Page 20 of Once Upon a Holiday Vacation
Weston's eyebrows rose, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Oh yeah? What kind of risks did you have in mind, East?”
My heart raced as I leaned in closer, the rest of the world fading away. “I guess we'll just have to wait and see.”
I watched him as he laughed at one of Bob's jokes, his blue eyes dancing with happiness, his lip piercing catching the flickering torchlight. He was breathtaking.
“You two remind me of us when we were young,” Marjorie said softly, catching my gaze. “The way you look at each other... that's real love, honey. Don't ever take it for granted.” I swallowed hard, unable to form a response. If only she knew.
As the night progressed, the alcohol loosened our inhibitions. Weston's touches became bolder, his hand resting on my thigh under the table, his fingers tracing lazy patterns onmy skin. Each caress sent shivers down my spine, and I found myself leaning into him, craving more.
“Want to take a walk?”
His response was immediate. “Yes.”
The lights faded the further we moved away from the cookout. The gentle rhythm of waves lapping at the shore replaced the noise of the partygoers, filling the night air as we strolled along the moonlit beach. Sand shifted beneath our bare feet, still warm from the day's sun. My mind whirled like the distant tide, a mix of elation and uncertainty.
“Today was...” I trailed off, searching for the right word.
“Amazing?” Weston offered, his hand warm in mine.
I nodded, a shy smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah, amazing.”
We walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the space between us crackling with unspoken tension. The rum cocktails from dinner had left a pleasant warmth in my chest, lowering my usual inhibitions.
“You know,” Weston said suddenly, his voice husky. “I've been thinking about what you said earlier. About taking risks.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”
He stopped walking, turning to face me. The moonlight caught the glint of his lip piercing, drawing my gaze. “Yeah. I think maybe it's time I took one.”
I found myself swaying closer, drawn by an invisible force. “What kind of risk?”
His hand came up, fingers ghosting along my jaw. “This kind,” he whispered.
My breath hitched, anticipation coiling in my stomach. Was this real? Or just another part of our charade? The lines had blurred so much, I couldn't tell anymore. But as I stared into his eyes, seeing a reflection of my own longing, I decided it didn't matter. For once in my life, I was going to stop overthinking and just feel.
Our lips met in a soft, tentative kiss that quickly ignited into something more. The world around us faded away—the crash of waves, the distant laughter from the resort, all of it disappeared. There was only Weston, his lips moving against mine with a passion that left me breathless.
I gasped, my hands instinctively finding their way to his shoulders. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my knees weak. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body.
My heart raced, threatening to burst from my chest. This was really happening. After years of secret longing, of stealing glances and suppressing my feelings, I was finally kissing my best friend. And he was kissing me back with equal fervor.
As the kiss intensified, my mind struggled to keep up. Thoughts whirled through my head at dizzying speed. What did this mean? Was it just the alcohol? Or could Weston possibly feel the same way I did?
I pulled back slightly, needing to catch my breath. “West,” I panted, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are we doing?”
His forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. “I have no idea,” he murmured. “My head is a jumbled-up mess right now, East. I’m going to need some time to sort it all out, okay?”
I nodded shakily. “Take all the time you need.” I’ll wait for you forever, I thought to myself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WESTON
The first raysof sunlight filtered through the cabin window, painting the room in a soft, golden glow. I lay awake, my heart racing as I replayed the events of last night in my mind. The kiss. Easton's lips on mine. The warmth of his body pressed against me. It felt like a dream, but the lingering tingle on my lips told me it was all too real.
I turned my head slightly, drinking in the sight of him sleeping peacefully beside me. His dark hair was tousled, falling across his forehead in a way that made my fingers itch to brush it back. All these years—how had I never noticed how beautiful he was?
My stomach twisted with a mixture of exhilaration and confusion. This was Easton, my very best friend in the world. The guy who'd been by my side through every up and down of my life. He’d always felt like family to me. And yet, kissing him had felt more right than anything I'd ever experienced.
