Stolen Kisses
“Because I didn’t want you to!” I rage back. There. An ounce of truth between us, First one in weeks. “I wanted you to kiss me.” It comes just as hostile, a little less fight to it.
Ava takes a step back, her eyes expanding as she drinks down my words.
I want to have a conversation, tell her how I feel, tell her how I’ve felt ever since that day she crashed into my world, but the words won’t come. I don’t know if I want them to.
But that perfect mouth of hers keeps calling, so I do the only thing I can think of—cover it with mine.
A moan travels up my throat the moment our lips collide, and my arms find their way around her perfect little body. Ava’s mouth is soft, hotter than a brushfire, and tastes like cherry soda. I want to die. I want to live. I want everything in between with this girl right here, and most of all, I never want this moment to come to an end. Ava tenses for a second before relaxing. Her chest molds to mine, and I go for it. Our lips linger over one another, slow as a dream, then without hesitation, her mouth opens for me, and I’m inside her, probing, loving her like this, sparring with the softness of her tongue as the rain beats down its punishment over us.
After Steph died, I’ve always felt as if the universe was deliberately trying to halt any shadow of happiness in my life—and this storm, these sickles falling over us feel like just another hostile contention the universe is throwing my way. But it’s too late. My tongue, my mouth, my whole body is invested in this kiss, in loving Ava, loving this moment, and I am unequivocally, irrevocably, very fucking happy.
Runaway Train
Ava
Breathe. It’s the first thing that comes to mind in a moment like this when all of my thoughts, my heart, my adrenaline commands that I pass out cold.
Is this really happening? Grant’s arms swim over my back. His mouth is fused to mine as our tongues engage in an electric dance all their own. It all feels unreal, like one of my late night fantasies that just happened to harness the power to come to life.
My hands glide up his T-shirt and mold over his scalding hot flesh. Grant’s body is hard as steel, cut with hard lines and textures I’m desperate to memorize. A soft moan escapes me as our kiss grows increasingly feverish. I’ve never been kissed quite like this before. In fact, if you lined up all the kisses in my short lip-linking career, they would amount to a peck in comparison to this monolithic life-changing event. I’m pretty sure kisses like these are reserved for times of war and unimaginably long separations. I’m not sure what’s gotten into Grant—God knows I don’t taste an ounce of liquor on him. I’m sort of hoping this is real, that I won’t wake up on a tear-soaked pillow one more night.
Grant pulls me in tight by the waist, and I hop up, wrapping my legs around his like a vine. He hoists me up until I’m sitting on his waist, our lips never leaving one another. A bubbling laugh works its way up my throat, and his chest drums against mine as if joining in with me. The fury, the unbridled passion, the sheer joy of the moment eclipses itself until we climb toward some unknowable zenith. I don’t know how many of these impassioned kisses Grant has doled out in his lifetime, but if the way his fingers are digging into my flesh, the way he can’t seem to get close enough, deep enough inside me is any indication, then I’m betting this is just as special for him as it is for me.
Grant spins me, spins us as this kiss morphs into a dizzying carousel of love, and I never want to leave. I’ve never felt so light, so wanted, so much bliss rolled into one.
A peal of thunder goes off as the rain increases its hostile oppression. But the world could fill with water and drown every person in it—God knows I’d be one of them, this kiss is impervious self-preservation.
There are moments in life you inadvertently bookmark—a song that reminds you of high school, a perfume that reminds you of your mother—but from here on out, the rain will always take me back to this one magical night where Grant wished I had kissed him instead, and then I did.
A light so bright flashes. It feels as if a spotlight falls over my lids. I pull back and watch the night explode with the brilliance of afternoon as lightning sprays its crooked tendrils in the sky above.
Grant groans as he spins me one last time. “I’d hate for you to get hurt.” His eyes burrow into mine, and this time that perennial sadness mingles with something just this side of elation.
“By the storm or you?” I’m pretty sure I know what he meant, but a stubborn part of me demanded I ask.
His hair plastered to his head with those hazel eyes of his illuminated is quite the sight, and I can’t help but tremble out a laugh.
