The Holiday Kiss

by Maggie Dallen

  Hope flickered, more dangerous than any fire. It threatened to flare up and leave me with unrealistic dreams and expectations. And then, when he did what I knew he’d do and leave me high and dry once he got bored?

  Hope would leave nothing but embers in its wake.

  So then why did he kiss you? Why did he ask to talk?

  None of it made sense. Part of me wanted to believe that he wanted more than what I’d offered, but every time my heart started to go there, my mind helpfully replayed Luke’s words to his friend.

  It wasn’t a coincidence that I’d been behind them. I’d sought him out in the halls.

  Stupid, stupid move. I realized that now, but this morning—had it really only been this morning? I’d still been riding that crazy high I seemed to get around Luke.

  It had been like that all week, ever since we’d agreed we were exclusive.

  Exclusive for a week. Whoop de doo.

  I’d actually let myself get carried away. We’d had so much fun, it had been so easy. Unbelievably easy. He’d somehow slipped into my life. Arguing his way past the barrier where most people stopped. He’d laughed at my stupid jokes and talked to me about stuff that was personal and intimate.

  Being with him made me realize how little Brandon and I talked. I mean really talked. We discussed things academically, we made plans and discussed the future. But he didn’t open up to me and he never forced me to open up either.

  Not that Luke used force. He cajoled and pushed at times, but mostly he just asked questions that others never thought to. He listened in a way that I wasn’t used to. I’d stupidly thought that meant something.

  But now as I pulled into the parking lot, it occurred to me how naïve I could be. I mean, I’d assumed I was the only one he was like that around, but maybe he treated all of the girls he hooked up with that way. Maybe I was the only one who’d confused the issue with emotions.

  But we had been dating, hadn’t we? And he had kissed me in the hall, hadn’t he?

  I shook my head and dropped my head against the steering wheel after putting the car in park. I was confused. Once again, I had no idea what was going on here.

  If what he said to his friend was true and he had no intentions of dating anyone, why tell me we were dating in Mexico? Why not declare then and there that this was just another one of his meaningless physical relationships? And if he didn’t want to be with me at all why had he kissed me in front of everyone?

  I lifted my head and stared at the entrance to the pool, where he would be waiting. One or two of his teammate stragglers came out, their hair still wet as they joked and laughed on their way to the parking lot.

  What was I going to say to him? I’d been kicking myself all afternoon for what I’d said in the hallway. I’d offered myself up to him—told him I was willing to continue with a charade of a relationship…and why?

  My heart shriveled up in my chest as the answer came to me. Because I hadn’t wanted to lose him entirely. God, how pathetic. Was I really willing to settle for whatever Luke was willing to give me just so I could continue to have him in my life?

  I swallowed back a wave of nausea. Shame and humiliation mixed with disappointment—in myself and my offer. I was too good for that. I deserved more. It would be one thing if I truly didn’t have feelings for him, if I’d been honest about wanting a meaningless, emotionless fling.

  But I’d lied.

  That wasn’t what I wanted. It’s what I wished I wanted. It would have made life so much easier if that was what I’d actually wanted.

  I dropped my head back down. Oh man, I felt sick.

  I would not throw up in the parking lot. I just wouldn’t. This day sucked badly enough, and while I might be miserable, I could handle this without vomit.

  That was the pep talk I was giving myself when I lifted my head to see another person come out through the side door.

  Luke. Hair wet and wearing a fierce scowl, he spotted my car and headed straight toward me.

  The sight of him helped settle my stomach, oddly enough, even as my heart started to race.

  He looked good. Why did he have to look so good? It wasn’t fair. He burst into a run that was easy and effortless, unlike my huffing and puffing when I tried to do the same. He reached the side of my car and opened my door. “Are you all right?”

  The concern in his eyes made the last of the nausea pass and I got out of the car. I still had to look up at him when standing but it was slightly less awkward than having to peer up at him from the driver’s seat. “I wasn’t feeling great.”

