Kiss Me Tonight

by Emma Hart

  I was not. Giving. In.

  Especially not to my brother.

  “You’re so damn stubborn.” He got up with a shake of his head and headed for the door. He paused there before he looked over his shoulder and met my eyes. “Reagan, if you like this guy, you have to go for it. If I hadn’t done the kissing booth, me and Halley never would have gotten together. Don’t make the same mistake we almost did, all right?”

  I said nothing. I jerked my head in acknowledgement of what he’d said and held the cushion back against my body again.

  A few seconds later, the front door closed, leaving me alone once again.

  He had a point. I knew he did. I had, after all, spent years winding up both Preston and Halley about their lack of action with their feelings for one another. Yet here I was, doing the exact same thing.

  Being a huge pussy.

  “Ugh!” I snatched up my phone and opened the message thread with Noah before I changed my mind.

  ME: I need to tell you something.

  Now I had to sit here all damn evening, waiting for his reply.

  Actually, no. I didn’t.

  Instead of doing that, I scrolled to the group text with Halley and Ava.

  ME: I did it.

  Their responses were quicker than Noah’s as-yet inexistent one.

  AVA: You texted Noah?

  HALLEY: It’s about time. What did he say?

  ME: Nothing yet. I said I needed to talk to him and he hasn’t replied yet.

  HALLEY: That’s hardly telling him.

  AVA: That’s not asking him out.

  ME: I didn’t want to blindside him.

  HALLEY: I’m going to blindside you one of these days.

  ME: HEY!

  AVA: She’s right. You just need to get on with it.

  ME: I’m waiting for him to reply. It’s hardly me stalling.

  AVA: Yes, it is.

  HALLEY: You could have just started off with asking him out.

  ME: I’m regretting texting you two.

  AVA: As you should.

  ME: Mm.

  HALLEY: Did he reply yet?

  ME: No. I would tell you if he had.

  AVA: He’s slow.

  ME: No, we’re all just abnormally attached to our phones.

  HALLEY: I’m not going to argue that.

  HALLEY: Hey! Betty had her babies last night.

  ME: How do you know that?

  AVA: Because she’s the raccoon whisperer.

  HALLEY: You’re right. This was a terrible idea to start this conversation.

  I nodded, even though neither of them could see me. The only time the group text chat ever worked was when we were out drinking and we lost each other in the bathroom or something equally ridiculous.

  For general talking purposes? It was a stupid thing.

  I was about to type a response agreeing with Halley when a bubble popped up at the top of my screen.

  NOAH: What’s up?

  I tapped on it, bringing up his message thread instead of the group chat. My thumbs hovered over the screen, and I drew in a deep breath as I readied myself for my admission.

  This. Was. Ridiculous.

  I was ridiculous.

  Jesus.

  ME: It’s kinda weird.

  NOAH: I’ve come to expect a certain level of weirdness from our conversations. I’d be disappointed if there wasn’t a hint of it in every chat.

  ME: Good to know. That makes this easier.

  NOAH: Shoot.

  ME: You know when I was in the fire?

  NOAH: You were in a fire??? When???

  ME: Omg. Shut up.

  NOAH: Hahahaha. Sorry. Carry on.

  I took a deep breath and huffed it out. Insufferable man.

  ME: I was on the phone to Polly while I was waiting for us to be rescued and I kind of promised myself something.

  NOAH: I have questions.

  ME: …

  NOAH: Who is Polly? And what did you promise yourself?

  Of course.

  ME: Polly is the 911 girl who answered when I called.

  ME: And, um, I kinda promised myself that if I survived the fire, I’d find out where you lived, and if it was close by, I’d ask you out.

  I hit send.

  Oh, my God. I hit send. I did it.

  I blew out a long breath and sat back, staring at the screen as I waited for his reply.

  And it didn’t come.

  The clock in the top corner ticked over. Minutes passed until it’d been fifteen minutes and he hadn’t replied.

  I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut and punched in the throat. Sure, there was probably a totally reasonable explanation for why it was taking him fifteen minutes to reply to me, but who wanted a reasonable explanation when they’d just asked a guy out?

  I didn’t.

  I wanted a response.

  It didn’t look like I was getting one.

  Shit.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN – REAGAN

  Fifteen Pounds Is More Than You Think

  The store was fucking freezing.

  Usually, the cold temperatures didn’t bother me. I was used to it, after all. After nearly a week away, apparently my body had reset itself to factory settings.

  I tugged my hoodie down over my head and pulled my stool back under me. There was an order list as long as my arm that my mom didn’t trust Aunt Bethel to put together. I didn’t trust her to run the register, either, but she was.

  It was a miracle nothing here had gone wrong with her in charge—or that she hadn’t scared away any of the customers.

  I checked the first order. It was a bright birthday bouquet due for collection later today, and it was one of my favorite pre-set styles from the website. I got straight to work on collecting the flowers from the fridge, then set about assembling the bouquet.

  It was a good way to pass some time.

