Page 81 of Another Girl Lost

“Would you be open to a kiss?”

A question. A choice. I was in the driver’s seat.

Beyond kisses from young boyfriends in my early teens, this kind of experience was somewhat warped.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” he said.

“It’s been a while.”

“How long?”

That jostled loose a laugh. “Middle school.”

He didn’t seem shocked or disappointed. “I’ve got a move or two I can teach you. Nothing complex.”

I moistened my lips. “Okay.”

He leaned toward me but paused. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Close your eyes.”

Heartbeat kicking, I lowered my lids. I felt his face nearing and then the gentle touch on the center of my lips and then the left and right sides.

It felt good. Stirred feelings. Tanner had been obsessed with me enjoying sex. Della had told me to show him affection, to kiss him like I meant it. She had told me to tell him that I loved him. And to my shame, I’d played the part of the whore so he would relax and trust me.

One of my therapists pointed out that I wasn’t a bad person because of it. I’d survived, and I needed to be proud of that.

I leaned into Luke’s next kiss, and when he raised a hand to my chin, I didn’t flinch.

His face hovered close to mine. “Not bad.”

I was all stumbling adrenaline. “Thank you. That was nice.”

“We can do it again sometime.”

I could feel my brows furrowing, knowing what was supposed to come next.

“Don’t look so worried. We’ll take this at your pace.”

“You’ll become impatient with me.”

“Let me worry about that.”

My therapist had also said to trust my instincts. If I felt fear, honor it. If I felt attraction, embrace it. He’d also said there would be transition people in my life. Men who showed me how to finish a date or gave me my first real kiss. Those interactions weren’t meant to last, he’d said. More likely than not, that person would leave my life as quickly as they appeared. “Okay.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

SCARLETT

Tuesday, July 16, 2024

12:30 p.m.

I was finishing up the third color in my current piece. Blue, green, and now black. Not an ink black, but a brownish, darkish tint that reminded me of the color of aging blood.

I’d traded texts with Luke, but no new date on the calendar. That suited me. I liked the time to process my reactions to him.

---