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Authors: Rachael Duncan

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BOOK: First and Last
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December 2000

S
tolen moments.

That’s what Mia and I have evolved into. Like right now. The two of us lying in her bed holding hands, my thumb rubbing the back of hers. It doesn’t go any further than this, but we both know by the way we look at each other that this crosses the friend zone.

I don’t know, things just sort of shifted after my dad died last year. It was a really tough time for me and my family, but Mia was there through it all. She never judged when I’d cry and never left when I pushed her away. She was the light in my darkness and I’ve never been able to tell her how much she meant—means—to me. I started seeing her in a different way before that, but having her be there for me sealed the deal.

I want more.

“Let’s go do something,” she says, sitting up in the bed.

“Like what?” I’m fine doing what we’re doing.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. We could . . . ride bikes, go outside, I don’t care.”

“First, it’s freezing outside and I don’t want to hear you complain.” Winters aren’t too bad here in Tennessee. We don’t get much snow, but it does get pretty cold by our standards. “Second, your track record on a bike isn’t the best.”

Her eyes narrow into slits as she glares at me. “Are you still holding on to that?”

I look at Mia who’s standing next to the bike she just got for her seventh birthday. She’s in the middle of the street watching me, and a car is coming right for her. I jump off my bike and let it fall to the ground and run after her.

“Move, Mia!”

“What?” She’s confused and I keep running toward her. I gotta get her out of the road before she gets hit. Why isn’t the car stopping? Does he not see us?

Mia turns her head, and that’s when she sees it. Most people would probably run out of the road, but she’s frozen. She lets go of her bike, letting it fall on its side while she stares at the car. When I get to her, I don’t stop running, and tackle her out of the way. I put my arm out to catch our fall, but we hit the ground hard. It hurts all over and I feel bad that I land on top of her. I roll off of her and my arm is killing me.

“Ahhhhhh,” I cry out with my eyes closed tight as I roll around on the ground.

After a trip to the ER, it was confirmed that I had broken my arm.

“Am I still holding on to the fact I saved you and broke my arm in the process?” I look up at the ceiling in contemplation. “Yes,” I say, bringing my focus back to her.

“Oh, shut up.” She grabs a pillow off my bed and throws it at me.

“Did you just hit me?” I look at her with an evil glint in my eye as I sit up.

“I’m sorry,” she says immediately. If she thinks that’s going to save her, she’s wrong.

“Oh, you will be.” Grabbing the pillow behind me, I hit her with it. I don’t swing hard, so it barely moves her. After she retrieves the weapon she threw at me, we get into an all-out pillow war.

My stomach hurts from laughing and the sound of her giggles is music to my ears. She pulls back and swings hard, hitting me in the side of my face. Since I was on my knees on my bed, I’m knocked off balance.

I collide into her, pushing her back on the bed while I fall on top of her. I manage to catch my fall with my hands before crushing her, but as I hover above her in this intimate position, all joking ceases and it gets serious real fast.

Looking down at her chest, I see it rising and falling rapidly. My heartrate accelerates, matching her breaths. Our faces are inches away and when I bring my focus back up to her eyes, I see it.

Hesitance.

Curiosity.

Need.

It’s everything I’m feeling.

The tension is so thick it’s suffocating me. The air between us is hot, intoxicating, and electrically charged. It wouldn’t take much to set us off. I’m at war with myself. I want to cross this invisible line so damn bad, but I know once I do, there’s no turning back. It’ll forever alter our relationship and as bad as I want her, I don’t know if I can do that. She means too much to risk throwing it all away.

Mia blinks, breaking eye contact and the moment. I move off of her, taking my first deep breath since we both fell.

“I, uh . . .” I search my brain for an excuse, but come up short. “I better go.”

She clears her throat. “Sure, I’ll see you later then.”

I don’t look back as I make a beeline for the door, terrified I won’t have the willpower to leave. This isn’t simple touches and holding hands anymore. The lines are becoming more blurred and I know it’s only a matter of time before we jump over it.

But then what?