“Both.” The smile melts from his face as he says it and so does mine. “Let me walk you to your dorm.”
“You could never hurt me,” I assure him as I dismount, and he takes up my hand. “When you have as many walls up as I do, your heart is practically impenetrable.”
Grant ushers us quickly down the street, our legs carrying us far too fast to ever be safe, until we duck for cover under the awning of Hallowed Grounds. The lights are on inside, but it’s late, and judging by the chairs hoisted up on the tables, they’re obviously closed. Whitney Briggs is all but a ghost town at the moment, so I do the only thing I can think of right here in the middle of campus—hike up on my tiptoes and steal a proper kiss. Our lips connect, and I come undone, lost in a beautiful ache only Grant’s lips could bring.
Grant meets me there with just as much passion, the same aching fervor we shared moments before.
Owen skirts the periphery of my mind, and I brush him right back out. No way in hell do I want my older, far too demanding brother to ruin this moment for me. A thin thread of fear runs through me at the thought of kissing Grant so brazenly in a public place. Yes, the storm has offered us a shelter that would have otherwise made this very moment impossible, but all it would take is one person, the wrong person, and Owen will burst a blood vessel in his brain.
We pull away and marvel at one another as if we had discovered gold right here in the dark cave of one another’s mouths.
Grant’s brows knit as that ever-present worry reprises itself. “Let’s get you dry.”
“Let’s get you dry, so I can see if you’re really that good or if you need the rain to help with all those special effects.” And by special effects, I mean everything. I pull Grant along to the stairs, laughing so loud, so hard, my cheeks ache.
“Those weren’t special effects, sweetie.” His voice thunders through the cavernous stairwell. “That’s how I roll.”
“That’s too bad,” I say, panting as we hit the third floor. “I was hoping I brought out the best in you.” I give a little wink over my shoulder just before letting us into my dorm.
“P-p-please excuse my r-r-room. Clothes are strewn all over the place.” Dear God, I have a boy in my room! A boy who happens to be Grant! I don’t even seem to mind that I stuttered the hell out of that last sentence. “And look, my desk light is on, because, well, Lucky is right. I never remember to turn the darn thing off. She’s convinced I’ll burn down all of Cutler Tower one day. Lucky is a little alarmist, but she’s cute and doesn’t snore, so I’ve decided to k-k-keep her.” I touch my finger to my lips because it’s obvious I don’t know when I need to shut up.
He winces into me as his hands find their way around my waist. “You’re adorable.” Grant lands a sizzling kiss against my frozen cheek. “And you do bring out the best in me, Ava. I promise you do.”
I’m paralyzed by his words. My eyes drift to his chest, and I suddenly find it impossible to meet his gaze. I know the weight that those words have with Grant. He would never have said them if he didn’t mean it.
Grant touches his finger to my chin and demands my eyes meet with his. That little alpha move right there solidifies that what I’m feeling for him is far more than some simple schoolgirl crush. I want Grant. I want him in every single way. Not just for a few stolen kisses—I want Grant for keeps. I’ve always been ten steps ahead of myself in every capacity,
so this leap from a kiss to forever doesn’t come as a shock to me. If Lucky and Harper were here, they would tell me to shut the hell up and kiss him already—so I do.
Grant meets me right there with his mouth warming mine as I walk us backward and land us onto my mattress.
My bed. I have a boy in my bed, and if Owen hears of this—sees this on the nanny cam he’s most likely planted somewhere in the vicinity, he will turn to stone and crumble to dust on the spot. But this isn’t any boy. It’s not like I’ve dragged some drunken frat brat to my lair. This is Grant—my best friend, my favorite person to spend every single hour with, my big brother.
A laugh rattles my chest as Grant lies over me. The heft of his body feels like heaven, and I groan as he laces my fingers with his.
He pulls back to get a better look at me, those perfect lips of his red from his hungry kisses. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re funny.” I loop my legs over his thighs, imprisoning him in the event he decides to bolt. “You know—the fact you’re getting off kissing your little sister.”
