Page 165 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
He slowly runs a hand down my back. “Have you thought about singing again? Like, really going for it?”
“Nah,” I say without any hesitation. “I’m all Jack’s got. And now that he’s in school, stability is important. Plus, it’s such a longshot. I don’t think it’s worth the sacrifice it might take to even try when there’s no guarantee it would work.” I lift my head and pull back the tiniest bit so I can look at him. “But I will tell you what I’ve thought about doing. Someday, maybe. If I can save up enough cash to buy a piano and get started.”
“What’s that?” Perry says, his hand rubbing slow circles across my shoulder blades.
“I’d love to teach. Piano and voice lessons.”
“I bet you’d be amazing at that,” he says. “You should totally do it.”
“I don’t have the degree for it. Or any degree. But if I teach for cheap at first, prove to people that I know what I’m doing, maybe I can eventually raise prices and build up a studio.”
“People just need to hear you sing, and they’ll be lining up for voice lessons.”
“Knowing how and teaching how are two different things, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.” More than he knows. I got so used to Trevor dismissing the things I wanted, it doesn’t seem real that Perry could be so supportive. So accepting.
“Do Trevor’s parents know how he treated you?” Perry asks.
I sigh and drop my head back on his shoulder. “No. And I don’t think I’ll ever tell them. They’re good with Jack. At least in small doses. And he has so few people in his life, I don’t want to risk alienating them.”
Perry is silent for a long moment, which gives me time to take stock of my feelings. It’s a weird sensation to be both completely relaxed and completely charged at the same time. My mind is at ease, comfortable in Perry’s presence, but my body is lit up, aware of every single place we’re touching. My head against his chest, his hands on my back, my side tucked against his. Perry smells like sandalwood, a scent I only recognize because I bought Trevor some aftershave once—citrus and sandalwood—because of how much I liked it, and Trevor returned it.
“Lila, I want to tell you something,” Perry says. “And I don’t want you to think I’m just saying it to make you feel better. You remember what I said about not being good at schmoozing. Please. I want you to take my words at face value.”
I sit up, sensing that I should face him for whatever he wants to say.
“No, don’t do that,” he says, tugging me back down. “This will be easier if you aren’t looking at me.”
I chuckle as I snuggle back into his chest. “So demanding.”
He gives my shoulders a squeeze before clasping his hands around my back. “When I first saw you, when you drove out to bring me a jack, of course I noticed how beautiful you are. But I also—” His words cut off, and he hesitates. “Now that I’m about to say this, it sounds a lot creepier than it did in my head.”
“I promise I won’t think you’re creepy.”
“I noticed your curves. Honestly, it took all my willpower to keep my eyes on your face because Ireallynoticed. It made youmoreenticing to me. Not less.” He shakes his head. “After what Jocelyn said to you tonight, and then hearing how Trevor treated you, I just . . . I want you to know how beautiful I think you are. Just as you are.”
Just as I am?This man cannot be real. If I wasn’t touching him, I might wonder if he were a mirage. Some fantasticalfigment of my imagination embodying everything I could possibly desire.
I shift so I can look at him—he can just deal with the eye contact—and smile at the warmth and sincerity I see in his eyes.
“I’m going to kiss you now, Perry Hawthorne.”
As I lean in, I think about that moment earlier this week when Perry fed me apples in the orchard. I sensed then that something was happening to my heart. If that day was the start of my falling, this moment might be the thing that propels me clean over the edge.
I should be nervous about that.
But I can’t bring myself to feel anything but the thrill of Perry’s lips on mine.
Chapter Eighteen
Lila
There is nothing franticor frenzied about this kiss.
Not at first. It’s warm. Tender. A kiss that feels like acceptance and understanding.
My story—my truth—it’s safe with Perry.
I reach up and thread my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, feeling my desire build with each passing second.
