First Love (Winning at Love Book 2)

by Gillian Jones

  It’s the closest Kami and I have been in three weeks, the first time we’ve spoken. “How about you can be on my team, and I’ll keep you safe?” she says.

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way. I always did need protection from myself,” I say, and see her face fall. I didn’t mean it to, but it sounded like I was bringing up something else, something we were doing a really good job of avoiding. Hopefully, I make a recovery.

  “Let’s go, Terminator,” I joke, making Kam roll her eyes. Placing my hand on the small of her back, I walk us over to the rack of red vests where we suit up, and it seems we’ve both let it go.

  “You ready to kick some ass?” McCoy asks Eastlyn and Kami, who are both struggling to hold their guns the right way.

  “Sure am,” Eastlyn says, raising her laser rifle and pretending to cock it. “All locked and loaded.”

  “Let’s go, Rambo,” Coy says, and I break out laughing. Kami nudges my side. This is why he and I are friends.

  “Each game lasts twenty minutes,” calls Devon, “and the team with the most hits wins. Each numbered vest is assigned with a player name. That way, at the end, you’ll be able to see which players ranked highest.”

  With a beep, our vests come to life and the game is ready to begin. We’re just about to walk out onto the game floor when Kam turns to me, fake-racks her gun, and says, “‘Come with me if you want to live…’,” quoting Arnold Schwarzenegger’s famous line from The Terminator, before running off without me. I’m laughing so hard that by the time I’m ready to follow, she’s disappeared into the dark.

  “Let the games, begin.” Devon calls out to us from the threshold of the floor. I nod to Devon as I move past him, my own teammate my sole target.

  *

  It takes me all of five minutes to spot her. She’s about to be shot by Tristan. He almost has her cornered, with no way out, until I spot a corridor just on the other side of her. One I can use to my advantage. I call out “Cowabunga!” and pop out of the dark, distracting them both. I shoot Tristan and reach for my girl, hearing Tristan yelp in the dark and call me a bastard. Ignoring him, I swoop Kam into my arms, pulling her tight against my body as I bring us to safety down the narrow corridor.

  “Jesus, Keat, you scared me half to death,” she says, pulling out of my hold and turning to face me. Shit, she’s cute. Oversized vest, hair in a messy ponytail, cheeks flushed, gun clenched so hard her knuckles look strained.

  I take a few steps toward her and place my hands over hers, rubbing them soothingly. “Ease up a little, Hellcat. Or else you’re going to need me to stick to you like glue when you can’t hold your gun.” I rub her knuckles with my thumbs. She just watches, her breathing shallow, wheels turning, working on a witty comeback, I’m sure. I know I shouldn’t push my luck too much after a comment like that, but like the jackass I am, I lean in close and whisper, “Thank you.”

  She shakes her head. “For what? You saved me.”

  I move my mouth as close to her ear as possible. “For being here.” I pause.

  My breath catches in my throat when she answers, “Oh, Keaton.”

  “You were my birthday wish.” I drop a swift kiss on her cheek, then bolt away down the nearest corridor, giving us both some time to process.

  *

  “Gotcha!” Kami yells, jumping out in front of me, gun aimed at the centre of my vest.

  “Ah, Kam? We’re on the same team.” I point between her red vest and mine.

  “Hands where I can see them, Hatfield.” She raises her chin while still holding her gun in place.

  “Okay, okay. No need to get violent.” I drop my gun by its strap and raise my hands as she walks forward, a glint of mischief in her eyes. She pins me in place.

  “Back up against the wall, both hands above your head. And don’t you dare move.”

  I’m not sure what she’s playing at, but she has my (and my cock’s) full attention. Kami Sutherland is sexy as fuck when giving off a take-charge attitude.

  Positioning herself in front of me, I smile when our vests collide, and at the irony of the blockage our heavy vests are creating between us. When all I want is to destroy anything that stands in between us.

  “You.”

  “Me?” I repeat.

  “Don’t you get it? I can’t not be here.”

  “Kam?”

  “Shut up and listen, before I decide better of it and shoot you.”

