Page 43 of Tell Me Softly
As he edged close to me, despite every rational thought in myhead, the only thing I wanted was for him to kiss me. I closed my eyes, I felt his breath on my face, his hands touching my knee, his fingers slowly climbing upward…
“Did you like the cake?” Taylor’s mother interrupted us then, and as she walked in, we jumped back to our place. Katia must have seen something, but she pretended everything was normal. Taylor leaned back, still looking at me, and answered his mother calmly.
“It was delicious, Mom.”
“Have you figured out what you’re going to do for your project?” She placed her cup in the sink and took a glance at the notebook on the table. It lay open with not a single word in it, just a few of my doodles.
I wanted to run away. I needed to take in what had been about to happen just then. Taylor was supposed to be my friend, we weren’t supposed to be any more than that…or were we? Did he have feelings for me?
“I think we have, Mom,” Taylor said, pulling his laptop toward him.
“What?” she asked, surprised. But she wasn’t really paying attention. She had started rummaging around in the refrigerator, looking for something she could make Taylor for dinner, I assumed.
“We’re going to discuss myths surrounding female sexuality. What do you think?”
I blinked, wondering where the hell he’d gotten that from.
“Myths, huh?” his mom said.
“Yep. We’re going to reveal what everyone’s been getting wrong.”
I smiled and nodded.
“I like it,” she said.
Taylor looked at me and mouthed the wordsI like you. MyGod. I really did need to get out of there. I was feeling a tingling in my stomach, and I didn’t know what to do with it, and I needed time to myself to think all this over.
“I’ve got to go,” I said. “If I’m not home soon, my mom will kill me.” I looked up at Katia, who was beating a bowl of eggs, and her warm smile made me wish I could just spend the night there.
“Of course, honey,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “It’s late. You can come back any time, though.”
This made me feel loved and awkward at the same time, and that feeling only worsened as Taylor walked me to the door.
“That was fun, right?” he asked, hands in his pockets and smirking.
I paused, trying to be calm. “Taylor…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, stopping me, covering my lips softly with one of his fingers. “I like being with you. I always have. Everything else can wait.”
I didn’t understand what that was supposed to mean, but I also didn’t want to stick around to discuss it. I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, but surprised myself by sliding over to the corner of his lips. Don’t ask me why—I just did it, without thinking.
Taylor grabbed my arm, and I thought that touch would make me melt. What had happened in the kitchen was continuing now, and this time, I was the one who’d started it. I wanted badly to kiss him; maybe that would make clear to me what I really felt, maybe then I could see if risking it all was worth it, if being lovers really meant more than being friends. For days, I realized, I’d been thinking about it without admitting it to myself and dwelling on everything I felt when I was close to him: security, heat, attraction…
If anyone had told me then where I was headed, I’d have goneback in time and sat next to someone else to get a different partner for my biology project. Screw that: I’d have avoided any contact with Taylor Di Bianco whatsoever.
But nobody can tell us where our decisions lead, right?
Poor little Kamila…if only you knew what was in store for you.
Chapter Sixteen
Thiago
The coaching job was a good opportunity, but I was worn out at the end of the day. It wasn’t just the hours or even overseeing detention; it was all you were expected to do just to be a part of the team. I was constantly having to play nice with people, helping out with this or that, and that didn’t exactly come naturally to me. Beyond that, I had myself to deal with. The memories whose clutches I was struggling to escape.
Often, at home, I felt the walls closing in on me. So much so that I started looking for my own place. I didn’t care if it was a dump; I just needed to get away. But I had to think about my mom. Leaving her alone as soon as we’d moved back didn’t strike me as the best idea. She would understand and pretend it didn’t matter, but I knew moving back there hurt her just as much as it had hurt us.
I parked my car in the driveway––my bike was still out of commission––and walked toward the front door. I didn’t realize there was someone there until she almost ran into me. Kam froze, and my brain needed a moment to realize she was actually there, that she was coming out ofmyhouse, that she had been withmybrother,mymother…
