As he nears my lips, my heart does that stupid thing again where it slams against my chest. I want to move back. I want to run. Yet I find myself remaining motionless as he nears—
I gasp as his lips brush mine, and then I cringe at the noise, waiting for West to make fun of me. But all he does is release an uneven breath before touching his lips against mine again. He stays that way for a second, and I start to think we’re going to keep this strictly a no-frenching thing, when he suddenly sweeps his tongue into my mouth, the cold metal of his tongue ring brushing against the inside of my mouth. And just like that, West and I are kissing. Or, well, making out, because I’m pretty sure this is different from when he just pressed his lips against mine. That felt more like a kiss.
If you’d told me earlier that this was how my night was going to go, I would’ve laughed in your face. I never thought something like this would happen, and part of me thinks I should pull away and end this potential mess right now. I mean, I’m shaking like an idiot. And my heart is going crazy in my chest, for several erratic reasons.
But, for some reason, I don’t pull back.
I latch on.
My mind is racing so swiftly I can barely think straight, but when West deepens the kiss, slipping his fingers through my hair, all my thoughts just sort of float away. Then he presses his other hand against my back and pulls me closer, kissing me even deeper. By this point, all I can think about is his tongue tangling with mine, the heat of his body as he gently presses me against him, and how good it feels as he plays with my hair.
I get so lost in all the sensations that I’m not even aware that he moves us farther into the park until my back bumps against the edge of something.
I startle, slightly pulling away and glancing behind me, realizing I’m now standing by a picnic table.
Confused, I twist back to face him, about to ask him why he moved us over here. But before I can get the words to leave my lips, he wraps his hands around my waist, picks me up, and sets me down on the table. Then he moves between my legs and seals his lips to mine again.
And
Oh
My
God,
This kiss is …
Intense.
So intense that I can barely breathe.
Think.
Exist.
Everything inside me is slowly fading.
The pain.
The darkness.
The shame.
It’s all gone.
And all that remains are lips, hands, warmth, connection.
I can’t even remember the last time I felt connection.
I kiss him back, my hands unconsciously wandering to his shoulders where I grip on to him while biting his bottom lip. I don’t even know what drives me to do it, other than every single part of me feels magnetized toward him.
He urges me closer to him, returning one of his hands to my hair and combing through the strands until my head tips back. Then he moves his lips from mine to trail kisses down my chin to my neck.
I stare up at the stars, a cloud of confusion muddling my thoughts, though I can’t think of anything but the way his lips travel across my neck, the way he gently grazing his teeth along my skin. How good it feels.
I feel good.
I feel …
Reality starts to sink it, choking me like a sick, sadistic bastard.
I can’t feel these things.
Because feeling this could lead to feeling everything.
I’m about to pull back, about to break this connection like I’ve broken everything else, when my phone buzzes from inside my pocket. Through that noise, I feel both relieved and shattered, which doesn’t really make any sense, but that’s becoming the story of my life these days.
Sucking back a shaky breath, I pull back, my insides feeling all jittery, like I just drank too much coffee or snorted a line of coke. Either way, I’m all jacked up on emotional adrenaline overload.
West slowly opens his eyes, little airy breaths leaving his lips. “Everything okay?” He seems uncertain again, which is weird since he seemed so confident while he was kissing me.
“Yeah, my phone’s just going crazy,” I say, luckily managing not to sound as shaky as I feel, my mask returning, although it feels a bit thinner now, like it could shatter at any moment.
Struggling to breathe evenly, I dig my phone out, telling myself to get it together. That it was just a kiss. No big deal. And it was a fake kiss at that.
But it didn’t feel fake.
It felt more real than anything I’ve felt in a long time.
My fingers tremble a bit as I tap open my text messages.
“Is it Loki?” he asks, absentmindedly playing with strands of my hair.
I might overanalyze how weird it is that he still has his hand in my hair if it weren’t for the texts on my phone.
Unknown: I know a secret of yours.
Unknown: And it’s not about your crush on Blaine.
Unknown: It has to do with all those stupid words you’ve been putting up all over town.
Unknown: Did you enjoy getting in trouble for the one last night? Maybe I should turn you in for all your poetry.
I gulp as I read the texts. So, this is the person who turned me in?
But, who is it? Some random person? Someone I know?
That might not be my only problem since I think West just saw the texts.
My suspicions are confirmed when he cocks a brow at me. “So, you are the one who’s been doing that.”
I quickly put on my mask, giving an indifferent shrug. “You sound like you already guessed.” How, I don’t have a damn clue. But it makes me nervous.
The words I wrote are personal, and now he and whoever just sent me those texts apparently know that.
I gently push him back, hop off the table, and start to walk off.
He rushes after me, his boots thudding against the grass. “Lex, chill. I’m not going to tell anyone.”
I pick up my pace. “I’m not worried about that.” No, I’m worried that whoever this unknown person is will, and then I’ll end up in bigger trouble, like Milo warned me.
