Last First Kiss: A Second Chance Standalone Romance

by Jane Anthony

  “We all know she’s too good for him, but she needs to realize it herself. Wren’s far too obstinate to have it any other way.”

  Erika drops her hand to the crack between the seat and the console. Looking down, she clips her brows, pulling out the art class pamphlet. “What’s this?” she asks, opening the flap.

  I glance over as I cross over the invisible border back into Creek Falls.

  “Are you taking art classes?”

  “I’ve taken a few, yeah.”

  She slaps my leg with the pamphlet. “You fucker! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I shrug. “I dunno. Guess I didn’t think you’d care?”

  An exaggerated frown pulls her lips. “You think I don’t care?”

  “Do you? I mean, you’re barely around. Ever since I got back, it’s like you’re making it your job to stay as far from the house as humanly possible.”

  She jams her fingers into her hair again, scratching her scalp from top to bottom as she flips her hair. “I don’t like being around Mom,” she admits in a quiet voice. “It hurts too much to see her like that.”

  Reaching out, I wrap my hand around her small one. “I know. It hurts me, too.”

  “Our family is so fucked up, Jess. I’m trying so hard not to be like that, you know?”

  “I do. But running away from it isn’t going to make that happen. Trust me on that one.”

  She looks up, tightening her thumb. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m really happy you’re back. Growing up without you . . .” She trails off, clearing her throat before starting again. “I know why you left, and I don’t blame you, but I missed my big brother.”

  I pull into our driveway and throw the truck in park. Red rings her crystal eyes. “I missed you, too,” I say, sliding my arm across her shoulders. “Even though you’re a pain in my ass.”

  “That’s what little sisters do.” She snickers. “I’ll try to help out more, okay?”

  I nod and reach for the handle, but her hand on my arm stops me.

  “And I want you to promise not to give up on Wren. She’s good for you.”

  “I promise,” I tell her, taking the pamphlet from her lap. “If you promise not to make a big deal about this.”

  Her sad expression quirks in a mischievous grin. “Afraid she’s gonna make fun of you?”

  “Absolutely.” I laugh as she pushes open the door, but I don’t make a move to get out.

  “You coming?”

  “Yeah. Give me a minute.”

  With a terse nod, she jumps from the truck and bounds into the house, golden tendrils bouncing behind her. I open the console and pull out my phone. My fingers dance over the keypad, typing in Wren’s number from memory.

  “Hey, it’s Wren. You’ve reached my cell phone. Leave me a message. Thanks, bye.”

  The way she punctuates the "cell phone" makes me grin. I wait for the beep, wearing my heart on sleeve.

  “Hey, Bird. Uh . . . I hate these damn messages. But . . . um . . . I just wanted to apologize for earlier. What can I say? I’m an idiot. Your friendship means a lot to me, and I just . . . I dunno. Call me later.”

  My chest already feels lighter as I disconnect the call and saunter into the house.

  CHAPTER 11

  Wren

  HEAVY BASS THUMPS OVERHEAD, vibrating the floor under my feet. Allison’s standing next to me, swaying her hips to the infectious beat. “Don’t look now, but that guy over there is seriously checking you out,” I tell her, leaning in for another sip of the vodka cranberry melting in my hand.

  “Doubtful. It’s more likely that he’s staring at you in that dress.”

  I reach up and subconsciously touch the barely there neckline of the dress Allison bought me for my birthday. The plunging V-line crisscrosses my chest and hugs my curves down to mid-thigh. “No, I’m serious. He’s making hard eyes at you. He’s cute, too.”

  She chucks a glance over her shoulder. When the guy smiles, she quickly looks back. “Holy shit, he looks like Keanu Reeves.”

  “Who looks like Keanu Reeves?” Jesse returns from the men’s room. The bartender saunters over, and Jesse lifts his empty bottle, gesturing for the guy to bring him another beer. Our little spat last month is water under the bridge, but things have felt weird ever since. He’s more guarded than usual. Secretive. I see the wheels turning behind his eyes, but he doesn’t say much. He claims everything between us is fine, but deep inside, I fear I’m losing him.

  “That guy over there looking at Allison,” I reply to Jesse, then look back at my friend. “You should go talk to him. You look hot tonight.”

