Page 12 of The One I Love
I don’t say anything. I can’t. She’s right. I do all those things. I’m doing them right now. But I can’t tell her why I do them, so I don’t say anything.
“Of course, the trademark Shane Cunningham silence,” she says, her voice growing louder. “Well, since you have nothing to say, let me tell you this: I’m a divorced, single mom of two exhausting teenagers. I rarely get nights to truly let my hair down and forget about my responsibilities. And you know what? I did. I was having fun. I didn’t feel guilty for living a little. I was having a lovely evening with a lovely man until youpounded your chest and dragged me away because apparently, fun isn’t allowed where you’re concerned.”
“You can have fun.”
This makes her laugh, though I doubt she’s finding it very funny. “You really don’t get it, do you? You’re supposed to be my best friend. Same with Wes and Oliver and Simon, but you more than anyone. You know everything I’ve been through. Everythingwe’vebeen through. So why? Why can’t you let me have this? Why do you insist on being my unofficial bodyguard? Why for one night can’t you let me be a single woman who wants to have a good time at a wedding and not worry about work, or my kids, or?—”
She doesn’t see it coming. She didn’t see it coming seventeen years ago, either.
I just grab her and kiss her. I kissthe hellout of her. I kiss her the way I’ve wanted to kiss her for years.
And in that moment, I know that now everything is about to change…
Chapter 3
Amelia
Holy shit,is Shane kissing me?
What in the world is happening right now?
I think that was the same reaction I had when he kissed me all those years ago. I was confused. I froze. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. But then my lips decided they wanted to kiss him back, so I did.
The same thing is happening now. My body is still. My mind is racing. My hands are in the air, because they were flailing around just seconds ago when I was giving my Oscar-worthy monologue.
But my lips? Those are moving with his. Because apparently that’s what they do when Shane kisses me.
Why is he doing this? I mean, I wondered that when we were eighteen, too, but I eventually chalked that up to an emotional night and an uncertain future. We were young, dumb, and let the night get the best of us.
That’s not the case tonight. We’re not young. We’re not as dumb as we used to be. And back then there was hesitancy in Shane’s kiss. That I do remember. Tonight? Right now? There’snot a drop of indecision. This man is kissing me because he wants to.
And I’m kissing him back.
My arms soon start moving, looping them around his neck so my fingers can run through his jet-black hair. He brings me in closer, pressing my body up to his rock-hard chest. And his lips? Holy hell. This isn’t the same kiss as that eighteen-year-old boy. No, this is the kiss of a man. A man who is trying to kiss me with everything he has in him.
It’s…amazing. Real. Raw. Passionate. My body is coming alive with every swipe of his tongue. With every nibble of my lip. I pull him closer, needing more, because now that I know Shane Cunningham can kiss like this, I don’t know if I want him to stop.
When Shane kissed me all those years ago, I’ll admit, it sent sparks through me. But I didn’t think anything of it. Since then, I honestly can say I’ve never thought about what kind of kisser Shane was. I mean, the man doesn’t date. I’ve never seen him with a woman. And because of that, it was easy to just not think about it.
But considering this man is taking my mouth in a way that I couldn’t fight against even if I tried, I’m going to go out on a limb with the assumption this man hasn’t been spending every Friday night alone. Because there is no way these lips have been sitting dormant for years.
I push that thought aside, because I don’t want to think about Shane kissing another woman right now. All I want to do is bask in the way his hands are cradling my face, holding me to him like he’s scared to let me go. I want to revel in the feel of his soft lips kissing me harder than I ever have been in my life. I want to memorize the sensation of his beard against my cheek.
Just as I’m about to give myself permission to truly sink intowhatever this is, there is a sound like a glass breaking against the concrete and we both jump back like we’ve been shocked.
“What was that?” I ask through my short breaths.
Shane looks around but doesn’t move away from me to investigate the scene. Some cop he is.
“Probably some drunk.”
I nod, not knowing what to say. Because the spell is broken. The moment is gone.
Shane and I stare at each other for what feels like hours. Neither of us says anything. The only sound in the air is our heavy breathing and the rustle of the trees blowing in the soft April breeze of Nashville.
“I’m—”
“That was?—”