W
e’re playing with fire and we both know it. Still, that doesn’t stop us. Despite our close call recently, we’re still pushing boundaries. It stays with hand holding and secret looks, but I’m not sure how long that will last. We’re both ticking time bombs, waiting to explode. It’s just a question of who’s going to light the fuse.

Rolling over onto my side, I stare into her eyes when she faces me as we lie on my bed. Like her hair, they’ve darkened over the years. Where they were as light as the sky, now they’re like blue ink. My best friend, the person I’ve known my whole life, lies deep inside there. In a sea of blue are all of our memories, hopes, secrets, and feelings, and that’s what constantly sucks me in. My line-of-sight travels the length of her straight, petite nose, down to her full lips. It amazes me how they’re always the perfect shade of pink, like she has on permanent lipstick. But that’s Mia: a natural beauty.

Without thought, I move slowly toward her until we’re a breath away. With my eyes trained on her lips, visions of us kissing as part of our pact when we were eleven flashes through my mind. But this is different. This is real.

Looking back up to her eyes, I need confirmation that this is okay. I don’t know how to tell her, so I want to show her how I really feel about her. That I don’t want to be just friends. She doesn’t move, only stares. My lips reach out to hers and barely brush across them, moving from side to side just to feel them against mine. It’s like touching silk they’re so soft. Although she doesn’t make a move to deepen the kiss, she doesn’t pull back either. Instead, she mimics my movement and lightly moves her lips back across mine. We’re both in this moment of discovery, timidly wading through uncharted waters.

I can’t hold back anymore and make the final move. My mouth covers hers softly, gently caressing her lips. The taste of cherries hits my tongue and I decide that’s my favorite flavor. We start off slow, but things start picking up and soon she’s opening her mouth to me and my tongue accepts her invitation. My hands travel from her hip up her rib cage. My mind sends a warning signal, telling me this is wrong and we should stop, but I ignore it and keep going. I want this—I want her—so bad that it hurts. My only hope is that she wants me in the same ways.

Several minute pass by and they’re the best of my life. With us connected in this way, nothing else matters for me. A tornado could blow the house over and that still wouldn’t be enough to pull me away from her. As that thought crosses my mind and my hand digs into her hip, she pulls away. Her chest moves up and down rapidly as she catches her breath. I rest my forehead against hers as I try to slow my breathing too.

“What are we doing?” she asks in a breathy whisper.

“I thought we were making out.” I try for humor, but know she wants answers deeper than that. I mean, she’s known me my whole damn life. How does she
not
know?

“I know that.” She pulls back and studies my face. Her careful inspection makes me nervous, like she’s searching for something bad, something that would convince her to run far away from me. “This is a bad idea,” she continues.

“Mia, I don’t know how—”

“No, we shouldn’t be doing this, Blake. We’re best friends. What happens if we keep going and it doesn’t work out? It’ll make things super complicated and awkward, and I don’t think I could take losing you.” Her eyebrows pull together and she actually looks pained.

These are all things I’ve already considered and gone over in my head. I don’t know what I’d do if Mia wasn’t in my life. There’s always risk involved with things like this, but I think it would be worth it. Does she not feel the same? Is our potential as a couple not worth it to her?

Every time I’m around her, all I can think about is how I want more. I care about her. Hell, I’ve loved her since we were six years old, I just didn’t know it. Her rejection is a punch to the gut and instantly sets me on the defense.

I sit up and move away from her. “Yeah, you’re right. We shouldn’t cross the line. I mean, it’s totally stupid to think we could work.” My tone is cold even to my own ears.

“I didn’t mean—”

“No,” I interrupt her, “it’s for the best.” We sit in silence for a few moments before I break it. “I have a lot of homework to do, so I think it might be time for you to go home.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her mouth drop open as she sits up in the bed. I don’t bother looking at her. This is what she wants, so I’m going to give it to her, even if it hurts me in the process. Without another word, she rises from the bed, leaves my room, and goes home.

As I’m trying—and failing—to do my homework, all I can think about is the feel of Mia’s lips on mine and how things ended when she left. If there wasn’t something there, she wouldn’t have kissed me back. I heard everything she was saying, but her actions spoke louder than her words. She feels this just as much as I do and I’m not giving up until she sees that.

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