The Kiss Test (29 page)

“I love you, too,” I whispered. “And I’m scared.”

“Oh, Margo.” His hands were in my hair, on my face, brushing off the rain and my tears.

“There’s nothing to be scared of.”

“I’ve never loved anyone before.”

“Sure you have.” Chris turned up the wattage on his smile. “You’ve loved me this whole time. You just didn’t know it.”

My laugh came out like a sob, but I didn’t argue with him. He very well may have been right. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“It’ll work.”

I wanted to believe him. With every fiber of my soul I wanted to believe it would work and he’d never leave me. But so many people in my life had left me. How could I keep my heart from being broken again? I’d never cared before. Now I cared, and it was terrifying. “
How
do you know?”

“Because.” Chris leaned in and pressed his lips to mine so tenderly tears started flowing again. No one had ever kissed me like that before. Like it mattered more to him than anything in the world. “Because you passed the Kiss Test.”

“Other girls have passed the Kiss Test,” I reminded him breathlessly.

“And you passed the Bed Test.”

I raised my eyebrows. “There’s a Bed Test?”

Chris shrugged. “Actually, I didn’t realize there was until I slept with you. After that night, and morning, I realized what I’d really been missing all those years.”

“Me?” I guessed.

“You. Love. It makes a difference. It’s not just sex.”

I nodded. “I know. I was just—”

“Scared. I know.” Chris gathered me close. “If you’d just stop being Miss Independent for five minutes,” he said against my hair, “and let me take care of you—at least sometimes—maybe you’d stop being so scared. Maybe you’d stop running.”

Suddenly, I didn’t want to run. Not anymore. Not if it meant losing my best friend. I
wanted
to need someone. Chris. I wanted to keep my arms around him forever and not let go. I wanted to make love to him again.

It seemed like Chris’s arms were made for me as I squeezed him tightly against me. Elvis poked us until Chris pushed me away and retrieved him from my pocket.

Holding Elvis aloft between us, he gave him a little pelvis-wiggling shake. “Forgot to show you that move that night in the hotel. Maybe that would have kept you from running.”

I smiled. “So show me tonight.”

Chris groaned and checked his watch. “Tonight is
hours
away. I’ve been celibate for fifteen days, four hours and thirty-seven minutes. I’m getting blue balls.”

“Aw. Poor baby.” I rested my forehead on his chest until he put one arm around me and started walking toward my apartment, where I imagined, as soon as we could throw Manuel & Brothers out, Chris might make love to me again.

Chris gave Elvis another shake. “I really got to like this little guy on the trip home. Gave me someone to talk to. Reminded me of you. I’m thinking he might make a great wedding cake centerpiece. That is, unless you’re still allergic to the M-word.” For a moment he looked anxious, afraid I might bolt again.

Instead I took Elvis from him and examined him from every angle. “Too bad he’s not wearing the white jumpsuit. That would be much more appropriate wedding attire.”

As always, Elvis accompanied me in the shower. I lathered, rinsed and repeated to “Hard-Headed Woman,” which Chris deemed more than appropriate, since I wouldn’t give up my morning fix of shower sex. I didn’t have to wait for weekends to drag Chris into the shower with me. He came willingly seven days a week, even at 3:30 in the morning, as we soaped down each other’s tattoos, which thankfully weren’t at all the problem to my bedmate I’d originally anticipated. It was almost like Becker had known something we didn’t.

Morning was my favorite time of day. Actually, my whole life was pretty much my favorite. I’d worked hard over the past year to get everything the way it was.

Filled with
real
living. Friends, family, loving.

I bounced into the studio a few minutes before 5:00 a.m., greeting my producer, Rainie, with a salute. She managed to unfurl one finger from its iron grip around her coffee cup. That was the most I could expect from the party girl before seven.

I pulled the mike toward me, slipping on my headphones. I had the best job in the world, I thought, as I watched the pinkening sky out the studio window. Later today, I’d watch the sunset from the beach while making out with Chris on the sand in front of our Manhattan Beach condo.

“Hey, everybody!” I said to my listeners at the end of my shift a few hours later, back from a block of commercials. “This is Margo in the Morning, and you’re listening to KCLA, King Country, Los Angeles. I’d like to give a great big shout out to my mom June and stepdad Quinn, who are celebrating their first anniversary. Many happy years ahead, you guys. I love you. Also, a
huge
congrats to my big brother Rob Gentry and his new bride-to-be, Samantha McFarland. You have my awe, Sam. Anyone who can make a computer-geek hermit leave his home and turn him into a surf bum is a miracle worker. You welcomed me into your family a year ago, and now I welcome you into mine.

“And lastly, before we take off, I want to remind everyone about the Manhattan Beach Surf Party tomorrow night, sponsored by KCLA and X-Treem Sports West Coast. Need a new suit or board for the event? Head down to X-Treem Sports today and ask for the owner, Chris Treem. Tell him his best friend, Margo, sent you, and he’ll give you ten percent off your purchase because he loves his wife and will do anything I say.”

Copyright © 2010 by Shannon McKelden Cave

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