What A Kiss Is

Chapter Thirteen

JE L’AIMERAI

And I would love it. A smile spreads wide across my face. Okay, so maybe Amber’s right to think I’m a jerk, but a visit from Hélèna, especially when Amber’s still so distant, sounds about perfect.

Amber uses a nice small, responsible amount of water. The weight of disappointment adds to the rest of the weight when she comes out fully dressed.

“Can I hang with you in here?” she asks. “Our parents get all crazy on each other when they let themselves, and I don’t think I could stomach it.”

“I won’t be good company.” Mostly I’ll be staring at you, wishing I could have something that’s apparently off-limits and wishing I didn’t miss my mom so much.

“I’m in the middle of another good book.” She winks.

Right, she’s reading mine. “Sure.”

In two minutes her head is on the opposite side of my bed and she’s stretched out on one side, and I’m stretched out on the other. She lounges with her kindle resting on a knee so she can read. I try not to watch her, but do anyway, glancing over my iPad every few minutes.

She twirls this loose strand of hair without conscious thought. Her lips press together occasionally, and every once in a while, her eyebrows twitch. It’s killing me to not know what she’s thinking.

Dad’s chuckle from the other room is followed by her mom’s flirtatious laughter, and now I know what Amber meant, because they sound like a couple of kids chasing each other. When I look back toward Amber, she’s watching me. Her blue eyes look soft, and suddenly her whole demeanor changes as her face pulls into a smirk.

“Told you they got obnoxious.”

I nod once in response, every part of my body wishing she was closer. She’s back into the book, but her leg rests off to the side and touches mine. It’s casual but so much. It sends waves through me. Never has something so relaxed on a girl’s part, made me so tense on mine.

“Sorry.” She jerks her leg up.

“It’s fine.” I reach out, touch the inside of her knee and relax her leg back down.

Now, instead of smiling and making eye contact, like I’d do with anyone else. I pick my iPad back up and continue reading. I think that showing her I want her here will only scare her further away. It feels like I’m doing everything opposite of what I normally do with girls.

After about 30 minutes, our legs are a tangled mess between us, and I can’t think about it too much because getting excited with her here, and while I’m in loose knit sweatpants, probably won’t help my cause of getting closer.

For me, us sitting here in our hang out clothes, legs together, is way more personal than kissing. To Amber it isn’t. But it leads up to it. I hope.      

Maybe I shouldn’t have sent the text to Hélèna.

- - -

“The girls went to town,” Dad says.

“I figured.” We’re outside of some small city in British Columbia. If the girls aren’t on the boat, they’ll be shopping for food or books.

“I need to change one of the batteries. It’s not charging. I could use some help.” Dad pulls a few small tools out from under the sink.

“From me?” I ask. To change batteries?

“Yeah.” Dad chuckles as he looks up from where he’s crouched on the floor. “From you.”