“I know I don’t. But I want to.”
He takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself. Maybe he’s married. Maybe he’s an alien. Maybe I need to stop talking to myself in my head and pay attention.
“When I was a kid, I had cancer.”
This is not what I was expecting. “Oh. Alex.” I squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I mean, I’m fine now. It was acute lymphoid leukemia. It has a high survival rate, one of the less aggressive forms of the disease. But I still have to get tested every year, to make sure it hasn’t come back.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “Are you okay? Did it come back?” Is that why he was panicking? That was six months ago.
Holy shit, is he dying?
“I’m okay. I’m fine. But it’s always there, you know, in the back of my mind. Will it come back?”
“How did I not know about this?”
“It’s not something I share with anyone except my closest friends. And I was a minor, so it’s not like it’s public knowledge.”
I’m still absorbing the fact he shared something so personal with me, something he hardly tells anyone, when he keeps talking.
“No one is digging up my dirt much to care at this point. Besides, I didn’t want to use my cancer story to succeed. I wanted to do that on my own merits, you know? But every time I go and get tested—like I did that morning—I freak out a bit. And my point is, I guess, I understand what it’s like to feel out of control of your body, and it’s nothing that makes you any less worthy than anyone else. If anything, it makes you stronger.”
I shake my head. “Freaking out over cancer is normal, expected. I never had cancer. I have no reason to be afraid all the time. You do so many things without fear. You came into Blue Wave that first day, and even after the hallway incident, you walked in there and told all of us all about your failures. Total strangers, you just admitted all your mistakes like it was nothing. And in there,” I tilt my head in the direction of the Saloon, “on stage. I could never do that.”
“Sure you could.”
I give a short laugh. “You act like you’ve never seen me present in meetings.”
“Everyone gets nervous in front of a crowd. Including me. You hate talking in front of people, and you don’t like being the center of attention, but the important part is that you do it anyway. We have that in common. You think it makes you weak, but I think it makes you strong.”
If only he knew how long it took me to even brave this conversation. “I can’t believe you get nervous in front of a crowd. You do it with a lot more finesse and a lot less sweating.” I grimace.
He laughs and steps closer. “How’s the sweating right now? Is it okay?”
I shake my head. “It’s dubious at best. Subject to change at a moment’s notice.”
“I think I’ll risk it.” He takes another step in my direction. “And if I were to, say, ask you to dinner sometime or something, you would say . . .”
I laugh. “That’s very subtle. I would say yes. Definitely yes.”
He squeezes my hand. I stare down at our linked fingers. Am I floating? I must be floating. I can’t feel my head. Or my legs. My whole body is made of air. This is so surreal.
I take a breath and then one of his hands lifts to my cheek, tilting my head back. His lips brush against mine, a soft slide of pressure. He pulls back to look into my eyes.
His hand releases mine to cradle the other side of my face. He smiles once, a quick movement, his whole face alight for a blink of time, and then he’s kissing me again and holy crap he is good at this. His lips are warm and soft, but unrelenting. He kisses like he does everything else, with confident abandon, forcing my complete surrender. When his tongue brushes against mine, my insides turn into goo and my knees get weak. His arm moves around my waist, pulling me closer.
I don’t have any time to worry about my lips being chapped or my breath smelling like booze or any of the things I normally fret over because my mind is full of Alex. Only him. His smell, his fingers on my waist, the firm warmth of his body pressed against me. I push closer, craving more, needing all of it. His hand is a tender pressure on my face, fingers tracing my cheek. My arms are trapped between us and I pull them out, with every intention of wrapping them around his neck, but instead I accidently knock him in the chin with the backs of my hands.
He jerks back.
“Oh gosh, I’m so, so sorry.” Heat floods my face. I’m sure I’m bright red. I’ve ruined this magical moment.
He’s stunned for a second and then he laughs, exposing the strong column of his throat.
“Jane.” He leans his forehead against mine, still chuckling. “Don’t worry, it’s perfect.” Hot breath puffs against my lips, his mouth only inches from mine, a tempting torment, but then he pulls back. “So, dinner? Tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
It’s not perfect. Our first kiss and I punched him in the face.
But the bright side is I get a redo.
This time, I’m ready. I keep my hands at my side so when he leans in, I immediately raise them to his shoulders, sliding up to his neck as his mouth hits mine.
It’s just as magical as before. More magical, since the threat of punching him in the face has been eliminated—for now.
I can’t believe I’m actually kissing Alex. Alex! Even in my deepest, most secret fantasies, wishing for him to be mine was like wishing to become a superhero, or that I could eat nothing but carbs for the rest of my life and not
