Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3)

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Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3) Page 15

by Wendy L. Wilson


  He clears his throat and I stop talking, anxiety rising into the back of my throat with how stupid this is. Why do I feel this? I don’t understand why I get so giddy and excited every time I see him. I shouldn’t; he’s just a friend, but sometimes when we take the boat out to our private swimming hole, the way he grabs my hand to help me back out, it makes me wish we were more. I know he doesn’t look at me that way, but each summer this feeling inside of me grows. It gets stronger and, I can’t help but wonder…what it would be like for him to be my first kiss?

  I know I have battle scars in my life and that is definitely something I’ve never gone into detail about, but he knows; he knows I’ve endured something that has left me scared for people to touch me or get close to me. He’s the only one I let in. I wonder if he would find me ugly if he knew everything. Does he even find me pretty?

  “Are you going to make fun of me for this?”

  He finally looks over, dropping his pole to his lap and knocking me out of my thoughts. I take an uneasy breath, knowing what I really want, but unsure of how to get there. I figure asking him may be the best I can do. No way am I going to kiss him on my own.

  Holding my mouth closed, a laugh bubbles up my throat and comes out in a sort of snort. “No,” I croak.

  He smirks and tosses his gaze back out to where his line is. “Then, no…I haven’t ever kissed anyone.”

  His answer comes as no surprise to me. He’s only six months older than me and even my friends that are fifteen have mostly only kissed one guy at this point. I have not ever kissed anyone. I can’t even sit in a dark movie theater with a guy let alone let one get that close; well, with the exception of Evan. He and I can go fishing in absolute darkness every night and stay out till Dad is about to flip his mind and I am at complete ease. Nothing about Evan makes me nervous, except the feelings I have been feeling lately and even that is not a nervousness like any other. It is more an exciting nervous not a scared or anxious sensation. The way he is gentle and easy with me tells me he would never do anything to give me pause. I trust him and always have.

  “Have you ever thought about it?”

  He glances over through the corner of his eyes, then moves his sights back to what he’s doing. Chills rush up my spine and my stomach flips.

  “Yeah, I’ve thought about it,” he mumbles.

  My eyes widen and a strange urgency grips my heart. Now my interest is piqued, yet a part of me doesn’t want to know the details of his thoughts about another girl. I’ve never seen him with another girl at school, but it still makes me uneasy.

  “Like you’ve thought about kissing a girl…on the lips?” I blurt it out, sounding like a rambling fool. I open my mouth to correct my ridiculous question before he can harass me for the rest of my life.

  He turns his head as if it’s being cranked around slowly. His eyes carry the gleam of hilarity and the grin that always emerges right before he is about to turn loose a round of teasing that I never can quite keep up with, gradually rises across his face.

  “Yeeeeessss…” he emphasizes his bland answer and I already know he’s going to make me feel like a dummy. “Were we discussing a different form of kissing or did I miss something. I mean, yeah, my mind can get pretty carried away and I can think of plenty of places that my mouth…”

  “Oh whoa, whoa, whoa…” I spit out, blinking my eyes quickly like they may erase the stupid question all together. “I just meant…like…ahhh…” he has me all sorts of flustered now, and he knows it. He grins, leaning his head to the side as I go on, my heart all tripped up on his adorableness. “Is there like a specific girl that you think of kissing?”

  He chuckles, placing his fishing pole to the other side of him before turning his attention back my way.

  “Yes, there is a certain girl that I think about.” He raises one finger, his brows drawn up in a matter-of-fact expression. “And just so we are clear, yes it is a girl. I try to keep all sexual thoughts surrounding that gender.”

  My mind stumbles for a second, unclear of what on earth he’s talking about. The confusion must be written all over my face, as I stare at him blankly.

  “You asked if I thought about kissing a girl,” he clarifies.

  I shake my head and blink away my confused state. “Oh yeah, ummm…” I grit my teeth, wanting to ask who she is, but veer away from blurting out another lame question instead. “Is she pretty?”

  His face brightens with another huge smile as he snickers, leaning towards me and placing one hand on the dock behind me to support his weight.

