First Kiss by Tara Brown Page A

here
with servants and no family. It’s horrible but maybe that’s just it. He’s
scared that I will abandon him too. But who am I to him? I’m the maid who
doesn’t really clean much and not for a lack of effort. I do try—the
damned place just won’t stay clean.
    “All right then, let’s go back.” he sighs, running his hand
through his hair, and I recognize that movement. I know him, or at least, I did
once.
    I narrow my gaze, “How long have you been scarred?”
    He gives me a cold stare, “What?”
    I shake my head, “I just swear, I know you from somewhere.”
    His eyes light up, “You would never forget my face, trust me.
I have looked this way a long time.”
    I nod, “Alex thinks it's me killing everything too.”
    He laughs, “He’s an irritable bastard. Let's go get something
to eat.”
    “You want me to eat with you?”
    He gives me a sideways glance. I try not to stare at the cut
in the eyelid when he speaks, “I was thinking that maybe we should get to know
each other better. Me and you.”
    I cut him off, feeling the air with my hands, “Does it feel
crazy warm to you? I think this is the hottest it has ever been in June before,
and only last week, it was freezing.” I give him a smile, "I would like to
get to know you too. We can't be that far apart in age.”
    His lips play with his smile, “Living on the lake does wonders
for the aging process.”
    We laugh and I swear the scars are lessened when he smiles. He
walks into the house and leads me to the library. He pulls out an old board. I
scowl, “Doesn’t look like food to me.”
    He laughs and rings a bell. Heidi is there within seconds. He
looks up at her, “Snacks maybe?”
    I sigh, “Please and thanks, Heidi. Do you want any help?”
    She gives me a wide smile, “No, child. Have a break.”
    He laughs, “Clearly she doesn’t realize what you’ve been doing
all day.”
    I gasp, “Whatever. I was working.”
    He rolls his eyes, which looks creepy. There is no getting
past that. “This is backgammon and you will love it.”
    I sit across from him and look at the board, “Looks hard.”
    He shakes his head, “‘Tis not.” He teaches me to play and I do
love it. We laugh and joke and eat the delicious concoctions Heidi makes.
Before I realize it, it's night. I am cold and the fireplace is lit, but I
don’t recall he or I doing it. I don’t recall being cold before that moment
either. It is like a switch was turned. He is talking, but it’s not the
haunted, lost-in-thought talking. It’s sweet. He smiles as he speaks, “Lance
has gotten us all addicted to Nutella. We are eating it on everything and every
time we run out, you can see the mood of the house shifts.”
    I scowl, “Why doesn’t Lance just go shopping for more?”
    He opens his mouth, like he’s stuck for an answer, “We try to
keep our diet as natural as possible.” He looks confused by his own answer.
He’s so weird sometimes. “We only allow ourselves the processed foods every now
and then.”
    I laugh, “Is that why Heidi is so weird about the food
delivery truck? She never lets me help. It’s always gone by the time I realize
the pantry is full again.”
    He nods slowly.
    I yawn and stretch out, “This is nice. I never imagined this
house could feel so homey. But it does.”
    He chuckles, “Yes, the house does seem to come to life when
you are here.” In the firelight his scars make him look evil, but I know he is
not.
    I laugh and drink the weird spiced wine I can't seem to get
enough of. “Is this house magical? It’s beyond homey. It’s something else. I
have never been more relaxed anywhere in my life. I feel like I'm supposed to
be here and I don’t know why. And the house changes and the time seems undetermined. Like I can’t tell what day it is. The
clocks are always different in every room, and I swear sometimes I see
furniture that isn’t there.”
    He laughs harder. His eyes squint when he does it. He shakes
his head, “This