"Tenleigh." He leaned toward me, his breath just a whisper away, his voice strained. I breathed in his scent, a thrill racing down my spine. He smelled like a mixture of clean, pine-scented mountain air and something that must just be him—something that whispered to me in an intimate, secret way. Something I didn't need to analyze to understand. My eyelashes fluttered. I glanced down at his lips again. God, his lips were nice. And they looked so soft. Would they be soft on mine? My heart beat wildly in my chest as I waited for him to kiss me. He moved a centimeter closer and I held my breath.
"You been kissed before, Tenleigh?" he rasped as his hand went to the side of my head, his fingers weaving into my hair.
"No," I whispered, my body swaying toward him. No, but I wanted to be. Oh God, I wanted to be. I felt practically drunk with expectation. Would he touch me while he kissed me? Would his hands move over my body, under my clothes? A jolt of electricity raced up my thighs and ended between my legs.
I liked him so much. He was a boy who was sweet, but would take charge. My blood was buzzing, racing through my veins.
His eyes gazed into mine for several frozen seconds until he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled away from me. I let out a huge breath as I tipped toward him and caught myself, pulling back suddenly, too.
Kyland stood up and spun away from me, breathing hard. "You shouldn't give your first kiss to me."
What the . . .?
I blinked, feeling stunned, almost as if he'd just slapped my face. Humiliation engulfed me. I made a chuffing sound in the back of my throat and wrapped my arms around myself.
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Why haven't you ever kissed anyone?"
I shrugged, feeling hot, my skin prickly. I lifted my chin. "Never found anyone I wanted to kiss before," I said, going for nonchalance. But in actuality, it was pretty true.
"And you want to kiss me?"
I snorted.
Conceited asshole.
So not only was Kyland not going to kiss me—he was going to make me feel embarrassed and inexperienced? This was the exact reason I had sworn off men. "Not anymore." I stood up, grabbing my grocery bags and moving past him. But I was caught up short when he grabbed my hand and tugged. I whirled back around. "Let go of me," I hissed. "You're right. I don't want to kiss you. I'm going to go away to college, and I'm going to let a real man kiss me, not some stupid hillbilly who thinks his lips are God's gift to Kentucky girls."
Kyland let go of my hand, looking truly insulted. "That's not what I think."
I made a sound of disgust and kept walking. I felt flushed all over and I was shaking, trying in vain to dismiss my deep sense of hurt and disappointment. "Well good, you shouldn't. You don't have anything every other man doesn't have, too, Kyland Barrett," I called, and raced back toward the road and fast-walked all the way home. I had no idea if Kyland followed me or not and I told myself I didn't care.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tenleigh
The following week, on a blustery Sunday, I walked with Marlo down the hill. She was headed to work and I was headed to the Dennville Library.
"Don't stay long, okay?" Marlo said as we prepared to part ways.
"I won't. I just need a few new books." We tried our very best not to ever leave our mama alone for long in the trailer. Not that she would do something rash if she were taking her medication properly. But it was difficult to know if she was—we couldn't exactly force it down her throat, and counting pills hadn't worked. She knew well enough to hide the ones she wasn't taking if she decided to go off her medication. But either way, our mama was what I guess you would call delicate. If she wasn’t sleeping, she didn't care for being alone. Frankly, it was exhausting, but it was the hand we'd been dealt, and we did what we had to because we had no other choice.
I often wondered what it was like to have parents that cared for you, rather than the other way around.
As we stepped onto Main Street sidewalk, a man looking down at the phone in his hands was walking toward us. "Oh God, turn away!" Marlo hissed.
"Huh?"
Suddenly the man looked up. "I'm so sorry," he said, brushing my shoulder and taking a big step to the left. "Oh, hey. Tenleigh, right?"
I swore I heard Marlo let out a small exasperated groan. "Yeah. Hi, Dr. Nolan?" I glanced at Marlo and she had a small, phony smile on her face. I hadn't met Dr. Nolan before, but I had seen him and I knew he was a dentist who had set up a practice in Evansly. Apparently, he was here to save the Mountain Dew mouths of Appalachia—a valiant intention, maybe he could brighten a few smiles. I couldn't help but cringe every time I saw a baby sucking down a bottle full of pop. Needless to say, I cringed a lot. And evidently, most of his clients, if they could pay at all, paid in things like homemade moonshine. And yet, he was still here. And surprisingly sober.
The other thing I knew about Dr. Nolan was that Marlo had had a one-night stand with him a few months back when he'd come into Al's for a Sunday afternoon beer.
And that she'd ignored him since.
"Call me Sam," he said, glancing around me at Marlo. "Hi, Marlo. How are you?" he asked, pushing his glasses up on his nose. Frankly, he was adorable in a Clark Kent sort of way. His hair was parted too severely, he wore black-framed glasses, and a shirt buttoned all the way up to his throat. But he was handsome despite all that, and he looked fit. I glanced at Marlo, raising my eyebrows.
"Hi, Sam. I'm good. How are you?" she said, giving him a big, bright smile that was completely fake.
If a man was capable of swooning, he did. "Uh, I'm good. I came by Al's a couple times, but you weren't working," he said, his cheekbones flushing with color. Adorable.
I grinned over at Marlo.
"Oh. Sorry to hear I missed you, Sam. You must be busy with your practice." Marlo was speaking slowly with exaggerated formality. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better read on her face.
"Oh, uh, yeah. I'm swamped." There was an awkward pause that he jumped in to fill. "You know tooth decay in Appalachia is a real epidemic." He glanced back and forth between Marlo and me. "Of course, your teeth are beautiful. You must take good care of them. Oral health is so . . . You must floss well, which is great. It's mostly the soda that's the problem, though. Or pop as you call it here. And a bad diet, of course . . ." He grimaced as if he was pained by the conversation.
I held back a grin. "We've observed the problem. What you're doing is very admirable."
He shook his head. "Oh no, I get more out of it than anyone. To see a twelve-year-old come into my office with a mouth full of rot and then send him walking out with a beautiful smile, well, it's hard to explain that feeling. I have the ability to change someone's life, you know?" His eyes brightened and his voice was filled with enthusiasm. "There's nothing that compares to that." Clearly he was passionate about his endeavor. Adorable.
"Where are you from, Sam? You have an accent."
He chuckled. "I'm from Florida. To me, you have accents." He glanced at Marlo. "I love it."
Oh geez.