“You didn’t propose first; you proposed the grandest,” Kellyn utters, deadpan, as though he’s heard the words a million times.
“That’s right. I declared my love in front of the entire village. I laid my soul bare to show her just how much I cared.”
“People don’t marry so young anymore, Da. Besides, this one doesn’t like grand gestures. She hates attention. That would never go over well.”
“Then think of what would be a grand gesture to her and do it. Women are all about us telling them our feelings and showing that we care. Do that, and she won’t be able to say no to you.”
“This conversation is making me really uncomfortable.”
“Well, good. You should be uncomfortable. Love is uncomfortable at first. It’s terrifying and exhilarating. But that will pass. It will become easier and something that you need rather than want. And if that doesn’t happen, then you’re with the wrong person.”
“I know, Da.”
“Good.”
I shuffle away from the pair before I’m seen, my mind whirling with the overheard words. I had no idea Kellyn’s father was such a romantic, but that doesn’t surprise me as much as Kellyn’s first words.
I bring the water into the house for Kahlia before excusing myself. I head for the surrounding trees, near the hammocks, needing time to think. Birdsong mixes with the rushing river in a soothing tone. The grass dents comfortably under my boots, and the trees provide me cover.
But either I wasn’t as quiet as I thought or Kellyn saw me tiptoeing over here.
Because he’s suddenly there.
He looks troubled. “How much of that did you overhear?”
“Probably all of it.”
“I’m so sorry. My da is ridiculous.”
“I think he’s sweet.” But that’s beside the point. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shuffles between putting his weight on his left and right leg. “I’m going to need you to be more specific.”
“I thought you selfish. I was so angry at you for taking our money and not jumping into danger when you were needed. But it was all for your family. They desperately need the money, and they can’t afford to lose you.”
He doesn’t say anything, so I repeat, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because … it was easier to let you think me a villain than to tell you some sob story about my poor and enormous family.”
“I asked about your family. You could have told me then.”
“I know. I … have a hard time talking about personal things.”
Vulnerability. That’s what it comes down to for him.
“There’s so much love here,” I say. “Why would you ever leave? It’s safe and beautiful, and those children adore you.”
He steps forward a few feet to lean his shoulder against the nearest tree. “It’s hard for you to imagine, isn’t it? Ever leaving somewhere safe? This place is wonderful, and I love to visit. But it’s also stifling. I don’t want to be a farmer. I didn’t like any of the seven girls my age in the village.
“Besides, I wanted adventure. I wanted to see the world and meet new people. I would never have had that here.”
We’re so different, he and I. He wants to see the world and I want to hide from it. Here he feels stifled. Here I feel safe.
I wonder if he’s thinking the same thoughts I am in the silence that follows.
“Wait,” I say, looking up. “You talk about personal things. You made a point of telling me ridiculous nonsense about your feelings early on.”
He grins wickedly. “You mean my feelings about you?”
My cheeks heat and I look down.
“That’s not personal. Besides, it’ll never amount to anything because you don’t want it to. So why should I feel vulnerable about that? I do it simply to get a rise out of you. To see that lovely blush spread across your freckled cheeks.”
“I’m glad making me uncomfortable is so entertaining for you.”
He steps forward until he’s standing right in front of me. I stare at the triangle of skin beneath his throat, where his shirt is cut into the shape of a V. Then his fingers are on my cheek, and my whole body lights up in flame.
“It’s not that,” he says. “I hope that one of these times, you might not be uncomfortable. That you’ll be brave enough to try something new.”
I clench my jaw and look up. “I can be brave if I want to. I just don’t want to be brave with you.”
His head angles to the side, and his eyes are on my lips. “Why?”
The question is so sincere and so startling that I freeze.
Because he’s selfish?
No, he’s not. I know that now.
Because he’s arrogant?
Yes, but not overly so. I actually kind of envy that about him.
Because he’s so big and terrifying?
He’s never hurt me, and I know he would never hurt me.
So then, why?
Because this is new. Because I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how. It isn’t safe. It isn’t familiar.
I can’t tell if the next words out of my lips are intentional or not, but out they come anyway. “Because I don’t know how.” I realize then that my eyes are trained on his lips. I can tell this because they’re moving closer as he leans his head down.
“To kiss or to be brave? Because I can help you with the first one, if you’d like?”
The question might sound arrogant on someone else. But he says it so gently, so openly—in such a way that I know he cares about the answer, and I know that the rejection will hurt. Because this time, he’s really putting himself out there.
He’s allowing himself to be vulnerable. For me.
And if he can do that for me, can I do that for him?
Kellyn’s body halts in front of me, just mere inches away. It takes me a few seconds to realize he asked me a question.
It’s completely up to me if I want to be brave or not. And he’s showing me the way.
“Yes.” The word is the barest breath of sound, but he hears it clearly.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Kellyn is more gentle than I imagined he could be. When he lets his lips touch mine, the contact is so soft and expels the breath from my lungs. I wait for something to happen.
Does one suddenly understand how to kiss? Or does it take several tries before you pick it up? Should I feel swept up in feelings or something?
Because mostly I’m just terrified because I don’t know what I’m doing, and he’s just standing there. And is this supposed to feel this awkward?
As if he can feel the tension in me, Kellyn’s hands go to my face to steady me. No, to angle my head differently. And then his lips surround my upper lip, tugging gently. He pulls back and repeats the movement before turning his attention to my lower lip.
That’s when the change happens. Something clicks into place. I feel the tug of his lips all the way down in my toes. My fear evaporates, and there’s nothing but me and this boy.
And our lips.
And then I’m kissing him back. Because I get it now. And I understand why Temra always wants to sneak off to do this act. It’s wonderful and freeing and removes every other thought from my head.
No worries or fear. Just heat and lips pressed together, which turns into bodies pressed together. Kellyn angles me against one of the trees. And then he’s kissing me harder.
And I like that even more.
His hands slide from my cheeks to my arms, down to my hands, where he tangles our fingers and raises them high, pinning them to the tree above my head. The bark should be uncomfortable at my back, but for some reason it only makes this more exciting. Its sole purpose in life is to help me get closer to this boy, who has done nothing but protect me and try to understand me.
I want to protect and understand him, too.
I pull away to say, “I’m going to make you that weapon.”
His eyes take a moment to focus. “I didn’t realize this was a transaction.”
I grin. “It’s not. But I want to make you one all the same.”
“Only if you can do it while staying safe.”
“Okay.”
And then I feel stupid. The kissing was great, and then I interrupted it to say something stupid. And now the fear is coming back and the awkwardness and how can I look at him after this?