Page 43 of Bound By Water
My mouth drops open in surprise. Then, I decide a comment like that deserves a little punishment, and scoot in close, allowing my lips to hover an inch above his. “Twenty questions it is. I’ll go first. Tell me about your… first kiss.”
He groans. “You fight dirty, too.” He lifts his other hand and sweeps the hair back from my neck before he glides his finger down the side of my neck. “So do I.” While his finger continues its path, he proceeds to answer.
“My first kiss was in kindergarten,” he says in a low voice. “She was five and a half, and I was five. Her name was Margaret O’Connell. She had red hair and green eyes, and I thought she was the prettiest girl in our class. At recess, I announced to everyone, including her, that she was my girlfriend. Then, I stretched up and planted a kiss on her cheek.”
My lips twitch. “Older and taller. Was that your type?”
“And wiser. She proceeded to pop me in the eye,” he reveals with a laugh. “Nobody warned me about redheads, but I learned quick. Never kissed another.”
Laughing, I wink at him. “Good thing I don’t have red hair.”
His finger moves up and entwines a piece of my hair. “I’m not sure it would have mattered.” The tension between us increases a notch. “Your turn. First kiss.”
I twist my lips. “My story isn’t as good as yours. I was in the fourth grade and rode the school bus. So did this guy, Clay, who was a sophomore in high school who I had the biggest crush on. One day, my best friend dared me to kiss him.” I roll my eyes. “I never could resist a dare. As I was getting off the bus, I bent down and kissed his cheek, then ran off.”
“A sophomore. Wow, you liked them really old,” he says with a wink. “I might be way too young for you.”
“Ha, ha,” I mutter with a smile. “Obviously, I didn’t think through the repercussions. Clay laughed it off, but the kids on the bus were ruthless about it. Thankfully, he got his driver’s license shortly after and never rode the bus again.” Funny thing, though. I never regretted it.
“That was a great story,” he insists with a laugh. “Okay. Back to the questions. Favorite color.”
“Blue. Well, turquoise,” I tell him.
“Mine is purple. Any shade,” he says in return, releasing my lock of hair. “You pick the next question.”
Yawning, I scoot down on the bed and wait for him to join me. “Favorite or first pet,” I say a minute later.
His eyes find me, and there’s a wealth of sadness in them. “Frankie, my dog. He was the best. Definitely not a purebred. Short, with fur in a million different colors. We got him from the shelter when I was ten.”
“Did he die?” I ask tentatively.
“Worse,” he replies with a heavy sigh. “When we went on the run, I had to leave him behind. My mom took him to a friend of hers who had a farm. I loved him so much. They emailed her pictures of him every once in a while, but I couldn’t bear to look at them. She said he looked happy, though.” There’s a raspiness to his voice that makes me wish I’d asked another question.
Without a word, I roll over and wrap my arms tightly around him. The sweet scent of him washes over me. “I’m sorry.” The hurt in his voice is still there after all these years. He really loved Frankie.
He rests his chin on top of my head. “How about you?”
“Never had a pet,” I tell him. “My mom was allergic. Honestly, I was a girly-girl. All I wanted was Barbies and pink sparkly things.” It was true. My room looked like a pink glitter bomb had gone off in it.
His hand rubs down my arm. “Ever been in a serious relationship?”
“No,” I answer slowly. “My parents died when I was sixteen. In a car crash.” I pause, wanting to tell him the truth. “They were murdered. Lionel said my dad waited too long to get us to safety. Someone ran us off the road. I lived. They didn’t.”
“Raven?” he asks tentatively, squeezing me tighter.
I shrug but bury myself in the feel of his lean arms holding me and the scent of honeysuckle on his skin. “I guess. Lionel didn’t say for sure, but my dad did have the ability to manipulate air.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Anyway, I had a hard time getting close to anyone for a long time,” I finish with the answer to his question.Until you, I think, but don’t say the words. His hand moves from my arm to my back, and as the soothing motion continues, my eyes droop. This has been the longest day ever.
“I understand. You’re the first person I’ve gotten close to, too,” he admits with a yawn, making me smile at his blunt honesty. “I’m tired. How about you?”
When I nod, he reaches down and pulls the covers over us, then pulls me back into his arms. “Sweet dreams.” The ghost of his lips drift across the top of my head, and I smile at the warmth that the simple gesture leaves in its wake.
CHAPTER22
WILLA / GREER
