26 Kisses (24 page)

“Are you okay?” he asks, studying me.

“Your hands are so
warm
!” I grab them and lace my fingers with his, a rush of happiness shooting through me now that he’s finally here. “Come dance with me.”

“Vee—” he says, but then one of his favorite songs starts blasting over the speakers and he grins, his shoulders already twitching to the beat of the song he can’t resist.

Whoever made the playlist tonight must have had a direct line into Killian’s head. Every song is one we’ve listened to together at work, one I know he loves and has scribbled lyrics from across the Jeep’s dashboard. We dance together, but his eyes aren’t really focused on me. He keeps a respectable distance between us, never letting me pull him in close. He’s hesitant, wary. I don’t blame him, but I also don’t care that he wants his space. I move closer, pulling his hands to my hips, letting the neckline of my shirt slip too low.

I’ve lost track of Mel’s trajectory through the night—one moment she’s dancing right beside me with a guy I’ve never seen before; the next she’s over by the coolers, laughing with some girls from school. The only light comes from the fire and from the stars, giving everyone a flickering, impermanent quality. I dance most of the alcohol out of my system, and then, suddenly, I’m exhausted.

Another song starts up, and Killian launches into the most ridiculous dance moves yet, his long legs and arms everywhere as he does something that might be the six-foot-three white male version of twerking. He moves farther into the gyrating mass of dancing teenagers, and I let my fingers slip through his, retreating to the outer edge of the circle, sucking the cool lake air into my lungs.

The sand shifts under my feet as I climb the dunes, and the light from the fire recedes, allowing me to see the millions of stars that shine out over Lake Michigan at night. I find a big stick I can use to keep my balance and keep pushing myself farther, faster, away from everyone and everything. Finally, when I can’t hear anything but my own gasping breaths, I stop.

The Big Dipper rises up in front of me, and I remember the night Mark and I put glow-in-the-dark stars on my bedroom ceiling, spelling out the constellation
LOVE
above my bed. My mom and brother were out at a movie, and Mark and I had the house to ourselves for the first time. I’ll never be able to describe the feeling that washed over me when he shut my bedroom door and turned to look at me—it was like we were the only people in the world. The only point of existence in the universe. We had been dating for nearly six months, but when he kissed me that night, it was like I had never been kissed before. Everything felt so new. And as we climbed into my bed and did things we’d been waiting so long to do— I push the memory out of my head. It doesn’t matter now.

I sink into the sand and cover my face with my hands. The kissing challenge worked. I barely think about Mark anymore, and when I do, the regret and sadness just skim over me, not sinking in and lodging in my soul the way it did just a few weeks ago. I’ve still got Mel and Seth, I’ve got a half-marathon training plan and a running buddy, and an upcoming senior year of high school that will likely be totally kick-ass. And I’ve got Killian, even though, despite all the talking we do, I’m still not quite sure exactly what’s going on between us—or even what I
want
to happen. But deep down, I know I’m not ready to dive into another relationship quite yet, especially in the middle of a very confusing kissing challenge. I’m not ready to trust myself with someone else’s heart.

“Vee?” Killian’s voice floats over the sand, soft and powerful, the kind of voice that can change the world if it wants to.

“I’m here.”

Killian staggers over the rise of the dune and slides down to where I’m sitting, clutching his side. “Man”—he gasps—“I really need to work on my cardio. That was brutal.”

I shake my head. “I think you’re probably more exhausted from the dancing than walking the dunes.”

Killian frowns. “I can’t believe you left during that last song. It was epic.”

I shrug, picking up a stick and tracing designs in the sand. “I needed a breather.”

“Are you okay?” He leans in, studying me. “You seem . . . different tonight.”

I laugh and throw the stick as hard as I can, watching it fly through the moonlight. “Killian, we’ve talked about a lot of things this summer,” I say. “Santa Claus. Music. Lighthouses.”

“Shaw,” he adds.

“Yes, always Shaw.” I nod and turn to him. “But I think I forgot to mention I’m a huge slut. Maybe you heard it from someone tonight, though.”