  “Are you sick?” He reached out to put a hand to my forehead and I stopped breathing.

  The touch felt way too intimate, especially considering I had no idea what we were or how we were supposed to be around each other. He dropped his hand when I shook my head. “Not sick, just…wasn’t feeling great.”

  I’d rather not discuss nausea and vomit at this particular moment, thank you very much.

  He nodded as though he understood my silent communication. His expression went from concerned to heartbreakingly sad. “Maybe we should talk later.”

  I shook my head, surprising myself as much as him, if that was possible. “I think I’ll feel worse if we don’t talk.”

  He arched his brows in surprise, but really, I knew myself well enough to know that this particular bout of nausea was not food poisoning. It was shame and anger and hurt and every other bad emotion.

  He nodded toward the pool. “Come inside?”

  I fell into step beside him and for the first time in what felt like ages, the silence was so not comfortable. “Why did you want me to wear a swimsuit?”

  “Because I’m teaching you how to swim.”

  I stopped just before the door. “You’re…what?”

  “No arguments,” he said, opening the door and ushering me inside. “I’m teaching you how to swim and while we’re at it, you and me—we’re going to get some things straight.”

  I opened my mouth to argue but I had no idea what to say. He’d stumped me with this one, which wasn’t unheard of—he had a tendency to surprise me. When I didn’t argue, I had nothing else to do but follow him and strip off the clothes I’d worn over top of my suit.

  My mouth went dry as we stood there in our bathing suits in the empty pool area. It wasn’t like this was new territory for us—this guy had seen me in a swimsuit every day last week. With all the kissing we’d done, he was very familiar with my body just like I knew every muscle of his well-defined chest and those perfect abs.

  But it had never been like this before. We’d never been at Briarwood, where one of his teammates could come in at any time. We’d never been in this realm of the undefined.

  I hated it. I wanted to know what he was thinking, where we stood—but at the same time I was terrified, because what if he didn’t feel the same? And I was almost certain he didn’t.

  And how did I feel? That was the most confusing part of all. I didn’t want to want him like this. I didn’t want to need him. And this feeling? It was needy. It was like after one week he’d suddenly become a necessity in my life.

  No one was a necessity in my life. Well, no one but my mom, and maybe Taylor. But a guy? No way. I started to back away, scrambling to pick up my clothes as fear took center stage.

  Because we were half naked and alone and I knew where this would lead.

  Kissing, and then more kissing, and then making out. Any second now I would lose all sense of reason. I’d forget logic, just like I’d done in Mexico. I’d go from being a sentient, rational human to that quivering ball of sensations and emotions.

  And while some part of me wanted to give in to that, I couldn’t. It would be too easy now, but tomorrow? Or even later tonight when I came back to my senses?

  I’d hate myself.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, following me as I tried to slip back into my top while still walking toward the door. At some point I was going to have to put pants back on but I’d deal
with that when I reached the door.

  Escape seemed more crucial than ever.

  I reached the door but he reached it first. Blocking my exit as I stood there with my pants dangling in my hands and distantly wondering what the hell had happened to my life? Not too long ago I’d had a clear goal for the future, I’d had no distractions other than the pesky nuisance of a swim team captain who’d sabotaged my plans for the school’s grant money.

  What the hell had happened?

  He was glaring at me, and I noticed that he was breathing heavily. Like he’d just run a mile and not walked a few steps to block my escape. “Why are you running from me?”

  “Why are you stopping me?” I shot back.

  “Because we need to talk. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  Good question. Was it? I didn’t even know. I hadn’t let myself think about what I would say or what he would say, and I knew now that was out of sheer cowardice. My hand that was holding the pants started to tremble and I let it fall to my side, my pants trailing in a shallow puddle of pool water.

  I didn’t care. What did soggy pants matter when I had to man up, so to speak, and say what needed to be said, for my self-respect, if for nothing else. “I can’t do this.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Can’t do what, Maya?”