And, while I don’t want to admit it, I’m worried about how much West can see of me now that he knows.
I quicken my pace even more, practically running, but he captures the back of my shirt, pulling me to a stop.
“Then, why are you running away from me?” He drops his hand from my shirt as I turn toward him with my arms crossed.
“I’m not running away,” I inform him, that mask of indifference fully back on now. “We did our practice kiss, and now I’m leaving so I can figure out who the hell this asshole is that is … Well, I’m not really sure what they’re trying to do, but I’m going to find out, and then I’m going to kick their ass.”
“You want me to help you?” he offers, scratching his wrist.
“No, I can handle it.” I spin around to leave, but he gently wraps his fingers around my wrist and moves up beside me, catching my gaze.
“Let me help you, okay?” The edges of his lips quirk. “It’ll give us something to do while we’re fake dating. You know, between all the kissing.”
“There won’t be that much kissing,” I stress. Just the mention of kissing gets my heart racing a bit and for very conflicting reasons.
I liked kissing him, yet I hated it. How can that be possible? How can I be such a mess?
“Okay.” His gaze briefly drops to my lips before he looks back up at me. “Then I guess we really need something else to fill up the time, so let me help you with this.”
I’m not one for accepting help, but I do want to know who keeps texting me so I can make sure they keep their mouth shut.
No one else can find out I’m behind those spray-painted words all over town. There’s too much at risk if word gets out. My family could get broken up. Plus, everyone would know the real me, the girl behind the mask.
“Fine,” I give in, surprising him and myself. He probably thought I wa
s going to be harder to persuade. Honestly, so did I, but I must be really worried about this. And I need to be. After what Loki told me … I need to be careful that no one gives out all my secrets. “But, how do we even attempt to figure out who this person is?”
He contemplates this with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip. That lip that I sucked on at one point.
Reality bitch-slaps me hard.
What the shit, Alexis? What were you thinking! You were just supposed to kiss, not bite his lip then let him suck on your neck. I probably have a damn hickey from it. Plus, all that clusterfuck of shit you were feeling …
You can’t go there again.
“I think we should start out by making a list of the people you think might be doing it,” he finally says. “And then go from there.”
“Masie and Blaine are on it,” I tell him.
He elevates his brows in surprise. “Really?”
I nod. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t really think they did it, but with how upset Masie was about you punching Blaine and how I didn’t care … And then she was trying to make up with me, but I ignored her … I wouldn’t put it past her doing something like this if she somehow found out I was behind the spray paint. Although, I’m not sure how she got an unknown number.”
He wavers his head from side to side. “I really doubt it’s them, but I think you should put them on the list just to be safe.”
“Okay, yeah … Why did you seem so surprised when I suggested it was them?”
He gives a half-shrug, staring out at the street. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just used to you being”—he shrugs again, looking at me—“team Blaine and team Masie.”
“Yeah, but never team Blaine and Masie,” I stress. “Besides, I’m over that.”
Am I, though? Can you just get over a friendship like that? Maybe. Maybe not. I really don’t want to think about it. No, what I want is to focus on something else. In fact, I think I’m going to put all my energy into figuring this texter out. Then I won’t have to think about anything else for a while.
Although, if they do turn me in, I might be thinking about some major things, like probation and whether or not Social Services is going to remove my brother from our home.
Shit. I need to figure this out, no matter what it takes. Even if it means swallowing my pride and asking West for help. Yeah, he already offered, but I need to make sure we’ll get to the bottom of this quickly.
“Hey, West,” I say as we start wandering back in the direction of my house.
He blinks at me, seeming sort of dazed. “Yeah?”
“We need to figure out who this is as quickly as possible and make sure they stay quiet … It’s really important.” I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t ask why or why I spray-painted the buildings in the first place, because I can’t ever share that with anyone.
He offers me a small smile. “We will.” Then, to give me extra reassurance—at least that’s why I assume he does it—he reaches over and hitches his pinkie with mine. “I pinkie swear on my life, baby.”
I shake my head, wanting to get annoyed at the baby remark, but his pinkie promise has a trace of a smile pulling at my lips.
Blaine, Masie, him, and I used to make these promises to each other all the time, way back in the Before when things were simple. When life wasn’t so broken. When I wasn’t so broken. And, for a fleeting moment, right after he says it with his pinkie hitched with mine, I don’t feel as broken as I normally do. But, a step later, he pulls his pinkie away and that brokenness catches up to me as his warmth leaves my skin and coldness settles in again.
I almost miss a step, but I quickly catch myself and keep walking, one foot in front of the other, moving forward, farther away from the past and toward an unknown future.
Fourteen
West
Lex and I stay fairly quiet during the walk back to her house. Normally, I’d try to fill in the silence by joking around, but my mind is crammed with other stuff right now. Like who could be texting Lex, what their game is, how I’ll find all this out, because I will. I take my pinkie promises very seriously. At least with her.