Killian cocks his head to the side. “One, I haven’t heard anything like that about you. Two, I wouldn’t believe it if I did.”

“That’s because you don’t have any evidence.” I look away. “But what if I gave you proof? That I’ve basically been on a mission to kiss every guy in Butterfield this summer?”

Killian lies back on the sand, his hands behind his head. “Then I would say that doesn’t sound like something the Vee I know would do.”

“Well, it’s the truth,” I say.

He gazes thoughtfully up at the sky. “Is this the part where you tell me what’s really going on with you?” Killian asks. “Because if not, let’s fast-forward through everything else you were going to say and just get there.”

I sigh. “It’s kind of a long story. A long, tragic, pathetic story with no happy ending in sight.”

“Well.” Killian shifts his weight, burrowing down into the sand. “I’m just going to look at these ridiculously beautiful stars for a while. And if you were to tell your long, tragic, pathetic story, I wouldn’t mind.”

It’s so quiet. If I listen hard, I can hear the wash of the waves on the beach a few hundred yards away, but other than that, it’s just the sound of our breathing and the soft rush of sand flowing through my fingers. I close my eyes, but I immediately start to feel sick, so I keep them trained on the Big Dipper. And it takes a long time—most guys would have given up and left—but finally, one halting word at a time, I tell Killian about Mark and how much I loved him. I tell him about being so happy watching Mark graduate, feeling like things between us were just getting better and better, and having all my dreams smashed just minutes later. I tell him about the kissing challenge, the way I’ve been chasing after guys all summer, and my little brother calling me a slut. I tell him—only realizing how true it is as the words come out of my mouth—how kissing has stopped meaning anything to me, and how I’m afraid I’m never going to be ready to love anyone again.

Killian reaches for me and squeezes my fingers, then runs his hands up and down my arms, smoothing the goose bumps away. I close my eyes, rooted to the spot, completely unable to move even though I want to pull away, to tell Killian to run as far from me as he can because I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do anything but hurt him. But his touch feels so good, I can’t quite make myself do it.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and I nod. He moves closer, bringing one arm around my shoulders and pulling me to him. When I open my eyes, his face is right there, those blue eyes that are always looking for answers staring right into my own. I had never noticed the light freckles scattered across his nose, or the thin scar that runs just beneath his eyebrow.

“It’s more than okay.” I can barely breathe, but I manage to get the words out, and I bring my hand up to trace that faint scar. “I want to kiss you.”

He smiles and leans closer, his breath warm on my ear as he whispers into it. “So do it.”

“But I’m not on
K
yet. I still have one more letter to go.”

His shoulders shake, and I realize he’s laughing. “Vee.” He pulls back and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Tell me the truth—do you really care about that right now?”

I want to know what it would feel like to kiss him while he’s smiling. I want to lie back in the sand and have his weight on top of me. “No.”

“Well, then.”

That’s all he has to say, and the last of my self-control totally crumbles. Killian’s mouth is so soft, and he deepens the kiss just enough to leave me wanting more. We fall sideways onto the sand, and it’s in my hair and up my shirt, but I really couldn’t care less.

It’s over too soon, and then we’re looking at each other, the shifting dunes below us and the stars up above.

“That kiss,” he whispers, “meant something.”

And I nod, because Killian isn’t just a random guy I picked because the first letter of his name happened to fall in line with the next letter in the alphabet. Because he can quote George Bernard Shaw all day, and needs reasons, evidence, and logic to back up everything he knows. But that’s the problem—there’s nothing to show me or him that this kiss was anything more than two drunk people acting on their biological urges. I can’t prove to him that I want us to be together, that I really want to abandon the game and kiss only him for the rest of the summer. I can’t even prove it to myself.

“You kissed him, didn’t you?” Mel’s finally sober enough to drive me home around one a.m., just as the party starts to wind down.

“How did you know?” I roll down the window and breathe in the fresh air.

She shoots me a sidelong look. “You guys were out there for, like, two hours, your hair has a totally new thing going on in back, and you’re covered in sand. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were doing a lot more than kissing.”