  I couldn’t believe I’d convinced my mom to let me come back to work today for a few hours. It sure beat sitting at home while my phone didn’t buzz with a message from Noah.

  I was more pissed off than I thought I would be. I mean, he knew I was going to ask him something. If he didn’t want to go out with me, all he had to do was say no. I wouldn’t be offended. A little butthurt, maybe, but not offended.

  I huffed a breath as I cut the bottom of a stem from a rose.

  Whatever. It was whatever.

  I wasn’t going to think about Noah anymore. I was going to relish being back at work, doing something I loved, and hopefully stopping Aunt Bethel from causing any trouble.

  She was meeting Halley’s grandma for dinner and bingo tonight.

  That meant she was in a feisty mood.

  Nobody—I repeat, nobody—needed Aunt Bethel in a feisty mood.

  I hummed as I finished up the first bouquet and packed it up to put in the walk-in fridge. When it was safely inside, I moved onto the second one.

  An hour later, I’d made my way through four orders and was about ready for lunch. My stomach was rumbling, so instead of starting on the next order like I’d wanted to, I grabbed my phone and my purse and walked through to the front of the store.

  Aunt Bethel was frowning at a customer. “I don’t know, dear.”

  “What’s up?” I tucked my phone and purse under the counter. “Can I help you at all?”

  Aunt Bethel nodded. “The lady needs several floral arrangement for an engagement party next weekend. I tried looking in the book but I can’t read your dad’s blasted handwriting.”

  I slid the appointment book over and flipped forward to next weekend. The chicken scratch on the book was instantly recognizable, but not as Dad’s. “Aunt Bethel, this is your handwriting.”

  The woman in front of us dipped her head to hide her smile.

  “Is it?” Aunt Bethel leaned over and peered down at it, adjusting tiny, half-moon shaped glasses. “So it is.”

  “And it says, ‘Party at Creek Community,’” I said dryly, then looked up at the customer. �
�Sorry about that. We’re short-staffed.”

  “Don’t worry.” She smiled. “Are you able to do anything?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  The bell above the door dinged as I grabbed a notebook and jotted down everything she asked for.

  “I don’t see why not,” I replied before giving her an estimated cost.

  She nodded. “That’s acceptable. Thank you—can I book that in?”

  “Absolutely. If you fill out this form, I’ll arrange delivery on Saturday afternoon for you.” I handed her the booking form. “There’s a stool just there and a space to fill out the form.” I pointed to the other side of the counter. “When you’re done, I’ll ring it up.”

  She took the forms from me with a nod and a smile and went to fill them in. I turned toward Aunt Bethel to ask if she wanted to take her lunch before me since I had to handle the customer, but I froze before I could.

  Noah was here.

  In the store.

  Nothing came out of my mouth. Not even a strangled sound. Just… Nothing.

  He stood in the middle of the store wearing the same clothes he’d been in when he’d visited me in the hospital—a white polo with the fire station’s logo stitched into the chest and black sweat shorts.

  “Hey,” he said. “Do you have a minute?”

  “I—”

  “She does,” Aunt Bethel said, then looked at me. “I can charge a card, Reagan.”

  I grimaced. “All right. Come on through to the back,” I said to Noah, nodding.

  Leaving my purse where it was, I scooted past Aunt Bethel and walked down the small corridor to the back room where I’d been working all morning.

  “How’d you know I was here?”

  Noah pushed the door shut behind him. “I didn’t. I’ve been just about everywhere in town until I ran into your blonde friend in the café.”

  “Halley.”

  “Right. I asked her if she knew where you were and she said here, so I figured I’d try it.”

  “Oh. Right.” I pushed my hair behind my ear and glanced away from him. Why was he here when he’d ignored me last night? Why didn’t he feel this awkwardness? “Why were you looking for me?”

  His lips twitched. “I don’t have a phone. Well, I do, but not my number.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Last night when we were talking, I was in the bathroom and started to run a bath. I put my phone on the side of the bath when I went to answer the door…”

  My stomach sank. “I think I know where this is going.”

  “Yeah. Long story short, Poosh is an asshole, and if you ever asked me something, I have no idea what it was.” He pulled his lips into a thin line. “My phone is a fucking doorstop. I went by the store this morning, but they said it’s going to take a couple days to get my number transferred to the new SIM card. I don’t have your number, and I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you.”

  “Little bit late,” I admitted. “I’ve been cursing you all morning and coming up with ways to torture you.”

  He nodded slowly. “I figured you’d say that.” He smirked. “I wasn’t. I had no way of getting hold of you, and I don’t even know your surname to look you up on Facebook.”

  “I’m barely there anyway.” I leaned against the table. “At least I can stop fictionally murdering you now.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  I grinned. “So you came all this way to find out what I wanted last night?”

  “Pretty much. I also never found out who Polly is, and it’s been pissing me off.”

  “She was the nine-one-one operator I spoke to when I was in the fire.”