  I threw my hands up in frustration, forgetting temporarily that I was holding soggy pants and whipping them around dramatically. “I don’t know. This. I don’t want to have this conversation.”

  His jaw clenched and I muttered a curse. I also didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be a challenge to him. And that’s what this would be. I was half afraid that’s what this afternoon’s kiss had been about. He’d known that if people saw us together they’d talk and he wanted to show them up. He’d see their judgments as a challenge. He’d publicly kiss me just to give them the finger, so to speak.

  Hell, he’d probably singlehandedly make me prom queen if I wanted. All I’d have to do is tell him it could never be done.

  No one told Luke Perona who he could or could not kiss, who was or was not popular. Basically, the guy I decided to go and fall in love with was the most contrary man on the planet.

  The thought nearly made me hurl. I clutched my stomach and leaned forward to catch my breath as the room spun.

  The guy I fell in love with.

  Oh God.

  I loved him.

  That’s what this was. This lunacy had a name. I should have recognized it long ago, but I’d never had to question it, not when he seemed to feel the same way.

  Oh holy crap, I had fallen in love with Luke Perona.

  He was at my side, his arms around me as he hovered. “Are you okay? Jesus, Maya, talk to me.”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  I wasn’t sick, thank God. How unromantic would that be. Probably fitting considering I was far from romantic to begin with, but still. Even I knew that puking at a moment like this was a no-no.

  He helped me over to a bench and I sat with my elbows on my knees, keenly aware that his knee was brushing against mine, his hand gently stroking my back. After a while, he broke the silence. “Maybe you’ll feel better if you say what you need to say.”

  He sounded so resigned, so defeated, so…not like Luke, that I sat up quickly, all thoughts of hurling gone as I studied him.

  His jaw ticked slightly but that was the only tell. The only giveaway that he was just as uncomfortable as I was. It didn’t help so much as it made me eager to end this, for both our sakes. I was miserable and he was clearly struggling with something.

  Maybe he didn’t know how to break it to me that he didn’t want to date a giant loser. Or maybe he was tired of me and felt bad saying so. A million possibilities flitted through my mind—none of them good.

  But that only made what I had to say that much harder. No, not harder, just more humiliating. He was right. For my conscience, and my gut—because apparently the two were intertwined—I had to tell him the truth.

  “I didn’t mean it,” I said slowly, staring into the teal blue of the pool rather than the icy blue of his eyes. “What I said earlier about wanting to continue hooking up—I didn’t mean it.”

  I glanced down and saw his free hand clenching and unclenching in his lap. His other hand was still on my back. I leaned back into him, stupidly afraid he would pull away.

  I mean, I knew he would, but I dreaded it. This could be the last time he touched me so intimately like this and I focused on the feel of it, trying to burn it into my memory.

  “I see,” he said. “So you want to end this.”

  “Yes.” My stomach churned and I gasped. It felt like my body was instantly berating me for the lie. “No.” I squeezed my eyes shut and felt him stiffen beside me.

  “Which is it?”

  I let out a long breath but kept my eyes tight. “I don’t want to end what we had. But I don’t think…I can’t…” Words failed me. Logic and reason were nowhere to be found.

  “Open your eyes, Maya.” His voice was so gruff I did as he said, looking over at him in surprise. This was one of very few times I’d heard him sound anything less than cocky and confident.

  I couldn’t breathe for all the emotions in his eyes that he wasn’t even trying to hide. I couldn’t name them but they made my eyes sting with unshed tears. “If you didn’t mean it, why did you say it?”

  It was a good question. A logical question. One I should have been able to answer. I licked my lips. “I didn’t want this to end.”

  “I’m confused.” He frowned. “So you do want this to be a friends with benefits thing.”

  “No, I—” I hesitated before finally blurting it out. “I thought that’s what you wanted. What you were willing to give.”

