The Space Between Promises by Rachel L. Jeffers

simple act will cause me to rouse from sleep, long enough to smile and drift back into dreams. I've never quite understood the meaning of these Sleeping Beauty kisses, but I've accepted them and never asked why. Tonight, when I woke, the kiss was lost to him, and the satisfaction was mine, knowing that a kiss is the single most important act of love. It opens our soul, leaving us vulnerable, yet filling us completely. All of my efforts would lead to this one place. His desire to touch my lips with his. We made love the following night, and three times his lips sought mine, and I cleverly avoided them by nibbling his neck, breathing in his ear. To leave him hungry. This is where it would begin. And I could not fathom where it would lead. Risking everything and nothing at once. What a beautiful war this is. Win or lose. Either one would prove to be a victory, and I would emerge triumphant. With or without him.

Chapter Twenty-Two
    There would be dozens of men, and hundreds of meaningless kisses between Cade and Gregory. College parties would surrender nameless faces, firm bodies, eager to advance in the world of love. I would hold them all at bay, enjoy ing practicing the art of kissing on threadbare couches, fueled by beer, which I finally learned to accept. There would be clubs and bars, and there would be the beautiful black man whom I had never seen that I would approach in a parking lot and begin to kiss fervently until a few friends would remove me from his amused embrace and we'd stumble on to another bar. There would be kisses that I would never remember, a trip to a friend's apartment where I would vomit four pints of Guinness into his garbage can and pass out on his bed. He would be one of the many men who hoped for more, left wanting. Not with intent to punish or tease. Simply because there was no amount of alcohol that could separate me from my dream. To belong wholly to one man, and one man only. Miraculously, because of this, there was not a man between Cade and Gregory who begrudged me. Those whom I knew became friends who cared for me, and those who I had not known disappeared entirely. The trouble with this life was that there hadn't been a kiss since Cade's that was real, one that wasn't looking for something more, and there wasn't another man in the world, I was convinced, that I desired the way that I yearned for Nate, whom I had not yet kissed.

I had met Nate through friends when he was home for a college break. Although I was a hopelessly romantic, I never espoused the idea of love at first sight. Even then, I did not recognize it for what it was. I scanned the table, and my gaze fell on him and I felt myself pulled, rather than walking, to the table. I listened intently to everything he said, memorized his sarcastic smile, studied the sharp movement of his eyes, acknowledged his superior presence as he carefully outwitted everyone at the table, charming them with intellect beyond their understanding. Beautiful manipulation. Masterful egocentrism. Sensual vocabulary. A match.

I could think of no one but him for the months that followed his return to college. Every man I kissed was a poor substitute for the man who had thieved my heart, without me knowing it was missing and without him knowing he carried it. My fortune improved when he finished his final semester and began to work in the restaurant where a few friends worked. Weekend would follow weekend and we'd be out together, often the last two in the bar when 'last call ' rang out. We'd sit on a fence post until dawn sharing details of our family, the worlds that separated us. We shared nothing in common but our love of literature and writing, paired good looks, and an attraction that only I was not afraid to admit. And when the time came, following three shots of vodka, that I slid into him, pressing him further into the wall, kissing him, he kissed me back. I may have been encouraged by the vodka, and I may have boldly taken what I wanted without