  A switch has flipped. I need her closer.

  I reach down, grab her by the waist, lift her up and spin us around, pinning her to the wall. Our breaths hitch at the same time, our mouths so close I can feel her warm breath mixing with mine. Our lips are so close, one small shift and they would be touching. Her gun-free hand reaches up to touch my face, her thumb running along the side of my cheek. “I miss you,” she says, kissing the corners of my mouth.

  “I fucked up,” I deadpan. “Big time.”

  “Shh, not now. Just be here with me.”

  I move my face into the soft spot on her neck, a place that’s become my favourite. She smells like cake, and I groan because I want her so badly. We stay hidden in the dark corridor for who knows how long, her pinned against the wall, legs wrapped around my waist, while I hold her in place, staring at each other and having a silent conversation we both know is nowhere near over.

  It isn’t until we hear Devon shouting from near where we’re hiding that the game ended five minutes ago and we’re holding up the next group of players, that we manage to tear ourselves apart.

  “You got us into trouble,” Kami giggles, and it goes straight to my cock. I adjust myself after placing her gently on the ground. We stare at each other and something again passes between us.

  “Me? You held me at gunpoint.” I squeeze her ass as she walks in front of me. Then with a shaky hand, I reach for hers, and she takes it. Hands intertwined, we walk towards the exit. Just before we reach the threshold leading to the outside world, Kami looks at me then down to our hands. She lets mine fall from hers, and we head out to join our friends.

  I don’t pretend to know what this means, I can only hope it leads to a long overdue conversation, where Kami might give me the chance I so desperately want.

  What do I know? Maybe Captain Underpants truly is a wish-granting hero for all ages.

  I hope he keeps that shit up.

  41

  Forget Leaping, I’m Ready to Jump

  Kami

  “You were my birthday wish.”

  The words keep replaying in my mind. And I have to be honest, I’m sitting on my couch worrying my lip, because everyone knows you aren’t supposed to share your wishes.

  Specifically, the birthday ones and the wish-upon-a-star ones.

  I shake my head and laugh at myself, knowing I’m being ridiculous and it’s just a silly thing people say, that we aren’t now somehow jinxed or doomed because Keaton shared his wish with me.

  Still, I decide to take a poll. Clearly, I should have gone to the bar after laser tag…

  Me: I know you’re with Jer, but what’s your take on wishes? Share them or keep them?

  “She’s going to tell me I need medication,” I joke out loud to myself, only half kidding.

  Tucking my blanket under my knees, I decide to go directly to the person who taught me how to make a wish.

  “Hello? Kami?”

  “Hey, Mom!”

  “Everything all right, honey? It’s eleven thirty,” she says, her voice sounding worried. I feel like an ass, I didn’t think to check the time.

  “What’s your opinion on wishes?” I blurt, trying to get right to the point so she can go back to bed.

  “Kamilla Sutherland! I know you’ve been in a bad place with Keaton, but no boy is worth turning to drugs over…” I move my phone from my ear as my mom loses it, not letting me get a word in. Going off, saying things like “even Keaton…I will find him and…Katie…your father…enough!” After laughing, I decide I’d better stop her before she not only has a hea
rt attack, but also before she organizes a stint in rehab for her daughter and a witch hunt for the man who put her there.

  “Mom!” I shout into the phone. “No drugs! You need to calm down.”

  She’s silent for a moment. “Well…good. I didn’t think that boy would drag you into something like that. I told you he cared too much.”

  Jesus, why did I call?

  “I saw him tonight,” I admit. I’ve spoken to my mother a few times about Keaton and I since everything went to shit. And, of course, she keeps saying it will all work out.

  “Oh right, Katie mentioned some laser wrestling thingy?”

  “Tag, Mom.”

  “Same thing,” she coos, and I let it go, not bothering to correct her. I fill her in on tonight, listening to her squeal and tell me how Belle will be over the moon. “I think the trip to Cancun will help the two of you, as well. You know the saying about absence and the heart. That’ll help, I’m sure.” My mom continues to drone on about the trip Eastlyn, a few girls from work, and I have planned for our upcoming March break. I hadn’t thought about it but she’s right. It might just help, me especially, if Keaton and I can’t work things out.

