Pocket Full of Posies

Chapter Thirty-Eight

  For most people love works out like this: boy meets girl, girl likes boy, boy asks girl out, there are some innocent glances, lingering brushing of fingers, some too long makeout sessions, and then before you know it boy and girl are hopelessly in love. Since boy and girl have been in an established relationship for X amount of time, it is perfectly acceptable for one of them to share their feelings to the other one.

But for me, love worked like this: girl and boy meet, become friends, stay friends, girl hits puberty and realizes holy mother of God boy is actually super cute, crush never fades and only intensifies, girl keeps quiet, boy is just her friend, girl wouldn't want to ruin a good friendship. Years down the road, girl finds herself in love with boy, boy has no idea. Then one terrible night of drinking and lack of judgment, girl and boy dance closely, boy gets handsy, girl gets her hopes up, and girl mistakenly blurts she's in love with boy in a club on a crowded dance floor. Boy freaks out. Girl is left alone crying.

It felt great—feeling Evan's hands on my waist, my hips, and, at one point, dangerously close to my butt. We were both slightly intoxicated so we just did what the music was telling our bodies to do. I'd spin and have my back pressed against him, reaching behind me to run my hand up his neck, fingers through his hair. For a few, blissful moments I could pretend. I could pretend we were more than friends and that this wasn't something new, uncharted for us. I could pretend we went out every weekend and danced like this—not drunk.

We fit—like a puzzle piece.

The way he held me close to him and danced with me...I knew—I just knew—he could feel it too.

My heart sung at this revelation I was having. Evan had to love me, he had to! And he had to know I loved him, too. I wasn't that great of a liar, come on. Marley saw right through me only after knowing me a few short weeks and she damn sure saw through me now. So how could someone who'd known me his whole life have no idea?

Exactly—he wouldn't.

So he had to know. There was just no way he didn't!

I spun back around to face him, testing the waters. My feet and hips stopped moving to the rhythm of the music. My eyes, instead, danced up to meet his gaze, watching the way he watched me. It seemed like more than a friend would. His beautiful, soft blue eyes looked down at me in a way they never had before. He wasn't swaying now, either.

Before I could overthink it, before I could lose my nerve yet again, I reached up. My hand grasped his neck, pulling his head down to me. I was on my tippy toes. And with a small, surprised gasp, I closed the distance between our lips. I kissed him hard, but his mouth felt soft. Oh God, it felt exactly like what I had been dreaming it'd feel like. For years, I'd fear it was all in my head and the second it would actually happen I'd be embarrassed and lose all romantic feelings I thought I'd had.

But that wasn't the case.

My heart soared—it was everything I'd dreamed and so much more.

And then his hands gripping my waist tightly. I thought he was pushing me away. But in an instant, his hand moved to my lower back, pulling me tighter against him. His other hand shot up to my cheek, then cradled my head, grasped my hair. He was kissing me back fiercely, kind of sloppily, but amazingly.

He was kissing me back.

And then we were just full on making out in the middle of the dance floor. But I didn't care. Was it what I had envisioned our first kiss to be like? No. But what did it matter? Evan was kissing me back! And, oh God, he was such a great kisser. I tried not to think of the past girlfriends he'd had and how he'd learned to become a great kisser from them.