Page 83 of One Chance to Stay
Seamus shut me up with a kiss. His hands cupped my face, squeezing my cheeks as his lips smooshed against mine with force. Once the initial shock waned, I inhaled the scent of him.Musk. Sandalwood. Smoke. Vanilla. Like expensive whiskey, I wanted to drink him until he left me intoxicated.
Our timid love affair had come to its climax. At every turn, Seamus had me wondering, confused, about what he wanted. Or had he? While his mustache tickled my nose, I thought back to the first encounter. Translated into our common language, Seamus used his actions to speak on his behalf. What started as a whisper had reached a roar.
The need for oxygen forced a temporary retreat. While his hands remained on my cheeks, I realized something had changed. He might have pulled away, but it wasn’t a retreat, not behind the walls he allowed me to scale. He could have pushed away, leaving a rift between us. I couldn’t ignore the lingering touch.
“Get a room!”
Seamus tensed, his hands flying into his pockets at lightning speed. I spun just in time for a snowball exploding across my chest. Yelping, I threw up my arms as another hit Seamus in the beard.
Walter. Audrey.
“Do I hear church bells?” Audrey shouted.
I didn’t know how to respond. Did I have to declare some arbitrary label that neither of us had discussed? Had my goofy speech catapulted us from casual bunk mates to something more? In previous relationships, it always came down tothetalk.
“Don’t rush them.” Who knew Walter would be the one to come to our defense? “They’re still in the friends-with-benefits stage.”
Audrey laughed. “You mean fuck buddies?”
“Lady! Have some decorum.”
My face turned red as they snickered. Waving, they continued down the path toward the ice rink. It had grown toodark to see, but I knew his cheeks were painfully red. Snow dripped down my jacket, forcing a full-body shiver.
“I will have my revenge,” I mumbled.
When I turned to Seamus, he had reverted to his awkward self. “I’m trying,” he whispered. Retreating, yes, but not to the same man I first met two weeks ago. That man would have scoffed, kicked the snow, and made his way home.
“I didn’t have the heart to ruin their joke.”
Seamus returned to his tall self. As he straightened out, his eyebrow crept up his forehead. I gave him space to collect himself. Little by little, I learned to speak mountain man.
“We skipped that step.”
“Huh?”
“We weren’t exactly friends when you got your benefits.”
Seamus scoffed.
“When you took advantage of my innocence.”
Now I got a scoff and a shake of the head. Victory.
“Would it be better if we labelled this?”
He didn’t flinch. He didn’t bolt. I took that as a good sign. He didn’t reply as he unpocketed one of his hands. Holding it out, I bit my tongue. I didn’t need a definition. I’d already thrown my sexual identity out the window. Why not let the relationship be just as undefined? It seemed only fitting that our relationship followed suit. I suspected he understood the complications of making this work between us. For now, I wanted to live in the moment… withhim.
I took his hand. “You’re such a softie.”
“I know.” He pointed to the flask. “Is it full?”
“Your favorite.”
“Good man.”
I handed it to him. He studied it for a moment, fingers running over the shiny stones. When he finished inspecting his gift, our eyes locked. He scoffed, a smile spreading across hisface. With a finger, he popped the cap before gulping down a mouthful. He closed it, sliding it into his jacket pocket. “Let’s find Grace.”
“Think it’d be weird if she called me dad?”