  “So, about wishes, Ma? Think sharing them or keeping them a secret makes a difference as to whether they’ll come true or not?”

  “Oh, honey, it doesn’t matter. Some believe sharing them is the best way to make them come true. It’s all silly traditions, tales, and fun. Nothing to put too much worry into.”

  Easy for her to say, it’s not a wish about her on the line. Jesus, I do sound like I’m on drugs.

  Thinking about it, I kind of like what mom suggested. Sharing your wish might give it more energy to come true, because it allows others to believe in it. Holy hell, do I ever believe Keaton’s wish should come true! And maybe, just maybe, that’s why he told me. I have my aha moment, and I feel so much relief.

  Man, I really need to get out more.

  “Thanks, Mom. ’Night. Love you.”

  “Call any time. Love you too, sweetheart.”

  Ping!

  I expect it to be Jane.

  It’s not.

  It’s Keaton. I feel my stomach dip. It’s been so long since we’ve done any late-night texting. It’s something about us that I’ve missed the most. I seem to sleep a little lighter when his words are the last thing I see before I close my eyes.

  Keaton: Thanks for coming tonight. Your protection services are best in the biz, Terminator!

  I read the text, shaking my head. Such a little shit.

  Me: Think I should expand globally? Or too soon?

  Keaton: Not sure you should quit your day job just yet.

  Me: Hey! I rocked laser tag and you know it.

  Keaton: You threatened your own teammate!

  Me: I think you’ve taken one too many laser beams to the head. I got skills.

  Keaton: Hardly! Still glad you came, all the same.

  I’ve never missed one of Keaton’s birthdays, and I wasn’t going to start now, even though for the first time ever, I had considered it. Thankfully, things weren’t as awkward as I thought they’d be. Eastlyn worked really hard reassuring me all week that they wouldn’t be, and she was right. How could she have been wrong? It’s Keaton and me. No matter what happens, deep down we’ll always be in each other’s lives in whatever capacity.

  I glance at the clock. 11:57 p.m.

  Me: Me too. Happy Birthday!

  Keaton: It would be even happier if you’d open the door.

  Me: What? You’re here?

  Keaton: Yeah, I was in the neighbourhood.

  Me: Did you guys not go to Brass Tapps?

  They’d talked about everyone going for a few drinks after laser tag, but by the time Keaton and I walked out after our last game, I needed some space. We needed to talk again before I let myself slip into the same routine which had led us here, to limbo.

  Keaton: We did. I had a drink, but something was missing, so I decided to cut the night short.

  Me: That’s cryptic.

  Keaton: Kam?

  Me: Didn’t everybody go?

  Keaton: Kami, sometimes you’re not very quick.

  Me: Whatever, I’m amazing.

  Keaton: You are, but still, you have deficiencies in reading between the lines.

  Me: Your birthday is officially over. I don’t have to be nice anymore, you know?

  Keaton: Easy, Hellcat. Hey, Kam…

  Me: Yeah?

  Keaton: *You’re* what was missing.

  Me: Keat.

  Keaton: Sooooo, you gonna let me in now, or what?

  Me: OMG, I’m coming. Sorry!!!

  I toss my phone on the bedroom floor and race across the house. I can hear Keaton laughing from the other side of the door as I approach.

  Swinging it open, I smile nervously. “Shit, I forgot you were actually out here, I was so wrapped up in our texting.”

  Keaton Hatfield standing on my porch, illuminated by the moon, is virility personified. His tall, broad frame is showcased by a tight-fitting leather jacket; his light blond hair messy, as if he’s been pulling at it for hours; his usual stop-people-in-their-tracks handsome face is a definite sight for my sore eyes. I didn’t get nearly my fill tonight. Right now, the way he looks, I don’t want to stop and stare. Nah, I want to rush him and leap into his strong arms. His chiseled jaw, his sinful mouth with those perfectly soft, kissable lips. Lips which are currently curled into a relieved smile, sitting below those moss-coloured eyes that always hold me captive with their scrutiny. But that’s not all Keaton has to offer. No, he’s ambitious, determined, kind, and, loyal.

