist, and that’s all it takes. I hold her to me. Our mouths dance and we confirm everything I already knew.

Mila’s made for me. We fit one another. She’s everything I want and need and can’t get enough of. She’s satiation and hunger, sweetness and spice. Depth and light, tension and relief. I run my hand down her hair, caress her arm, move my palm so her soft cheek is cupped in it.

The rain falls on the roof of the shack. We’re secluded, separated from the world, oblivious to anything but how it feels to finally be in one another’s arms again. I pour all my longing and feelings into this kiss as if it’s our first and last. It may be.

Practice? This isn’t practice. I never needed to practice with Mila. I want a lifetime of her kisses, her soft sighs, the way she feels when she mirrors my movements, telling me wordlessly that she feels this too.

I brush my thumb across Mila’s cheek when I pull back. Ihave to stop. If I don’t, this will go farther than we can handle. Maybe it already has.

Mila’s breathing harder, her eyes bashful, studying the neckline of my shirt and then collapsing into me so I can’t see her face when we part. Our arms are still wrapped around one another. The silence is thick with unspoken words, damp from the storm, heavy with fresh longing despite the fact that we quenched our thirst only moments ago.

Mila’s head rests on my chest. I smooth my hand down her back. We don’t move. We should. This isn’t part of practicing. I’m afraid to breathe, to shift my weight. The slightest motion could push her away and this whole experience will pass as quickly as the squall outside, which I already sense is dissipating as it moves over the island and further out to sea.

“Um … so,” Mila says, her words muffled in my shirt.

“Yeah.” I smile down at her, but her face is still buried into me, her breath warm through the soaked cotton.

“That was pretty good practice.” She looks up at me now, an expression on her face I’ve never seen before. It’s playful and flirtatious.

“It was. I’d say we might want to take it down a notch in public, though.”

“You think?” She giggles.

Her eyes drift shut and pop open again.

“What did I do?” She seems to be asking herself instead of me.

I take her chin in my hand and tilt it up. “Don’t. Mila, we kissed. That’s whatwedid. And, it will …”

I can’t even finish my thought.It will serve the charade…keep Brad away … show my parents we’re real …

That kiss wasn’t an act. For me it wasn’t. I might be able to lie to Brad. I’ve even brought myself to the point where I’m willing to deceive this whole island and my own parents. But I can’t lie to Mila.

Mila smiles softly up at me. “I think the rain is stopping.”

“Look,” I say. “I know where we stand. You know where we stand. We’re friends who kiss really … really well.”

That much is true. It’s obvious Mila wants to redraw the lines in her life. Whether this charade calls for it or not, I won’t be kissing her again. Not on the lips. I can’t. From this point forward, I’m going to keep my feelings on my side of the line. I’m here to do her a favor, plain and simple. If she wanted more from me, she’d give me a sign. Instead, she’s been clear. I’m the one who muddied the waters by falling for her. She doesn’t need to be burdened with my infatuation. I’ll deal with that on my own time. For her, I’ll dial it back.

“Yeah. We do.” She covers her face with her hands and then peeks out at me. “We kiss … well.”

“A plus, I’d say.”

“Top of the class,” she jokes back.

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