  She pushes her hair off her shoulder like a diva. The sparkles on her top catch the bar lights, creating a disco-ball effect that dapples her ample chest. “No way am I ditching you for some strange on your birthday. Sisters before misters, bitch.” The bartender places two fresh drinks in front of us, and she clinks her glass against mine before taking a long sip.

  “Whatever. I’ll just force Jesse to fawn all over me all night.” I raise my face to Jess, scrunching up my nose with a sarcastic grin. After three vodka cranberries, my body feels tingly and light. With a sharp inhale, I lean into Jesse, encumbered by the spicy scent of pine and musk mixed with the faint fragrance of laundry detergent. His fingertips slip down my spine, awakening all my senses. Lust, desire, need . . . love?

  I’ve definitely had too much to drink.

  Allison looks down at her watch. “What time’s Asher coming?”

  “Soon. He’s working on a big case. He should be coming right after.”

  “Come on, birthday girl . . . dance.” Jesse twirls me around and leads me to the dance floor. He grinds behind me, his body dangerously close yet barely touching until his hands find their way to my hips.

  I spin to face him. Hooded lids droop over soft azure eyes. He stares down as if I’m the only woman in the entire room. A starving man ogling an expensive prime rib. I look beyond the neon lights, trying to focus on the sick beat playing overhead, but all I see is him. I lose myself in the sound of thumping bass and the feel of his hands on my waist as we move on the dance floor.

  His thick arousal grazes my thigh when he slips his knee between mine. I gasp but can’t deny the tingles rumbling down below. Damp heat floods my panties. I’m certain he can feel it through his jeans as we roll our hips in seamless unison. I circle my arms around his neck. Warm wisps of breath trace my lips. “You look fuckin’ hot tonight, Bird,” he growls in my ear.

  “Wren!” The sound of my voice brings me back to reality. Jesus, a few drinks, and I’m throwing myself at Jesse like a rag doll. My raging libido is out of control.

  I turn my attention to Allison as she pushes through the crowd and holds out my phone. “Asher!” she yells.

  The magnetic energy brewing between us disappears like vapor. Jesse drops his grip and stands back as I take the phone and bring it to my ear.

  “Hey, baby. Where are you?”

  “Happy Birthday, Wren.” The velvety timbre of Asher’s voice seeps through the proverbial wire. I bring my free hand to the opposite ear, trying to hear him better over the music blaring overhead. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it out of here tonight.”

  Emotion slides up my neck and burns my eyes. I blink it back, cowering away from Allison’s piercing brown eyes. “You’re not coming?”

  “I have a mountain of paperwork, and the partners just dropped a huge case into my lap.”

  “But it’s my birthday . . .”

  “Stating the obvious doesn’t change my obligations, Wren.”

  Alcohol stews in my gut, twisting my disappointment into anger. I storm away from my friends and stalk to the exit, pulling the cool, autumn air into my lungs in a futile attempt to calm my raging nerves. “What about your obligation to me?”

  “Babe, I don’t have a choice.”

  I fall against the building, crossing one stiletto-clad foot over the other as a silvery cloud plumes from my lips. I shoul
d have expected this. Asher was the only summer intern offered a permanent spot at Berghammer and Stein. It’s an amazing opportunity, but lately, it feels like that stupid job is more important than I am. “There’s always a choice.”

  A frustrated grumble crackles the receiver. “Wren. I’m sorry. I will come by your place tomorrow night, and we’ll have a nice dinner and celebrate your birthday, just the two of us, okay?”

  The fight drains out of me. It shouldn’t have to be this hard. Why is my brain holding on so tight when my heart just wants to let go? “I don’t want to do this with you anymore.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying it’s over.”

  His controlled temperance turns irate. “It’s one night. You’re breaking up with me over this?”

  “It’s not just one missed night! It’s the last of many, and I’m tired of it.”

  “Wren . . . can’t we talk about this?”

  Holding the phone firm in my hand, I make my final decision. “Goodbye, Asher.”

  I flip the phone closed and drop my arm limp at my side. Tears breach the dam of my lashes but don’t fall. With a deep breath, I push off the red bricks and saunter back into the club.