  “Yeah, in fact, I think she is very pretty.”

  My body vibrates with nervousness from him being so close. It’s not unordinary for him to be near me, helping me onto a dock or holding my hand to pull me on a jet ski but now…

  The way he is looking at me brings a whole new level of jitters over my body and causes excitement to bolt through me. I should be pacing the dock or demanding a name, but I don’t. I have no right to be jealous; we’re only friends. However, the way his eyes keep flicking to my lips, keeps my imagination from running through all the girls back at Rosemore.

  “You do?” my voice shakes and I just know I may never live this next question down, especially if he teases me. I gulp, hard, before opening my mouth back up to speak. “Do you think I’m pretty?” my voice comes out in such a quiet tone, that he may not even hear it.

  His expression doesn’t change at first, he keeps his eyes on me; I almost want to gasp, appalled that he is so blatantly going to think it over right in front of me. Couldn’t he at least lie so that I’m not humiliated? My face flames as his fingertips softly close in on my chin sending a rush of goose bumps over my arms, up my back and over my neck.

  “I think you’re beautiful,” he says it in a serious tone I’ve never heard from him. For a minute, I wonder if I need to wait for a punch line, but then he opens his mouth to speak again. “Are you going to freak out if I kiss you?”

  I suck in a deep breath. “Will she be jealous?”

  He laughs at me, his eyes dancing with joy. “Who?”

  “The girl you’ve thought about kissing?”

  “Well, she doesn’t have a reason to be…unless…” he pauses, a hint of a frown crossing his face for half a second before the smile returns. “…unless her answer is no, because then I will be kissing someone else, because these lips will need to be put to good use someday. It would seriously be depriving this world of greatness if I never graced some lucky lady with…”

  “Ok, ok…” I blurt out, wishing I would have just said, ‘no, I am not going to freak, just kiss me’. “I’m not going to.”

  He brings his eyebrows together and I believe now he is confused.

  “I won’t freak out,” I say in a little bit more of a desperate tone than I had planned.

  “Oh yeah…ok.”

  I close my eyes expecting his lips to fall to mine, but no sooner than I have them closed and feel nothing, I fling them back open in a panic. Did I misread this or misunderstand?

  He’s made no move. He’s no closer to me and he is still just looking at me, but with a dorky grin that makes my elation climb.

  “Piper,” he speaks up in a quiet tone that makes me shiver. “Are you ready?”

  Now I just want to slap him. He’s just playing with me. “Evan!!” I shout, but don’t even have time to close my mouth as my playful annoyance is clipped off by the gentle, yet somewhat determined aggressiveness of his mouth consuming mine.

  My whole body liquefies against his, melting into a puddle of nerves, fear, happiness and enthusiasm with the soft touch of his arm against my side. He doesn’t make any sudden moves as his mouth slightly opens and I’m surprised by his tongue making its presence known. I pull away quickly.

  His expression stays cool and calm as I just look at him, wanting to get right back to where we were. Why the hell did I stop it?

  Quirking his brows, he runs his free hand up my arm, raising every single hair in its
trail. I glance down at his hand as my heart kicks up to a frenzied chorus, slamming into my chest and thumping blood through my veins at a high speed rate. Every cell inside me is on fire, creating an adrenaline rush like no other.

  “You ok?” his voice which suddenly seems deeper this summer, brings me back to earth and gently hushes my rapid breaths.

  “Hmmmhm,” I hum out in a shiver, my chest still quaking and head in a tizzy of swirls and haze that I’ve come to expect to always pull me under.

  “Ok. I just wanted to make sure.”

  He looks down at his hand, still on my arm and I look too, loving the soft way he handles me, like I’m a porcelain doll or a glass sculpture. With slow, drawn-out movements, he steers his hand along my bicep, then slides it between my arm and waist where it finds a resting point. The pressure of his hand is light and gentle with his fingertips barely reaching around to my back. He keeps his hand there, knowing from past experiences not to lower it near my hip. I continue to stare down as I take in a deep breath, allowing it to fill my lungs and cleanse me of all hesitation that may take me to a place I do not want to go.