He winces. “Let’s shelf that thought for now. And I’m not getting off. I’m showing you how I feel because I suck at words.”
My thigh glides over the hardness blooming in his jeans. “You’re a big, big liar—but not to worry because I happen to find that terminally sexy.”
“Terminally?” His brows hike, amused. “Okay, so maybe I’m getting off, but with you beneath me, it’s impossible not to.” A dark laugh rumbles from him. “There’s something I need to tell you.” His mood grows heavy, and my imagination goes wild in the worst way.
My chest bucks with a silent laugh just as a horrible thought comes to me. “You’re not ch-cheating on your girlfriend with me, are you?” Just saying the words out loud brushes a stroke of sorrow over my soul, and for a second, I think I might cry, try to pass the tears off as rain.
“No.” Grant doesn’t hesitate with the answer. “We’re not together. She was just”—he blows out a breath—“visiting. I’m sorry if I hurt you.” His lips dip down a moment. “Like I said, I’m not great with words.”
“Says the English m-major,” I tease, but a part of me is craving the very words he won’t give me. “Sorry about that—the stuttering. It happens sometimes when I’m nervous. It’s n-not so bad.” It’s bad. Tonight it seems to be on turbo.
His mood deflates as his brows all but weep for me. “I don’t mind.” He dots a kiss to my lips. “And I promise, there’s no need to be nervous. I wouldn’t want you to be. I care about you, Ava.” He swallows hard. His eyes expand for the briefest of moments as if his vulnerability has finally been exposed.
“I care about you, too, Grant.” I do more than he’ll ever know, and then some. “Thank you for making it clear.”
All of time solidifies in this moment. A smile twitches on the corners of his lips. His breath peppers my face with kisses all its own, and I feel far more content, far more satiated than I’ve ever been in my life. Grant cares for me. He wants me.
“I’m glad that’s clear.” His chest expands over mine as his grin grows wide. “But I’d rather show you than tell you.”
Grant lands his mouth over mine once again, and I’m melting, pushing down deep over the bed until it feels as if I might fall right through.
This right here is the way to end a perfect night.
A rumble comes from the door and Grant jerks as if to move, but I hold him closer for one more second. The door squeaks open, and the two of us jump to our feet. A small part of me expects to see Owen wielding a hatchet, but it’s not my older far more disgruntled brother. It’s Lucky.
“Shit.” She fumbles for the overhead light before slapping it on. “What the hell’s going on?”
Grant offers my hand a quick squeeze. “Just making sure she got back to her room safely.” He makes a beeline for the door. “Night,” he offers Lucky a wave, but she’s too stunned to reply.
Grant and I head out, closing the door behind me. “Um—I’m not sure what just happened, but I’m sort of hoping it’s not a one-off.” My shoulders hike to my ears a moment.
Grant leans in, his hand gently cupping my cheek. “Maybe I can take you to breakfast tomorrow, and we can figure it out.” He leans in and touches his lips to mine one last time, and I clasp him by the back of the neck, forcing him to give me something deeper, longer, and stronger. Grant obliges on all accounts.
We say goodnight, me with a bashful grin, and Grant with those serious eyes speaking to mine in a language all their own.
I slip back into the room as Lucky pounces on me with twenty questions. But I don’t say a word. I let the goofy grin on my face answer them all.
“We’re going to breakfast.” I crash onto my bed and take in his scent still lingering over the sheets.
It’s real. It’s happening.
Grant has feelings for me.
I’m on top of the world.
Breakfast turns into a bagel run as Grant and I hop on our bikes and ride the mud-soaked trails up to the top of the switchbacks.
“Maybe I should have driven.” He grimaces, inspecting our mud-splattered legs, our bikes caked in brown muck. It may have stormed all night, but the sun is up and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Fall might officially be here, but this morning is a flashback of spring.
“Drive? Where’s the adventure in that?” I pull him over the stone bench that sits just this side of the lookout. “Let the bagel-fest commence.”
“Tell me something I don’t know about you.” He sits with his legs folded under him, and I do the same. There’s something undeniably romantic about facing one another like this as the sun sprays its orange glow over our shoulders, miraculously warming us despite the icy breeze.