I also can’t stop thinking about that kiss … replaying it in my head … The way she tasted, how soft her skin was, the little gasps that kept escaping her lips as I gently tugged on her hair, the way she bit my lip. The latter was completely unexpected and totally turned me on. All of it—she did. I just wish the kiss had been real; wish she actually wanted to kiss me to begin with.
Still, the kiss was fucking soul-stealing, and I’m going to keep replaying it in my head over and over again until our next one. And maybe, just maybe, along the goddamn way, she’ll finally start seeing me as more than a friend. Although, depending on what happens when I get home, I might not be able to leave my house for a while.
I officially haven’t been home for more than twenty-four hours. Last night, while I was at the party with Holden and Ellis, my mom texted me relentlessly with threats, warning me that, if I didn’t get my ass home, I was in even more trouble than I already was. Part of me wanted to leave; knew the longer I stayed and disobeyed, the worse trouble I’d be in. But I was too high and drunk, and Holden was introducing me to all these people … I just sort of lost track of time as everything passed by in a haze.
Maybe it was a stupid decision to go to the party at all. But, at the time, I convinced myself that I was going to avoid getting my ass beat. Now that avoidance has made the punishment pile and fester. Truthfully, I’m worried about what’ll happen when I get home.
And here I am, promising Lex that I’ll help her.
What if I can’t? What if he makes it so I can’t? What if he finally goes through with his threats of finishing me off and putting me out of my misery?
Those thoughts continue to haunt my hungover mind until we arrive at Lex’s house.
She starts across the grass toward the front door, muttering a goodbye. If I didn’t know her as well as I did, I’d take it personally that she’s so eager to bolt from me right after we shared that hot as hell kiss. But Alexis has never been one for facing emotional stuff head-on, even back before her parents died. Although, she wasn’t as shut off as she is now, either.
“Hey, Lex,” I call out to her.
She pauses then turns around, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah?”
My gaze fleetingly drops to her lips and, damn, I want to kiss her again so badly, but her guarded expression lets me know she’d more than likely kick me in the balls if I tried.
I cautiously step toward her. “I’m going to look into this texting thing and see if there’s any way we can find out whose number it is. I have a friend who’s really into technology, and he might know something. His name is Ellis, and he’s pretty cool, so you don’t have to worry about him telling anyone anything.”
She bobs her head up and down, nibbling on her lip. “Okay. And I’ll get working on my list.” She turns to walk up the stairs, trying to bolt.
“Lex,” I call out again, my nerves surfacing as I prepare to say what I need to say next.
She sighs heavily then turns to face me. “Whatever it is, West, just spit it out. This whole tiptoeing-around-it thing doesn’t suit you.” She smirks. “You’re too big of a loudmouth for that.”
And just like that, I relax for a moment, reducing the last of the distance between us.
God, I fucking love her …
Love the way she smells …
Tastes …
The way she makes me laugh …
I’m so screwed.
“I was just going to say that I’ll text you tomorrow so we can figure out what time we want to show up at the party together.” I just hope I’ll be able to get out of the house to go to it.
Maybe I just won’t ever go home again …
God, if only …
“Oh.” A crease forms between her brows. “Why did you seem so weird about saying that?”
“I wasn’t,” I lie. I was, as she put it, “tipto
eing around it,” for a ton of different reasons.
She eyes me over so closely I almost squirm. “I can tell you’re lying, but I’m gonna let it go for now ’cause I’m tired.”
I grin at her and, for a moment, everything is so easy, so weightless.
“If I was lying, you’d never be able to get the truth out of me if I didn’t want you to.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay. Tell that to Blaine and the many secrets you’ve accidentally confessed to me about him. Like the time he peed his pants in eighth grade when he was watching SpongeBob and laughed too hard.”
“Hey,” I hiss through a chuckle. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
She crosses her arms. “And I haven’t. I’m just making a point that, if I want to get the truth from you, I totally can.”
I can’t help smiling at her sassiness. “Fine, maybe you’re right.”
The front porch light flips on then, and she tenses.
“Shit. I better get inside.” She reels around and rushes up the steps.
I don’t budge until she’s safely inside. Then I turn and head toward my car, the weightlessness dissipating as I face the inevitable—opening the text messages I’ve been ignoring.
I have a ton from my mom, but none from my dad, which is typical. He never verbalizes anything to me. No, he expresses his words through violence.
Blowing out a shaky breath, I read the last text my mom sent me.
Mom: You’ll regret this if you don’t get home right now.
The text was sent this morning. More than likely, my parents stayed busy with work and socializing throughout the day. Hopefully, they’ll still be busy when I get home. Maybe I’ll be able to procrastinate my punishment until tomorrow.
Me: Sorry. I’m heading home right now.
I move to open my car door but pause as she replies back.
Mom: Don’t bother. You turn eighteen in a few weeks, so you can start taking care of yourself.
My heart thunders in my chest.
Signed with a Kiss: A Novel (Signed with a Kiss Series Book 1) Page 12
