Page 10 of The Fangirl and the Playboy

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Eleven Years Ago…

It’s cold and wet after a mid-winter’s storm this week, but Gavin and I don’t let the weather deter us as I park my brother’s truck on the beach with the tailgate facing the lake. He hops out and grabs the dry wood we bought from the truck bed, then moves to the ring of bricks visitors use as a firepit and sets about starting a fire.

I grab the blankets, snacks, and the cooler filled with sodas and water bottles from the backseat of the extended cab, then hoist myself up onto the lowered tailgate to watch my best friend as he arranges the logs over some kindling sticks.

We’ve been near-constant sidekicks since he got back to town, hanging out almost every night and weekend when he wasn’t required to be on set. Filming for Phase is complete, and he leaves tomorrow for Los Angeles. I won’t see him again for a few weeks, when he returns to shoot Wane.

And after that? I don’t know. I may never see him again, and I have no idea how I’m going to handle that. After months of getting to know him and growing closer, imagining him disappearing from my life for good is justdepressing.

That’s why I’m determined to enjoy and cherish every moment we spend together. I know I’ll miss him like crazy when he’s gone, but I’ll always have the memories.

With a shout of victory, Gavin looks over at me, grinning broadly as flames lick at the logs before him.

“Good job, Hollywood,” I say with a smirk, and while he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn’t drop.

I started calling him that after he was peacock-proud of himself for catching a real, live fish last summer. It was what you might call a “keychain” at about an inch long, but Gavin acted like he caught a world-record-breaking monster.

It’s adorable how giddy he gets when he accomplishes something country boys learned to do in elementary school, and his joy makes my heart swell in my chest.

Walking toward me, he spins and hops up onto the tailgate next to me. Grabbing a blanket from my lap, he shakes it out and swirls it through the air, dropping it over our shoulders so we’re cocooned inside.

He’s into astronomy, so he points out some constellations to me and talks about the mythology as we sip on our sodas and munch on the bag of potato chips I brought. We laugh as he talks about something funny that happened on set today, and eventually, silence falls between us as we stare at the flickering flames of the fire.

I drop my left hand to the truck bed between us, using it as leverage to adjust my position as the cold seeps up from the metal beneath the blanket we’re sitting on. Then I freeze as something warm brushes against my pinky. My gaze shoots down, and between the edges of the blanket around us, I see the pinky of Gavin’s right hand moving against mine.

I look back up at his face, and he’s staring at me intently as his hand moves, sliding over mine gently before flipping it over so he can weave our fingers together. The heat from his palm sends electricity zipping through me, where it settles in my belly with the flapping of a thousand butterfly wings.

We’ve held hands before, but never like this. Usually, he takes my hand to drag me along behind him on some adventure, or I take his when I make him close his eyes for a surprise I want to show him.

But this right here? This is different.

“I’m going to miss you, Willow.”

He’s said those words before, of course, but tonight they sound like another language. Like they have a completely different meaning as he stares into my eyes with a longing I’ve never seen there before.

My lips are suddenly dry, so I lick them, and his eyes drop. He stares at my mouth for too long, making my heart pound out a staccato rhythm. Ever so slowly, he leans in, his gaze locked on my mouth like he’s in a trance or something.

I don’t move a muscle for fear of breaking the spell. I forget to breathe as he draws closer. My eyelids fall closed as his breath wafts over my skin.

Finally, his lips brush softly over mine, and fireworks ignite inside me. His free hand moves up to cup my cheek, and the explosions boom through my entire body.

As far as first kisses go, this has to be one for the record books. Soft and teasing, and nothing like my friend Shauna said she experienced when Bobby Staples shoved his tongue into her mouth and jerked it around like a wind sock.

I may have zero experience to draw from, myself, but Gavin’s gentle, tentative lips brushing against mine is pure perfection. Then he pulls back, meeting my gaze with a smile and a sparkle in his dark eyes that tells me he loved that kiss just as much as I did. That my inexperience meant nothing.

And that he can’t wait to do it again.

We just ventured out of the friend zone and into something more intimate, and it was better than anything I’ve imagined. And Ihaveimagined it. Many, many times. I just never thought it would actually happen.

And now that it has, the thought of saying goodbye to him hurts even worse.

What am I going to do?

ChapterSix

Gavin

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