  “Thank God for that. I once dated a Polly in Maine and I was beginning to think you’d tracked her down.”

  “I’m not that crazy, Noah.”

  It was his turn to grin. “What did you want to ask me?”

  Oh, shit.

  I had to do it face to face.

  I wasn’t prepared for this.

  My cheeks flushed with warmth. “Um—okay.” I made sure not to look at him while I said it. “When I was in the fire, I told myself that if I got out alive, I’d find out where you lived and if it was close enough, I’d ask you out.”

  Even though I was staring at the calendar that was just above his shoulder, I still caught the way his lips pulled into a stupidly sexy grin.

  “You did, huh?” Noah pulled his hands from his pockets and folded his arms over his chest.

  He did it deliberately. It made his biceps look good.

  This wasn’t fair.

  “Um, yes.” I cleared my throat.

  “And were you going to ask me out last night?

  I nodded.

  “Well, this is fun.”

  I glared at him. Laughter danced in his bright green eyes. He was enjoying this way too much for my liking—mostly because I was hating every second.

  I wasn’t a nervous person by nature, but there was something about him that made butterflies erupt in my stomach. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew it was a dangerous thing.

  “Have you changed your mind?”

  “About what?”

  “Asking me out. You said you were going to, but I don’t hear it.”

  I opened my mouth but again, nothing came out. Instead, I blushed furiously. Seriously, you could fry eggs on my cheeks. They’d probably come with a taste of face powder, but my cheeks were hot enough to cook them for sure.

  Noah grinned and, dropping his arms, came over to me. “Look, I’ll make this easy on you. I have to be at work in—” he checked his watch, “—twenty minutes. I don’t have time for you to stand here like an embarrassed goldfish, opening and closing your mouth every two seconds.”

  “I have no idea what you mean.”

  He stopped only a few inches from me and cupped my chin, placing his thumb so that the tip of it brushed the curve of my lower lip. His gaze dropped to my mouth for a second, making my heart beat a little faster. “Reagan, I’d love to go out with you. I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow. Pick somewhere to eat and let me know, okay?”

  I swallowed. “I don’t have your number.”

  “Right.” His lips pulled to the side. “What’s yours?”

  Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from the warmth of his hand on my chin and grabbed a pen and paper to scribble it down, then tore off the corner and gave it to him. “Don’t lose it,” I said, looking him in the eye.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He leaned in and, right before he plucked the torn paper from my hand, he brushed his lips over my cheek.

  A shiver tickled down my spine at the brief touch. I fought against it—I didn’t need him knowing how much one tiny kiss had affected me.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” he said, giving me one last flash of a smile before he turned around and left.

  It felt as though he’d taken all the air in the room with him, because the moment his steps fell out of earshot, I gasped in a huge breath and sat my ass down on the nearest chair.

  Which happened to be the floor.

  I blew out the breath and, cupping my hands over my face, let out a long shudder to realign whatever that shiver had knocked out of place.

  Because it’d done something. I could tell you that. Couldn’t tell you what, but it’d done something.

  Who knew a kiss on the cheek could send a girl crazy?

  ***

  “You have to help me!” I begged, pacing back and forth across my room. “I have no clothes for a dinner date!”

  “Okay,” Ava said, the line cracking when she breathed out. “Where are you going?”

  “Mario’s,” I said, referring to the Italian place on the edge of town. Noah hadn’t seen the beach yet, and even though Creek Falls Cove technically wasn’t inside the town lines, it was close enough. Mario’s was only a two or three minute walk from the access path.

  “Are you going to the be
ach after?”

  Sitting on the bed, I finally loosened my grip on the phone I had plastered to the side of my face. “Yes. So I need to be smart but casual. This is an actual date, Ava, and I have nothing to wear!”

  Yep. It was the latest inconvenience of the fire. Perhaps the most petty one yet, but an inconvenience was an inconvenience, after all.

  Talk about first world problems.

  “When are you going?”

  “He’s picking me up in an hour.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ!” There was a crash on Ava’s side. “And you’re just now telling me? What are you, Cinderella?”

  “I forgot!” I flopped back on the bed with a whine. “I autopiloted! Ava! I’m fucked!”

  “No. It’s fine. We got this. Okay.” It sounded like she was pumping herself up for a triathlon or something. “We can do this, Reagan!”

  “Are you convincing yourself or me?”

  “Both of us.”

  “It’s not working, Ava.”

  “I know. Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll show up with a haul full of dresses and shoes.” She hung up before I could say anything else.

  At least we were the same shoe size.

  Oh, God, I was going to throw up.

  I dropped my phone and got up to pace once again. What the hell was it about Noah that made me feel like this? It was as if I was going to explode. I could barely keep myself together, and I was still wearing my ratty old bathrobe that was covered with faded Superman logos. It was all I had here and honestly, I was more shocked that this hadn’t been thrown out.

  Okay. That was better

  Focusing on all the things that were weird about the fact none of my high school clothes had been thrown—