  His silence was as unnerving as his all-seeing stare. “You thought that’s what I’d want.”

  I couldn’t read his tone but the tension between us with so thick it was choking me. Or maybe that was tears. It had been a long time since I’d fought back tears and the feeling was more unpleasant than I’d remembered.

  It freakin’ hurt. My throat ached and my chest constricted and getting words out took effort. Still, that flicker of hope had reared up again at his odd reactions. He wasn’t sighing with relief that I understood, he wasn’t making excuses, he wasn’t giving me that cocky bravado that drove me nuts. He was just staring.

  “Isn’t it?” I asked. “Isn’t it what you want?”

  “Not with you.”

  “Oh.” My heart tripped over itself. “Then what do you want?”

  His answer was a kiss that made me forget the tears and the churning stomach and the fact that I had no pants on. It was hot and sweet, tender and passionate. It was the way he’d been kissing me all week but today there was an urgency to it that left me breathless.

  When he pulled back he cupped my face in his hands so I couldn’t look away. “I want to be with you. Really be with you.” He frowned and the fierceness in his look was at odds with the tender words. Somehow that made his unbelievable words somewhat believable. He was angry about it, angry with me.

  “You want us to be a couple?” I needed confirmation. I needed a definition.

  “Yes, Maya,” he said, a slight hint of that amused exasperation lacing his voice. “I want to be a couple.”

  “Then why did you tell your friend you don’t date? Why did you deny it when he asked if we were together?”

  He pulled back quickly. “You heard that?”

  He didn’t seem guilty and that made some tension ease. I nodded. “I heard that.”

  His laugh was humorless but it was still nice to see him laugh. It broke some of the intensity in his demeanor and he leaned forward, dropping his forehead to mine so our noses touched, our breath mingled. “I’m sorry you heard that. I just didn’t want to talk about us to anyone else before you and I had a chance to figure this out.”

  “Oh.” My word may not have given it away, but a lead weight inside me lifted at that simple, u
tterly believable explanation.

  “Yes, oh.” His face was too close to mine for me to read his expression but I was very familiar with that laughing tone. “I’m surprised that didn’t occur to you. You know, since you’re so smart and all.”

  His teasing was so familiar, so normal. Yet, I still had the uncomfortable tightness in my throat. Emotions were welling up that I didn’t know how to deal with. It was at times like this that I felt the most like a freak. I mean, I never really fit in at school or around my peers, but this was different. This overwhelming sensation made me panic, like some mysterious alien life force was about to erupt. It was going to come out in some way and I didn’t know how.

  I just hoped I didn’t throw up. There was way too much on the line right now for us to take a timeout so I could pray to the porcelain gods.

  “Hey,” he said, moving back so he could see me and taking hold of my hand on my lap. “We’re okay. We’ll figure this out.”

  I nodded, but the panicky sensation didn’t ease.

  “Come on,” he said as he came to a stand. Tugging on my hands he helped me up as well. He started to tug at the hem of my shirt and I frowned up at him. “What are you doing?”

  He slipped my shirt back off and wrapped an arm around me, leading me to the steps that led into the shallow section. “I’m teaching you how to swim.”

  I stared down at the water at my feet. “Why?”

  “Because I want to.”

  I looked up at him, this golden god with the six-pack abs and the chiseled jaw. He who looked so at ease in the water, and among our peers, and running on the beach. “That’s not a good answer.”

  He shrugged. “But it’s the answer you’re getting.”

  I turned back to scowl down at the water as he led me down a couple steps. The water was surprisingly warm, his arm strong and supportive around my waist.

  “Why have you never learned?” His tone was too casual.

  I shrugged. “Why are you teaching me how to swim at a time like this?”

  His laugh was low and soft. “I thought it might be a good idea to get you out of your head.”

  The water was up to my waist and that panicky sensation was slowly being replaced by trepidation over being in the water. “I don’t think your idea was a good one.”