“I hate bagels,” I say with my next bite, trying to keep a straight face.
“What?” He inches back, and I can’t help but love the panic I’ve induced in him.
“I’m kidding. I’m an open book. I’ve got like nothing to tell. I’ve lived underneath the shadow of my brother and sister all my life—the end.”
Grant’s eyes widen. “That’s funny because I don’t see your brother or your sister’s shadow when I see you. Not even a hint.”
“That’s because I appeared before you virtually uncluttered. It’s a freak sort of a thing you’re experiencing. My brother is at Briggs. He’ll put the kibosh on this good time soon, you’ll see.”
“And your sister?”
“She’s”—shit—“away. Working.” It’s technically true. Aubree has bragged a thousand times how they’ve crowned her head librarian of the entire correctional facility. For a second, I picture her playing the part of the sexy librarian just as that greasy guard comes in and has his way with her—and I mean that in the consensual sense. Aubree would no sooner have someone take advantage of her than she would rip their teeth out one by one.
“Nice.” That sad smile comes to rest on his face once again. “And your parents?”
“They’re off in their own world. In fact, they’re going on a cruise to see more of it. My brother and I are flying solo for Thanksgiving.”
“You’ll spend it with me.” Grant comes to life at the thought.
“R-r-really?” Damn. My cheeks blush ten shades, but Grant is nice enough to pretend not to notice.
“Yes, really. It’ll be fun. My mom doesn’t know how to cook for three people, so we always end up with enough to feed a small tribe. My parents would love it, and that way I finally get to meet your brother.”
“Actually, it’ll just be me.” I wrinkle my nose. “He’s taking off to New York with his girlfriend.”
“Really?” Those whiskey-colored eyes of his seem displeased by the idea. “What were you going to do?”
“I hear Hallowed Grounds makes a mean turkey sandwich.”
“Hallowed Grounds will be closed.” He pulls my hand forward and lands a kiss to the back of it. “Good thing I saved the day.” He offers up that sarcastic grin, and
I crawl right onto his lap.
“Good thing, indeed.” My mouth finds his, and we forget about the bagels, the golden sun, the muddy trails, and the icy wind. Grant and I tell one another our life stories one kiss at a time.
All week Grant and I acquaint our tongues with our tonsils every chance we get. On Thursday, on my way back to my dorm, I stop off at Hallowed Grounds, and no sooner do I step inside than I regret my decision.
“Ava!” Daisy does a spastic wave, but it’s not the fact she’s causing a scene that demands I spin on my heels and run. It’s the brunette by her side that has me twitching.
A body bumps into me from behind, and for a moment, I’m frozen in horror thinking it might be Grant.
“What’s up, chica?” Lucky dances around me until she groans at the sight of Daisy and Piper. It’s kind of hysterical when you think about it. My brother is dating Piper, and hers is dating Daisy. I suppose that’s not the to die for funny part—that would be the fact we don’t want to spend a single second with our brothers’ one and onlys. “Shit.” Lucky pulls me along. “We’d better bite the bullet.”
“If it’s a lead bullet, I might die. I’m part werewolf, you know.” Lucky teased me mercilessly after Rush—the wandering werewolf—took a few solid bites out of my neck on Halloween night.
“Get over here, girls!” Daisy pulls the two of us in for one giant group hug, and all but suffocates us in her candy sweet perfume. I, myself, am partial to Daisy, so I don’t mind one bit any scent she chooses to douse herself with, but I can hear Lucky gagging up a storm. “So, what’s up? How’s the b-o-y?” She tries to mouth the word, but misses by a tattletale mile.
My jaw practically unhinges as Lucky and I take our seats across from the two of them.
“What’s this?” Piper cocks her head. “Say it isn’t so!” Her mouth rounds out with glee. “Owen is going to d-i-e!”
“Well, I’m glad the two of you can spell.” I flatten my hands over the table in an effort to keep from tipping it over. “Maybe I should just l-e-a-v-e?”