My breath catches in my throat. “Great. So that’s probably what everyone else is going to say too.”

“Hey, if anyone wants to call you a slut, they’re going to have to go through me first.” The protectiveness in her voice makes me smile. “But first—spill. How. Was. That. Kiss?!”

“Oh.” I kick my shoes off and curl up in Mel’s car, belatedly noticing the sand that’s now dusting the passenger seat. “It was good.”

“I knew it!” She reaches over and tousles my hair. “I knew you two would get together. So are you, like, going out now?”

“Um.” I shake my head, the grin fading from my face. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean,
you don’t think so
? You like him. It’s totally obvious, even though you’ve been trying to hide it from me.”

I should have known she would figure it out. I shake my head, trying to clear the fog that seems to have settled over my brain. “I mean, yes. I think I do. But the point of this summer was to
not
get into another relationship, right?”

“Whoa.” Mel slows the car down as we come into town. “The point was for you to get over Mark, and I think you’re good there. So now you can do whatever you want.”

I fiddle with my seat belt as Mel drives toward my house. “I don’t really know what I want to do.”

She pulls into my driveway. “What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath. What
do
I mean? “Hypothetically, what would happen if I decided I did want to finish Twenty-Six Kisses?”

Mel turns and stares at me, her dark eyes reflecting light from the streetlamp. “Excuse me? I thought you wanted to quit.”

“I did.” I run my hand over my face. “I do. But I also don’t. You know?”

“Girl, I hope you’re still drunk, because you are not making any sense.”

I shift in the seat and pull my knees up to my chin. “Eight weeks ago I was lying in bed, crying myself to death. Now I’m way better. So it must have worked, right?”

“Yes . . .”

“And maybe for me to get the full benefit, I need to finish. Like when you’re on antibiotics and they tell you to take them for the whole two weeks even though you feel better after four days.”

Mel’s eyes widen. “Hey, Vee, you don’t have to convince me. I’m all for you finishing Twenty-Six Kisses if that’s what you want to do.”

I stare out the windshield. My house is dark, except for a soft light glowing in the living room window. “I mean, it seems kind of stupid to give up now when I’m already halfway through.”

Mel closes her eyes and sighs. “And what about Killian?”

Great question. Killian is so unbelievably awesome, and that is what scares me. He’s awesome enough that I could see myself getting in way too deep again. I need more time. Maybe he’ll understand.

Mel knows me so well, she knows what I’m going to say even before I’m sure about it myself. “He is going to be pissed,” she says. “He’s not going to get it, Vee. You know that, right? You might lose him.”

I nod. She’s right. Of course she’s right. But Killian is different from any other guy—any other person, really—I’ve ever met. Maybe he’ll understand I just can’t afford to get hurt again. And, more important, maybe he’ll be willing to wait for me until I get my head straight.

“You also have to think about what Jeffrey said.” Mel sounds worried. “If you keep going with this thing, people might start talking even more.”

I shrug and stare out the window at the woods flashing by. I’m so tired, I don’t even care. “It’ll be okay,” I say, pushing open the passenger-side door and staggering to my feet. “I’ll figure it out.”

Killian

The Dunes

???/l0

The next morning I put on a virginal white eyelet dress I know my dad likes. Today’s inspection will be extra-rigorous, and my head spins as I anticipate the awkward catching-up conversations and small talk I’m going to have to engage in with my relatives at the family reunion.

I meet my own gaze in the mirror. The pale girl staring back at me is nearly unrecognizable from the one last night with the sexy hair and kick-ass makeup. Ready to play just another role.

My phone goes off as I slip my shoes on. It’s Killian.

morning. ;-)

hey. :)

My stomach gets fluttery every time his name comes up on my phone. If I were a normal seventeen-year-old girl, I’d be drawing hearts on my notebooks and planning when to change my relationship status on Facebook. But I’ve been burned before, and right now I need my space.

have to go to a family thing,
I type.
i’ll text you later.