I broke away from Willa, panting for breath. She stood back and looked up at me with hooded eyes. Her lips were swollen and her hair mussed.
I’d seen it all before except it wasn’t from my dream. A night I’d forgotten came rushing back, fast, sending me rocking backward on my heels.
I caught my breath and scowled down at Willa. “When were you going to tell me that we’ve kissed before?”
“When were you going to tell me that we’ve kissed before?”
He remembered? Oh. Shit. I didn’t cuss much, but this situation called for a curse word, even if it was mental.
“Um, never?”
His jaw clenched. “Never?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Maybe someday.” No, never.
Jackson shook his head, taking a few moments to put it all together. “That’s why you were pissed and avoiding me. Not because I called you Willow.”
“Right,” I admitted.
The timing was ironic. On the walk home, I’d made the decision to let go of our playground kiss. Since Jackson was oblivious to that night, I wasn’t going to hold it against him any longer. But just my luck, he remembered.
I’d been hoping to avoid this conversation for all eternity, but the look on Jackson’s face told me there’d be no getting out of an explanation.
What I really wanted to do was run upstairs and bury my red face in a pillow. This discussion was going to bring on a whole new level of humiliation, worse than even the going-to-school-naked dream I’d had for two months straight my junior year.
“I can’t believe you didn’t fucking tell me we’ve kissed before.” Jackson was fuming. “When was it? At a party? At the bar? I assume I was drunk. I never would have forgotten you otherwise.”
That actually made me feel a teensy bit better.
I didn’t get a chance to answer because he slammed a hand down on my banister. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me when I showed up here that first night?”
“You forgot,” I hissed, looking over my shoulder to make sure we hadn’t woken up my parents. My embarrassment fizzled away as my temper spiked.
Jackson didn’t get to be mad. He didn’t get to yell at me. He was the one who forgot!
I turned and stomped up two stairs, leaving him behind with a hair swish, but when my foot landed on the third, I spun back around and poked a finger toward his nose.
“Why didn’t I tell you? Uh, why do you think?” I asked with an eye roll. “Do you think that’s something I wanted to admit? That a guy who I’ve known for years, the one who calls me by the wrong name, randomly wanders into a park one night and kisses me? Then the next day, he doesn’t remember who I am? Golly gee, I wonder why I didn’t say anything.”
I whipped back around and pounded up the remaining stairs. With the pruning Mom and I had done on the flowers earlier, I could actually stomp without leaving flower carcasses in my wake.
“Willa, wait.” Jackson’s footsteps sounded behind me, but I didn’t stop. I kept going right to my always-unlocked door and straight inside, slamming it closed behind me.
“Grr!” My growl filled the dark room.
I kicked off my flip-flops, sending them flying across the loft in different directions. Then I whirled back to the door and jerked it open.
Jackson was standing in the middle of the landing with his arms crossed, just waiting.
“You hurt my feelings!” I shouted, startled by my own volume.
“What happened?” When I didn’t answer, his eyes softened and his arms dropped to his sides. “Please, tell me. If you’re mad, you can yell and cuss. Don’t hold back, not from me. Tell me what happened.”
“You hurt my feelings,” I confessed again.
He nodded but didn’t say a word as I stepped through the doorway. Something about being on my doorstep, my turf, made admitting the truth a bit easier. That, and I just knew that Jackson wouldn’t run away, no matter what I said.
He was here to listen.
“I was watching the stars from the playground and you were walking home. You came over. We talked. Then you walked me here. You kissed me and the next day when I came into the bar to say hello, you called me Willow. You told Wayne and Ronny you didn’t remember much from the night before because you were drunk and high. That’s what happened. That’s when you kissed me.”
Jackson’s shoulders fell, but he remained quiet, sensing I wasn’t quite done yet.
“Do you have any idea how long I’d been waiting for you to notice me? How many times I’d walked into the bar and wished you’d finally just see me? Then you did and I was so happy. And then you forgot.”
He nodded, still standing in silence as words came out of me I didn’t even know I’d needed to say.
“You don’t get to be mad at me for not telling you. Of course, I didn’t want to tell you about it. It’s mortifying. The first person to ever kiss me forgot.”
His stoic stance faltered and he staggered backward a couple of inches. “The first?”
“The first.” I nodded, tears filling my eyes. I hadn’t meant to let that slip, but it was out there now along with everything else. “I’m not bold. Or daring. But you . . . you were my risk. I put myself out there for you and it didn’t work. So yeah, I didn’t tell you about the kiss.”
Jackson stepped closer, his eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, Willa.”
Why did his apology make me feel worse? Before, I’d only felt bad for myself. Now I felt bad for dumping all of this on him too.
I dropped my chin, drawing my arms around my ribs even tighter, like I was physically trying to dam up the tears. But the wounds were open now, my pain on full display, and the water in my eyes just welled deeper.
“Hey. Don’t cry. I’m the asshole here. I’m sorry.” His hands cupped my face like they had when he’d kissed me. A tear fell and he brushed it away with his thumb. “What can I do?”
I sniffled and stepped back, forcing him to let me go. With some space to collect myself, I pulled in a shaking breath and brushed away the welling tears. “I’d be okay if we never talked about this again.”
“Can’t do it.” He shook his head. “Not until I know this isn’t going to come between us.”
Us. U-S.
Two simple letters that made up possibly my newest favorite word in the entire English language. One tiny word that made some of the hurt wash away.
He didn’t want anything to come between us.
“It won’t.”
“Promise?”
I nodded. “Promise.”
“Good.” Jackson didn’t let me keep my space. With one stride, I was in his arms again and he was stealing another kiss.
This one was different from the others. It was careful and tender. He peppered small kisses all over my mouth, not letting even a little bit go untouched. Then he slid his tongue into my mouth in a slow invasion, letting his taste seep in behind it. After a few gentle strokes, he backed away, planting one last wet kiss on my lips.
He ran his fingers over my ears, tucking away a few frizzy strands of hair. “You deserved a better first kiss.”
“No.” My hands slid around his waist. “It was actually quite perfect.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know,” I whispered.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. So I stood on my toes, hoping he’d get the gist and meet me halfway. I was too short to make it to his lips on my own.
Jackson didn’t disappoint. He dropped whatever he was going to say and grinned before giving me the kiss I’d been after.
I kept my hands wrapped around his narrow waist, exploring up and down from that position. I pressed my soft curves against his hard ridges and used my fingertips to study every contour of his muscled back. He was so . . . hard. Everywhere.
From beneath his jeans, there was a definite bulge digging into my hip. Knowing that I was the one turning him on—me—skyrocketed my desire. I clung to him, pulling him closer to let him plunder my mouth until he finally broke away, panting.
“We’d better slow down.”
I nodded, though it sounded like a bad idea. All these years, I’d been waiting for a kiss, his kiss. The time to wait was over.
“Want to come inside?” I asked.