Page 41 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
“Speak of what?”
“The kiss.”
“Yeah.” He releases a breath. “You might need to work on the not-speaking-about-it part.”
“Okay,” Carver calls out. “You’re good to go! Kiss away.”
Three dips his chin and I rise up on my toes, slowly moving my mouth toward his. When our lips meet, soft and warm, light pulses through me—electricity at the barest of touches. The memory of being in his arms years ago sends shockwaves through my body. It’s as if no time has passed. Or eternity has come and gone.
“Hold still!” Carver says.
My knees buckle, and Three’s hand go to my waist, gathering my body back in. When his lips find mine again, I melt into his arms. I’m a goner. Lost to his embrace.
“Okay, got it!” Carver calls out. “You’re all done.”
No.
I am done for.
Chapter Eighteen
Sara
Thirteen Years Ago: August
Three and I kissed tonight.
We were at our favorite picnic table behind Dips & Scoops sharing the same bench. We’d just finished our cones, and like always, I forgot to grab a napkin, so I had a little ice cream on the edge of my mouth, which should’ve been embarrassing, but I can’t even care about that now because of what happened next.
He reached out to wipe my lip with his thumb. Then he licked his thumb. And I guess I was staring at him because he started inchingtoward me. His eyes never left mine, even when he got super-close. And right before he kissed me, he asked if I was okay.
I THINK I said yes.I might’ve just nodded.
Either way, everything went into slow motion on the outside, while I had a total freakout on the inside. That’s why the details are hard to describe. But let me tell you, Three’s kiss was even better than I’d imagined. He was warm and steady and careful, and he paused to look me in the eye, like he was checking in to be sure I was all right, so I lunged at his mouth like some kind of lip-starved weirdo. Which maybe I am, since this was my first time kissing anyone, and all I can think about is doing it again.
I can’t believe I have to leave tomorrow, and since I’ll be away at St. Bernadette’s all year, I won’t see Three again until next June. Still, that brings me to the best part of tonight. Well, maybe the second best. Okay. Tied for first.
Are you ready?
Three asked if we could keep talking over the school year.AndI said yes.
If my dad won’t let me come back next summer, I’m probably going to die.
Chapter Nineteen
Three
Sara and I spend the drive back from Humboldt Farms listening to Christmas music with the volume cranked. Occasionally she sings a line or two, out loud and off key, but there’s zero talking between us. Which makes sense, I guess. Back in the barn, we agreed not to speak about the kiss afterward. The thing is, being that close to Sara again is literally the only thing on my mind.
I’ve got nothing else to talk about.
Our past together came roaring back to me in a brilliant flash of warmth and light. The taste of her lips. How perfectly she fits in my arms. The way I felt about her back then.
The way I feel about hernow.
So even though the ride is just a few miles, those miles feel like an eternity of contemplation.
For the kids,she suggested.