  Concern mars Allison’s features as I find her back at the bar with two fresh drinks in front of her. “Everything all right?”

  “It’s over.”

  “What happened?”

  “Everything. Nothing. I don’t know.” I shrug, holding my head high. “What’s all this?” I wave my finger in a zigzag pattern at the drinks lined up before her.

  “Keanu heard it was your birthday and sent them down.”

  I fall onto the stool, deflating like a limp balloon. A perfect stranger did more for my birthday than my own boyfriend. “Excuse me.” After sucking back the drink in one gulp, I do an about-face and head to the ladies’ room as fast as my heels can take me.

  “I’m not gonna cry,” I audibly whisper, pushing inside. Posters hang on all the walls. Three stalls sit side by side, the paint chipping off the decrepit metal. I lean against the row of sinks, soaking in the sight of my own reflection.

  Eyes ringed with kohl stare back, an easy tousle of strawberry waves kissing my bare shoulders.

  “What am I doing?” I ask myself, but no answer returns. Only the pathetic sound of my own voice ringing through the tiny red room.

  The door creaks slowly open, and Allison steps in. “You okay?”

  “I’m good,” I lie, forcing a smile on my face.

  Her dark eyes fill with warmth. “You’re not good. You look like someone pissed in your cornflakes.”

  I swivel to face her and rest my ass on the edge of the faux marble countertop. “It’s my birthday. I’m not gonna let him get me down.”

  “Talk to me, girl.”

  A sudden sheen of sweat dapples my skin. “It’s just not what I want.”

  She presses against the far wall, crossing one ankle over the other. “What do you want?”

  My gaze drops to the broken tile floor as Jesse’s demand seeps into my mind. “I don’t know.”

  She dips her head to catch my eye. “You sure about that?”

  “No.”

  “You and Jesse were killin’ it on the dance floor. The heat between you guys . . .” She waves her hand in front of her face. “What’s going on with you two?”

  “We’re friends.” I shrug.

  She lifts a manicured brow. “You’re sticking with that lie still, huh?”

  “He was my first kiss. Pretty sure I was his, too,” I admit, gnawing on my bottom lip.

  A wide smile lights up her face. “That’s adorable.”

  I rub away the headache steeping between my brows. “It’s not adorable. It’s pathetic. He dropped this incredible kiss on me, then left without so much as a follow-up phone call. It broke my heart, Al.”

  She kicks off the wall and drops a reassuring hand on my arm. “And he’s spent the past few months making up for it.”

  I twist back around, bracing my palms on the counter. “But he didn’t come back for me.”

  “It shouldn’t matter why he came back. It should only matter that he did.” She points a French-tipped finger at the blackened door for emphasis. “Jesse’s the one on the other side of this door, Wren. Not Asher. Maybe it’s time you stopped looking back and started looking at what’s in front of you.”

  Two girls stumble into the bathroom, giggling on their way to the stalls. I swallow the emotion burning my throat. “I don’t know what to do,” I whisper, catching her eye in the mirror’s reflection. “If I tell him how I feel, and it doesn’t work out, I’ll lose him.”

  She cocks her head with a sweet grin. “Get out of your head and listen to your heart. How does he make you feel?”

  I sit there for a moment, allowing her words to sink in. Jesse means more to me that any other person. He’s all I think about, everything I want, and it scares me to death. My best friend, my soul mate, my smile, my laugh, the boy who snuck into my heart without permission, and the man who still lives there to this day.

  “He was never supposed to mean this much to me.”

  “But he does. Stop denying it, babe. You belong together.” I chew on her statement, my feet planted to the floor. “Go,” she urges.

  It’s all I need.

  Some unknown magnetic force pulls me to the door and catapults me back into the throng of bodies milling about the bar. I see him from across the room. Maybe it’s the alcohol mixed with an unhealthy dose of self-loathing, but everything hits me all at once. My pulse pumps like a freight train the closer I get. It’s now or never.

  Today is the day I start looking at what’s right in front of me.

  “Everything okay?” Pink lipstick colors the edge of his mouth.

  I nod, but before I can get a word in edgewise, a set of slender arms comes around me. “Hey, Wren. Happy birthday!”