  “Just breathe if you get nervous and don’t be afraid to tell me to stop.”

  I snap my head up to level my eyes with his. He smiles and all the excited jitters I had, slowly dull like a camp fire that is lowering from a roaring blaze to a soft gentle flicker.

  “Ok?” he says so smoothly, nudging his chin as if he’s coercing me to agree; and I do.

  Nodding one time, I keep my eyes on him as his face comes back to me. A cloud of dizziness and a storm of unpleasant memories threaten to attack me, but with each strangled gasp, Evan moves away and whispers softly, “Breathe with me, ok Piper…breathe.”

  It lets me know that I am here and not there.

  His voice is my beacon to reality and each of his breaths remind me to breathe as well. To stay here; to experience this just as it is, beautiful and romantic, tender and new, and without a doubt, the best first kiss I could ever imagine.

  AS SOON AS SHE MOVES closer, there is no holding back. I want nothing more than to pull her down onto this uncomfortable, stiff ass cot and relive some long ago memories, but for her I need to go slow. Once my lips taste hers again, it’s like clockwork; she follows my every move as I take gradual nips and caresses at her mouth. Bearing in mind all her fears, I wind my hand up her back, imagining my skin against hers just like it was years ago.

  She continues to grip my shirt with a needy passion that I’ve never seen from her before. The hesitation and the way she held back have lessened. That makes me nervous and practically makes me want to go on a rampage of wondering who has touched her. It was once only me, but I screwed that up in one flash of a second.

  Her head falls back, breaking our rhythm but making me aware that I may be losing her in the same ways I did back then. Squinting my eyes to make out her expression in the dim light, I see her eyes closed and her breathing much heavier than normal. With most women, that would be a green light; go for it, make your move, you’ve got her right where you want her…not Piper. Heavy, quick breathing and her eyes falling shut has always been a big bright red flashing light for me to put the brakes on and bring her back to reality.

  “Piper…stay with me baby, ok? Breathe…” no sooner than the words leave my mouth and I bring my hand to my chest to grasp hers, she swings her eyes back to mine, staring right at me in a way I’ve wanted her to since that day on the dock.

  She doesn’t say a thing, she just looks at me. I study her, searching her face as we remain silent. Her eyes appear vacant and far off as if she has drifted off to another time. My heart sinks, automatically assuming that I will soon be in the midst of one of her black out spells. It hurts to imagine where her mind could be; if perhaps she has to revisit that night every damn time someone touches her. God, I’d give anything to take back what that sleazebag did to her.

  Her breathing slows and her eyes flutter shut as she slowly slumps forward. I pull her against me, her body melting in my arms as I slide her to my side to lay her down on the cot. Last thing I want to do is startle her, having her so close and in such an intimate way, but no way am I getting up.

  After her head is planted on my pillow, I move to her side with one hand slightly above her waist and the other stroking her cheek. I keep my face near hers, knowing it may take a moment for her to register where she is, but I’ll stick with it. I know I can pull her out of this.

  “Piper…” I whisper into her ear, my breath gently blowing her hair. “Can you wake up?” I stay level with her, shuffling barely against the hard bed so that I can be close enough for her to hear me.

  She continues to breathe and even though her chest moving up and down is a clear sign that she is breathing, I still repeat the words that always worked before; the words that she said always brought her back.

  “Breathe with me, ok baby…take a breath with me.”

  A slight smile twitches over her lips and I crane my neck to the side, pushing myself onto my elbow slightly so I can be a bit above her. Her lips rise more, curving vaguely as her lashes faintly jostle and let me know she’s coming to. In a half asleep fashion, she stretches her eyes open little-by-little as I keep my fingertips and palm across her neck and jaw with my thumb busy etching a tender trail over the satiny skin of her cheek.

  A soft warm touch eases over my forearm, causing me to look down. Piper’s delicate hand wraps around my arm, sending a surge of energy through me that has me bolting my eyes back to hers. Immediately, my gaze meets her somewhat vacant eyes.

