She didn’t move away, nor did she agree. So I stood there with my hand on her glasses, pleading with my eyes for a single glimpse of hers.
She did something better.
Her tongue made an encore against her lips—just before it ruined me for life.
She pushed my hands away then sealed her mouth over mine.
My eyes popped open in shock for only the briefest of seconds. Then a moan rumbled in my chest as she opened her mouth and twisted her tongue with mine.
She tasted like mangos, and I fucking devoured her like a man starved.
For as many cigarettes as I’d smoked while waiting for her, I probably tasted like an ashtray. But I could apologize for that later. I wasn’t stopping any time soon.
Her tongue swirled as I took the kiss deeper.
Suddenly, she pushed off my chest and took a step away. “Fuck. Shit. I can’t believe I did that. What the fuck is wrong with me?”
My head was spinning, and her words sounded a whole lot like insults, but I still followed her forward.
“I’m standing right here,” I reminded her. “Can you possibly check the freak-out for after you sleep with me on our first date?”
“Oh God,” she groaned.
I tugged her back against me. I wasn’t letting go no matter what her reaction might be. Not after that small sampling.
“I’m kidding! Jesus, lighten up.”
“I’m sorry. About…” She dropped her head to my shoulder.
“Stop apologizing and grab a drink with me. I’ll even find a place with really bright lights so you won’t even have to take the shades off,” I joked, and she rewarded my efforts with quiet giggle.
At the sound, an unfamiliar high whirled through my mind. It rivaled anything tobacco could ever give me.
“Sam, I need to go. But I promise I’ll be here tomorrow night. Okay?”
It was my turn to groan.
No name.
No eyes.
Just a promise I didn’t want her to keep.
I wanted her to be absolutely anywhere but on that bridge tomorrow night.
But I also just wanted her to be with me.
“Okay,” I replied, begrudgingly releasing her.
She began backing away, and I could feel her hidden gaze locked on me.
“Thanks for tonight,” she said. “Let me know if you change your mind about the dry-cleaning.”
“How about this? I’ll trade you my jacket for your wig and sunglasses!” I yelled as she got farther away.
A smile lifted one corner of her mouth. A mouth I now knew and desperately wanted to taste again.
“Goodnight, Sam.” She waved her hand before heading to a parked black SUV and climbing into…the backseat?
Interesting.
“Goodnight, Designer Shoes,” I whispered to myself as her vehicle left the parking area with the silhouette of a man behind the wheel.
An unnatural rage flooded my veins.
What the fuck?
WHAT THE FUCK had I done? Oh, that’s right. I’d kissed Sam.
A freaking stranger.
Who was suicidal!
While standing on a bridge.
While he’d thought I was suicidal as well.
But, worse than all of that, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I’d replayed it in my mind at least a thousand times since I’d walked away from him.
I’d made poor choices with men in the past. I was far from the angel the media portrayed me as. But I had a sneaking suspicion that, if the news outlets got ahold of this little story, it wouldn’t have the romantic spin my stomach took every time I thought about the moment his lips had touched mine.
My steps were a little lighter that night while I was performing for thousands on stage. My thoughts weren’t filled with dread and guilt. Instead, they were focused on the top of that bridge? waiting for the moment I could return.
To Sam.
The show was entirely too long, but I snuck out of the backstage after party about thirty excruciating seconds after it’d started. Like a Freudian slip, I left my wig at home. I should have stopped to pick it up or at least checked to see if my stylist had something I could borrow, but after the concert that night, I just wanted some fresh air and a few moments alone.