  A wave of nausea roils through me. I fake a grin as Kim Duggar leans closer to Jesse and takes a sip of her drink. Kim Duggar? Of all the women Jesse could have met up with, he chooses her?

  My dry lips stick to my teeth. I just stand there grinning like an asshole, trying not to stare directly into her double Ds. “Everything’s fine,” I answer Jesse, completely ignoring the slim woman standing far too close for my liking.

  “Why is your hand empty?” Jesse moves past me, pulling Kim by her arm as I trudge behind them.

  I feel Allison’s gaze slingshot over to me then back to the pretty blonde on my right. How could I misconstrue the situation so badly? It was a dance—nothing more, nothing less—yet here I am convincing myself that maybe, just maybe, Jesse and I could finish what we started way back when.

  “Asher’s not coming?”

  “He had something else to do.” I drain my glass and slam it on the bar top harder than I intended to. “Can I have another one, please?” I shout at the bartender. When he brings another, I suck back the first two-thirds in one sip.

  “Maybe you should slow down.” Allison’s mother-hen look pisses me off. Oh, yeah, Allison knows everything about everything, doesn’t she? She knows what I feel inside before I even do. Fuck her. Fuck them all.

  Fuck Asher.

  Kim.

  Keanu Reeves.

  And especially Jesse.

  Brash music twines through my veins. My hips find the rhythm and move in time, the throng of gyrating bodies swallowing me whole. Sweat pours down my temples. The dance floor spins, and I along with it, pulsing and pounding and whirling to the beat of my heart. Alone.

  My burning throat screams for liquid. I push my way back to the bar, but the sight of Jesse and Kim locked in firm eye contact stops me short. Their faces mere inches apart, Jesse tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, but his fingertips linger too long on her skin. Her eyes shimmer in the neon lights. Cloaked in bitterness, I rush toward them, but I trip on my heels and topple to the ground.

  “Jesus, Wren.” Jesse reaches out and grabs me by the ar
m, but I wrench from his grasp.

  “I got it.”

  “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Not nearly enough,” I slur, stumbling to my feet.

  “Maybe we should get you home,” Jesse suggests, steadying me.

  “Maybe you’re right. Where’s Allison?”

  “She left with poor man’s Keanu Reeves. She tried to say goodbye, but you didn’t want to leave the dance floor.” I scowl as Kim explains the mysterious disappearance of my friend, and I fall onto a nearby barstool.

  I turn a pointed glare at the bitch before me. “Why the fuck are you here, anyway? Seriously. Who invited you?”

  “That’s enough, Bird!”

  With Jesse and Kim locked on either side, I stagger to the door. The floral fragrance of her perfume hits like a sucker punch to the gut. Who the fuck wants to walk around smelling like roses? Only strippers and whores. Wonder which one she is?

  Chilly air tingles the beads of sweat clinging to my skin. Jesse leans me against his truck as he opens the door, then lifts me by the waist to force me inside. “Wait here,” he grumbles. I curl into the old leather, resting my head on the cool windowpane as the truck spins beneath me.

  I watch in horror as Jesse walks Kim to her car. They stand for a moment, their silhouettes backlit by silver moonlight before Jesse leans in and their shadowed bodies become one black blur. That’s the moment the vodka chooses to exit my body. I fumble for the handle, finally pushing the door open in a panic. Red liquid spews from my esophagus like an erupting volcano. Cold dew tickles my knees and palms. I retch into the grass, my body heaving, my ass perched in the air.

  Not my finest moment.

  But, sadly, not my worst.

  “Are you done?” A razor-sharp edge slices through Jesse’s smooth tone. He reaches through the open door, and a few napkins flutter to the ground next to me.

  “Uh-huh.”

  I wipe my face and hurl myself back into the truck. “I need some pancakes or something,” I warble, my eyes fluttering closed.

  “You need to sleep it off,” Jesse grunts, turning the key.

  The truck rumbles under my ass. I giggle from the sensation. The only thing between my skin and the seat is a thin strip of cotton underwear. “Oooh. Do it again!” Silent tension stews between us, making the ride unbearable. “So . . . Kim, huh?”