Page 17 of Their Little House Colter
“You know what would make it better?” I loved sharing my brilliant ideas with others, even though most of them didn’t even think they were decent ideas, much less brilliant. “If they played music too?”
He thought about it for a few seconds, tapping his nose. “Only if you could turn it off. And only if you could pick the songs.”
“Yes! We should make those.”
Neither of us had the skills to make fancy sneakers that played music on command, but it was fun to talk and dream about.
“So…if you need to have time with just Ari and you want me to go somewhere, you can tell me,” Dallas said, running his hand through his hair. “If you just said yes to me because he asked you first, and you’re just being nice—”
“No,” I cut him off. We were going to be having none of that. “He didn’t really ask either of us. He hinted that he liked the idea of playing with both of us. But even if that weren’t the case, I’d want you here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. Ever since I first went off to college, I wanted to have a roommate I was friends with. Somebody I had something in common with and liked doing things with. But I’ve always had practical roommates. We got along fine, paid our share, that kind of stuff. But I don’t know… Now that I’m at the house, it’s different. And you’re important.”
It was so much more than that.
“I’m glad you’re there too.”
And there it was. That feeling again. That pull, where I wanted to lean in and kiss him.
And then my world shifted on its axis as Dallas said, “You look good enough to kiss.”
If I had taken a few seconds to think about it, to form a coherent phrase that would benefit both of us in the long run, I’d have said thanks and started toward the door.
But I did none of those things.
Instead, I said, “Okay.”
Dallas chuckled. “It’s an expression.”
I was pretty sure it wasn’t. “Does it have to be? I mean…maybe, if you wanted to—”
That seemed to be all the permission he needed.
His lips were on mine, his hand behind my head, holding me close as he kissed me soundly. There was no pretense of this being a sweet little peck on the lips. No. We were kissing each other as if we’d been yearning for it. Like we needed it. Like this kiss was our everything.
And I wanted it to be.
As our lips broke apart and we caught our breath, I asked, “Should we go home?”
I was so confused, and it made sense we’d go someplace to talk about things. Only he didn’t take me up on the offer.
Dallas reached up and cupped my cheek. “No, we shouldn’t go home. We probably shouldn’t have done this…or maybe we should, but that doesn’t mean that…”
“I know. I can’t be what you need.”
“And I can’t be what you need, Colter.”
“This sucks.” There was no pretending it didn’t.
“It does.” He kissed me again. This time short and sweet—a goodbye kiss. Not to our friendship but to this door we had opened. It was now slammed shut, bolted, and chained, locked with one of those security bars meant to keep everyone out.
It was over.
We had a taste. It was magnificent.
But it wasn’t meant to be.