  “Piper, hey…you with me?” I whisper softly, still focused in on her touch.

  She takes a gentle inhale of air, while out of habit I guzzle down a huge gulp and then slowly blow it out. I watch her do the same with me, because that was always our routine; I breathe, you breathe.

  I smile. “That’s it…breathe with me, ok?”

  Recognition finally dawns on her as the features of her face light up with her big brown eyes fully open and the edges of her mouth lifted into a smile.

  “I’m ok,” she says in a content, soft tone. “I think I’m ok this time,” she follows up, assuring me or possibly even herself.

  She doesn’t push me away or shift around uncomfortably like before. I shouldn’t question it, but I obviously don’t ever know when to keep my mouth shut.

  “So…” I tread softly, skating around bringing up anything that may place us in a sticky conversation, especially one where I am the big-mouth that virtually killed what we had once. “You didn’t black out…” I ask it nearly as a question, wondering why she reacted differently to physical contact. My stomach turns a little thinking that someone else may have helped her through it, but I nip that in the bud, knowing that is exactly what she has always needed; help to get past it. I should be nothing short of happy for her. She sucks in a shaky breath and grips my arm harder, her nails like tiny teeth about to rip through my flesh.

  “No…did I?”

  Nodding slowly, I study her, having not the slightest clue where to go from here. I flick my eyes down the length of her body, nonchalantly, denying the instinct I would follow if this was any other girl. It’s ironic; she’s the girl I’ve always wanted above anyone else, the girl who still haunts my damn dreams periodically with that fiery, ice cold stare that she had given me that last day, yet with her, I won’t make a move if she does not tell me to first.

  Looking back at her, I crinkle my brows, confused on what I want to say; or maybe ask.

  “No, you didn’t black out like you usually do…” I pause, realizing I have no idea what is usual for her now. I’m sure that douchebag over at her cabin may know. “…or how you used to.” My voice fades as my heart clutches with an awkward tension of bringing it up. “You weren’t really here either?” Twitching my head to the side with a small grin, I go on, “Where’d you go?” I’m pretty confident by her lack of freak out, that she most definitely did not take a trip back to the night that c
aused this all.

  She loosens her hold on me and pulls away a bit, moving her hand across her waist, below mine. For an instance I consider moving it, but the situation seems under control so I’m not backing away. It’s been a hell of a long time since I have been this close without her looking like she may pummel me across the room at any given second. I happen to like ‘nice’ Piper; I think I’ll work on keeping her this way.

  “I didn’t go there…I know that much. I was just thinking.”

  Her eyes move down and a bolt of delight runs through me as I take in the fact that she is looking at my lips; staring in fact, like they are a tempting dessert that she’s wanting to dive into. Holy shit. I literally want to high five myself.

  I do a mental celebratory air grind as she goes on, “I was just remembering…” she stops, flipping her eyes from my lips to my eyes and back again as if she is carefully calculating her next move, or maybe mine.

  Not thinking fast enough, I move my hand, sliding it over the wooly fabric of her sweater right below her breast when all of sudden the moment is broken. Dammit. She looks down quickly, her whole body tensing up beneath my touch and her breath coming in a short clip.

  “Hey, hey…I’m sorry.”

  I pull my hand away swiftly and her composure shifts with it, like a baby being soothed. This was always the frustrating part, and although, I loved every minute of how she depended on me and needed my strength and guidance, I still had bouts of selfishness when I didn’t understand why she couldn’t move past it. I just always hated seeing the torment in her eyes; nothing would cut me faster.

  “No, I’m good…I am.”

  To my utter shock, she jostles onto her side, facing me. Staying still and stiff as the bed, I lay hesitant as her fingertips slink over my hand, seizing it in her own and moving it back to her body. My brows shoot up and I suddenly have the excitement of a teenager going in for their first feel-up, but the smartass in me holds back from making any comments.

  “I like…” She doesn’t look at me as she talks, rather looking towards the ceiling with such a low tone that I can barely catch onto every word. “I kinda like having you close…like this.”

 

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