Page 160 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
Eventually, Todd Weston stands up, dragging a couple of his buddies from the basketball team onto the stage with him. Lila hands off the microphone, laughing as all four guys lift their hands and bow down to the ground as if to worship her.
Goosebumps break out along my skin as Lila descends the stairs and walks toward me. There’s a look of uncertainty on her face, like she’s not quite sure how I’m going to respond. How I might feel. But as soon as our eyes meet, there’s something else happening. Something stronger than uncertainty or fear or anything else. Some unseeable force, a living, breathing thing, weaves its way around us, pulling us toward each other.
The noise of the song Todd and his friends are singing falls away.
For all I know, we’re the only two people in the room.
The only two people on the planet.
I’m going to kiss her.
Lila slips into my arms like she’s always belonged there. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her hands move up to my cheeks, and then she’s tugging me down, her body curving into mine as our lips touch for the first time.
Heat roars through me, racing out to my fingertips and down to my toes. I pull her closer, one hand splayed against the small of her back as if to anchor her against me. Only when she drops her hands to my shirt, clutching the fabric in her fists, do I remember where we are.
She pulls back, her breathing shallow as she lifts her eyes to mine. “Hi,” she says lightly, her lips curving into a tentative smile.
I pull her against me, moving so my mouth is close to her ear, the floral scent of her hair filling my nose. I breathe deeply. “Should I expect this kind of greeting whenever you say hello?”
“Maybe not. I’m buzzed on the adrenaline of performing. You better take advantage while you can.”
“Lila, your voice. That was amazing.”
“I haven’t done that in a very long time.”
I haven’t donethisin a very long time.
I kiss her again, my hand lifting to cradle the back of her head. She breaks the kiss and leans into the touch, exposing the slope of her jaw, the long curve of her neck. If we were anywhere but in a room full of people . . .
Jocelyn moans from somewhere to my left, and Lila and I both turn to face her. “We should get her to her room,” Lila says. “It doesn’t seem like she’s here with anyone else.”
I nod, knowing and hating that Lila is right. I begrudgingly release the woman in my arms and step toward my ex-wife.
“Up you go,” I say to Jocelyn, tugging her to her feet. “We’re going to get you to your room.”
With her arm draped over my shoulder, we make our way out a side door and head toward the opposite end of the hotel, where the rooms are, while Lila finds Grace, the woman who checked us in, to ask about Jocelyn’s phone and other belongings.
Jocelyn has sobered the slightest bit, but she still isn’t steady on her feet. I want to know if she has a friend, someone who could stay with her tonight, but it for sure isn’t a job I want to volunteer for, so I don’t ask.
We’re waiting at the elevator when Lila catches up, holding a phone and small purse that must belong to Jocelyn. “She’s sharing a room with Grace,” Lila says. “Grace says she’ll check on her in a bit, even if the reunion hasn’t wound down yet.”
“Grace is a good friend,” Jocelyn slurs. “And you, Lila. You’re a good singer.” She lifts her finger, pointing Lila’s direction. “But that’s no surprise. Bigger girls always have better voices.”
I freeze, completely horrified. And furious. I think back on the moment right after we arrived when Lila said she didn’t belong with someone like me. It’s such a ridiculous thought, and I hate that Jocelyn’s careless words probably reinforced it. An intense need swells in my chest—a desire to make sure Lila knows with one hundred percent certainty that she is perfect exactly as she is.
For Lila’s part, she seems entirely unaffected by Jocelyn’s rudeness. She smiles easily and lets out a lilting laugh. “I’ll take whatever perks I can get.”
It takes all my patience not to drop Jocelyn in a heap outside her hotel room door, but Lila insists on walking her in. “I’ll just be a minute,” she says. “I’m just going to help her get settled.”
I wait for Lila in the hallway, feeling keyed up, almost jittery from everything that’s happened. There is so much to process. Jocelyn’s comment about being miserable. I don’twantthat forher—I wouldn’t wish misery on anyone—but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t some part of me that feels vindicated. The woman was heartless in our divorce.
Then there’s Lila’s willingness to help Jocelyn. The way she saved karaoke, the way she’s repeatedly shown kindness to someone who has done nothing to earn it. Jocelyn has even done the opposite. She’s been judging, critical, downright rude. And Lila has smiled through it all.
Then her performance. Hervoice.
I’ve never heard anything like it.
Lila slips out of Jocelyn’s hotel room and breathes out a sigh. “Okay,” she says. “She should be fine until Grace makes it up to check on her.”
