Page 72 of The Problem with Falling
I swallowed hard. “I’m thinking about—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Theo wrapped his arms around me. His right hand cuffed my neck, and he pulled me in for a kiss. He kissed me deeply, passionately, as if he’d been thinking about that kiss for a long time. His tongue parted my lips as my hands were wrapped around his big, strong frame. My mind was spinning, the butterflies were doing the tango, and Theodore Langford had kissed me.
The wildest part of it all?
I kissed him back.
Oh, did I kiss him back. As my lips parted from the sweep of his tongue, my nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, trying their best to meet Theo’s skin. I wanted to feel him—all of him—more than I’d ever wanted anything else. He felt like warmth, safety, and protection all wrapped up into one soul. He felt present. He felt right. He felt like he was mine.
Did he feel it, too?
As if the meaning of life was discovered for the first time ever?
Me: Why am I here, God?
God: To kiss Theodore Langford, duh, girl.
Why did he taste so good against my mouth? Why did I want to kiss him forever as we rolled into always? Why did he have to show me what kissing could’ve been and how warm and safe it could’ve felt? Why did he have to prove that every kiss I had before him was only the opening act, andhe—him—Theo—wasthe main show? My whole body shivered from his touches, the roaming of his hands as they slightly brushed against my ass in his sweats.
His sweats.
I was wearing his clothes while he was wearing my lips.
Every inch of me quivered from his entire being.
Then we stopped.
He stopped first, and my lips followed.
When we met one another’s stare, we each took a step away from each other.
“Shit,” Theo muttered, placing his hands on top of his head as he paced slightly. He paused his steps, then turned toward me. My body was still recovering from the kiss that changed everything. Now, for the remainder of my lifetime, I’ll be thinking about Theo and the kiss of all kisses. “I’m sorry, Willow. I-I-I cr-cr-c…shit!” he spat out, turning his back to me so I couldn’t see his irritation or embarrassment.
I stayed still for a moment, taking in his movements. Noticing every piece of him and remembering the little things. How his shoulders rose and fell heavily. How his hands made tight fists. How his head sat lowered.
My steps toward him were quiet. The boat only swayed lightly.
I stepped in front of him. I moved in close and placed my finger beneath his chin to heighten his head. I smiled. He didn’t. I placed my hands against his shoulders and rolled them back. I smiled again. He almost smiled back. I placed his hands in mine and loosened his tight grip. I smiled again. He smiled back. My heart felt that smile deeply. I pulled his hands up to my mouth and kissed every single finger. I then kissed his palms.
I looked up, and his eyes weren’t packed with embarrassment or anxiety anymore. No. Now, all I saw was gentleness. Calm. Security.
“Theo?” I whispered.
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to turn away when you get too overwhelmed.” I placed my hand against his cheek. “You’re safe here.”
He closed his eyes and exhaled a breath he seemed to have been holding for maybe a lifetime.
“Willow?”
“Yes?”
“Want to go home now?”
The way he said home made it feel as if it was somewhere I belonged, too.Oh, to have a home again.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Let’s go home.”
