word.
“You also said that you liked me,” I add.
Now her cheeks blaze red. She nibbles her lower lip but still doesn’t say anything.
“And you seemed sort of worked up over it.” When she parts her lips to surely offer a protest I cut her off. “So I wanted to show you that I…felt the same way.”
She clamps her lips shut. Then parts them again, her tongue darting out for a quick lick.
She is straight up killing me and doesn’t have a clue.
“You feel the same way?” Her voice is the barest of whispers. “I-I don’t believe you.”
“Hey, you’re the one who ran,” I point out. “Not me.”
We don’t speak for what feels like an eternity but really is only two minutes tops. I hear the horses rustling around in their stalls, the buzz of an airplane flying overhead. A soft little sigh escapes Reverie and she tucks her hair behind her ear, running her fingers through the rest of it so it flips out behind her shoulder.
I catalog every little thing about her. The tiny gold hoop in her ear, the thin gold chain bracelet around her right wrist and the ring on her middle finger. It’s a simple gold band with a single pearl in the center and tiny diamond chips flanking either side.
This girl likes jewelry. Gold jewelry. Her clothing isn’t fussy. No crazy patterns or frills or lace beyond what I spy on her bra. She reeks of money and class, of a girl who could have everything she could ever want. While I’m a guy who struggles for every little thing, who can never, ever have what he wants.
And right now, what I want is…
Her.
“You’re staring,” she whispers, startling me.
I smile sheepishly. “Busted.”
“Did you know that was my first?”
“Your first what?” I’m frowning again. Damn this girl is making my head spin, how she keeps changing the conversation.
“My um, first…” Her voice trails off and I watch her struggle. “My first kiss. From a boy.”
I’m shocked. Then again, I’m not. From what I can figure, she’s lived a sheltered, protected life. She hasn’t done much. Lived much. She’s terribly shy but so achingly beautiful it hurts for me to watch her too long.
And I’m the one responsible for her first kiss. A really crappy kiss too.
“Really?”
She nods but doesn’t answer.
“Huh,” I finally mutter because I don’t know how else to respond.
“You think I’m lame,” she says flatly.
“No.” I shake my head. “Not at all.” That is the last thing I think of when it comes to Reverie.
“Pitiful then.” She throws her hands up in the air and whirls on her heel to start walking away from me. “Pitiful Reverie Hale, never been kissed, never gone on a date, never done anything but live vicariously through books and movies like some sort of big loser.”
Speaking of big losers, I’m losing my chance with her here. Despite my earlier promise to myself, I’m chasing Reverie one more time, grabbing her by the crook of her elbow so I can spin her around to face me again. “You’re not a loser,” I tell her.
She blinks up at me. “I’m not?”
“No. I’m the loser.” I jerk my thumb at my chest. “I’m the one who gave you a crappy first kiss.”
“It wasn’t crappy,” she murmurs.
Well, what else does she have to compare it to? “I can do a lot better than that.” I sound way more confident than I feel but come on.
I can absolutely do a lot better than that two second kiss.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Definitely.” I’m crazy. Flat out losing my mind if I think I’m really going to get this girl to kiss me again. She should shove me as hard as she can and run. Or I should walk. This isn’t right, playing around with her. She’s a girl who deserves someone better than me. Some respectable kid her father approves of.
Not me.
“Okay then.” She pauses and my gaze meets hers. Watch as her gaze drops to my mouth and lingers there.
“Okay what?” My blood heats at the way she’s looking at me, and my hands itch to grab
“You also said that you liked me,” I add.
Now her cheeks blaze red. She nibbles her lower lip but still doesn’t say anything.
“And you seemed sort of worked up over it.” When she parts her lips to surely offer a protest I cut her off. “So I wanted to show you that I…felt the same way.”
She clamps her lips shut. Then parts them again, her tongue darting out for a quick lick.
She is straight up killing me and doesn’t have a clue.
“You feel the same way?” Her voice is the barest of whispers. “I-I don’t believe you.”
“Hey, you’re the one who ran,” I point out. “Not me.”
We don’t speak for what feels like an eternity but really is only two minutes tops. I hear the horses rustling around in their stalls, the buzz of an airplane flying overhead. A soft little sigh escapes Reverie and she tucks her hair behind her ear, running her fingers through the rest of it so it flips out behind her shoulder.
I catalog every little thing about her. The tiny gold hoop in her ear, the thin gold chain bracelet around her right wrist and the ring on her middle finger. It’s a simple gold band with a single pearl in the center and tiny diamond chips flanking either side.
This girl likes jewelry. Gold jewelry. Her clothing isn’t fussy. No crazy patterns or frills or lace beyond what I spy on her bra. She reeks of money and class, of a girl who could have everything she could ever want. While I’m a guy who struggles for every little thing, who can never, ever have what he wants.
And right now, what I want is…
Her.
“You’re staring,” she whispers, startling me.
I smile sheepishly. “Busted.”
“Did you know that was my first?”
“Your first what?” I’m frowning again. Damn this girl is making my head spin, how she keeps changing the conversation.
“My um, first…” Her voice trails off and I watch her struggle. “My first kiss. From a boy.”
I’m shocked. Then again, I’m not. From what I can figure, she’s lived a sheltered, protected life. She hasn’t done much. Lived much. She’s terribly shy but so achingly beautiful it hurts for me to watch her too long.
And I’m the one responsible for her first kiss. A really crappy kiss too.
“Really?”
She nods but doesn’t answer.
“Huh,” I finally mutter because I don’t know how else to respond.
“You think I’m lame,” she says flatly.
“No.” I shake my head. “Not at all.” That is the last thing I think of when it comes to Reverie.
“Pitiful then.” She throws her hands up in the air and whirls on her heel to start walking away from me. “Pitiful Reverie Hale, never been kissed, never gone on a date, never done anything but live vicariously through books and movies like some sort of big loser.”
Speaking of big losers, I’m losing my chance with her here. Despite my earlier promise to myself, I’m chasing Reverie one more time, grabbing her by the crook of her elbow so I can spin her around to face me again. “You’re not a loser,” I tell her.
She blinks up at me. “I’m not?”
“No. I’m the loser.” I jerk my thumb at my chest. “I’m the one who gave you a crappy first kiss.”
“It wasn’t crappy,” she murmurs.
Well, what else does she have to compare it to? “I can do a lot better than that.” I sound way more confident than I feel but come on.
I can absolutely do a lot better than that two second kiss.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Definitely.” I’m crazy. Flat out losing my mind if I think I’m really going to get this girl to kiss me again. She should shove me as hard as she can and run. Or I should walk. This isn’t right, playing around with her. She’s a girl who deserves someone better than me. Some respectable kid her father approves of.
Not me.
“Okay then.” She pauses and my gaze meets hers. Watch as her gaze drops to my mouth and lingers there.
“Okay what?” My blood heats at the way she’s looking at me, and my hands itch to grab
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