  His gaze lands on me, taking me in, regarding me in the same light, as if it’s been a lifetime since he’s seen me. And in our lifetime, it certainly feels that way. We’ve never been apart this long. Keaton stands on my porch in silence as his eyes track my body, taking in my bare legs and grey sleep shorts, moving up to my chest, landing on my size-too-small “Goonies Never Say Die” T-shirt, the one I refuse to part with. Also the same one, I’m sure, currently hinting at the exact location of my piercings.

  “Was I really your wish?” is all I can think to say.

  “It’s all I want.”

  “You know, some people believe that if you share your wish, it won’t come true,” I cluck, still standing with the door half open. The cool, late-February night’s air feels virtually non-existent while I’m under his regard.

  A smile lights up his somewhat-stoic face. “I hadn’t heard that. What do you believe?”

  “I believe that if you share them, they have a better chance of coming true,” I say, matter-of-factly.

  “That so?” he asks, sounding amused.

  “I feel a sudden, strong conviction about this belief, actually.” I drop my eyes to his mouth, and I can feel the pull that’s always existed between us start to spark back to life.

  This is what we need.

  This is how we find the us we are, and the us I know deep down in my marrow we’re destined to be. We just need to be us, and our hearts will find their way.

  He steps closer to the entrance, to me. Our eyes zero in on one another without blinking or wavering.

  “That works out really well for me, then.” He pauses, and steps in, eliminating any and all space. Our chests touch, the soft leather teasing the barbells underneath my thin T. Feeling him this close ignites all of my senses. “To think I could have jeopardized the one thing I want most over something so stupid,” he says, tilting my chin just so—our lips so close, yet not close enough.

  “Imagine?” I whisper, never taking my eyes off his. I see it, the love, the uncertainty and the fear I’m feeling, too, reflected right there in his eyes.

  “I don’t have to imagine it. I’ve been feeling it.”

  “Keaton.”

  “Kam, I’m so sorry.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling me in tight. Without hesitation, my arms loop around his neck and anchor myself to him.

  We stand in
an embrace, half inside, half outside my house, the same way we’ve stood for so long on the cusp of something more, and not more.

  Only this time we’re not teetering.

  And I’m done trying to balance on top of Jane’s pisspot. I’m going to jump off it, and I’m hoping Keaton will catch me.

  “Come in, let’s talk,” I say, taking the first step towards my final leap.

  42

  Feels Like a Forever Kind of Thing

  Keaton

  “Come in, let’s talk,” Kami says, and I feel so much relief.

  My nerves kick in, this is it. My chance.

  I trail behind her into the living room. We only make it a few steps before the need to feel her in my arms becomes too much.

  “Kamilla, stop.”

  She halts mid-step. I move in from behind, curving my arms around her waist like I have the right to, and I guess in some way I do because I know she’s mine. And by the time I leave here tonight, she’ll know it, too.

  “I have a lot to say to you,” I whisper into her neck, making no effort to hide as I inhale her scent, allowing it to give me strength. Her smell overwhelms my already botched nerves, a sweet combination of cinnamon and pumpkin, a smell I look for and crave in her absence. A smell I want on my clothes, on my sheets, and lingering in the air of my house in her wake.

  “Me too.” She turns her head to one side, giving me better access to the soft skin of her neck.

  “Never again,” I whisper, my head leaned in close to her ear. “Never happening again,” I repeat. I hear her release a tiny gasp. “Never again will I let you think you and me are just friends, because what we are, Kami, is so much more.” I smooth one hand from around her waist up her stomach to above her heart. Flattening my palm against her chest, I feel her heartbeat kick up, matching my own. “I want what’s in here: your heart, your kindness, and most of all, your forgiveness for me being an asshole.”

  “It wasn’t all yo—”

  “I’m not done.” I nip at her cheek, and her ass cheeks brush against my cock, stirring him to life, and he makes himself known. Even if it’s not yet the time.