One Little Kiss Page 3
“No. Not at all really.” I grab my pint and take a sip before continuing. “I was very sick for a few years. When we weren’t off to see a specialist we stayed close to home, close to my medical team.”
I think back on those years. The somber drives to the appointments and the even darker ones on the return home. Vacations were taken but all under the unspoken umbrella that it might be the last time.
“You’re okay now?” Gabe asks, bringing me back to the pub and the conversation.
“Yes. Six years in remission and doing fine.” I turn and catch Jonas’ eye and I see he is already watching me, his smile tender and sad. This is one night of fucked up revelations and I lean into him and feel his left hand under the table, lightly brushing against my thigh. Silent encouragement, a connection, and so much more. “I’m ready for the next adventure.”
Gabe and Peter nod, thinking I’m just talking about the trip but I’m not. I tear my gaze away from Jonas because I don’t want him to see what crazy shit is pinging around in my head right now. I think back to his revelation in the street and the grief that surges up from my soul makes my hand shake as I lift my glass to my lips once more.
I’ve spent four years telling myself that this thing with Jonas is the product of an overly romanticized night involving a girl away from home for the first time and a sweet, sexy, smooth-talking boy who made her feel desirable every time he called her “Red”. But I think I might be wrong.
I am Red.
His Red.
And I love him.
All the time I wasted with Brian was marking time, passing time with someone who was safe and acceptable and fit in the box I put him in. It’s no wonder he moved on to somebody who really wanted him and left behind the role of understudy to the lead actor in my little life drama.
Yes. I was devastated when he broke it off with me but I figured out a while ago that it was all ego. I stung with the hurt of him finally figuring me out and calling me on it. And who was the person I ran to?
Jonas.
I hadn’t given it a second thought at the time but I’ve done a lot of second-guessing since then because I didn’t want to think about what it really meant. And I don’t know if it’s the fact that he’s going blind or the fact that I’m finally getting up the nerve to live, but I want my future to include the man sitting beside me.
But I can’t forget the fact that he’s avoided me since our night together. He’s figuring shit out in his head. I get it, I really do. Learning that your body is not something you can control and it can turn on you at a moment’s notice plays serious fuckery with your brain.
So, I do what I always do when the floor falls out from under me and I need something to help me land safely.
I grab Wonder Woman, walk to the little platform and start to play.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jonas
She’s killing me.
Seriously. Every note of the song she plays is cutting in deep. I know she’s upset, the news I delivered was hard for her to take because she cares. Leighton and I have always existed in this “Will they? Won’t they?” alternative universe but we’re friends and my illness will impact her deeply. But I also saw the look she laid on me before she stood up to play and I remember the kiss out on the street and suddenly everything is really complicated.
The pub is silent, only the rattle of dishes and the low-level murmurings of the wait staff as they continue to serve the crowd. Leighton is standing on the tiny stage, eyes closed, her bow moving in a gorgeous sweep across the strings as she brings the notes to living, breathing, shimmering life. I’ve painted her like this before. That space where she exists when she’s performing is golden hued and warm. Nothing can touch her there and she is breathtakingly beautiful.
I have at least a dozen canvases to prove it.
“Your girlfriend is brilliant,” Gabe whispers as he leans across the table. “I’ve never heard anyone play like that.”
“She’s played since she was three or four years old. She’s on a full music scholarship at school.” I pause and then correct him. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
I ignore the pang in my chest when I say the words out loud.
“Really? I just thought…” Gabe lets his words fade into the music as he settles back in his chair.
The plaintive tune is sad and deep and aching with every drop of her emotions and I know she’s playing for me even before our gazes meet across the room. I shiver, the sensation flashing down my spine, my arms, along my scalp. Leighton sways, stuttering a note and I realize she feels it too. Fuck. This is nuts. I won’t survive the night at this rate.
She ends on a sweetly singular note that seems to stretch into the stillness until it fades away on an echo. The crowd is silent, suspended with the last fragments of the sound and then they blow up in applause. She breaks eye contact with me to smile at her audience, dipping her head in thanks as they add a few wolf whistles to the clamor. She laughs and tosses back her fall of auburn hair, lifts Wonder Woman to her shoulder and stomps out a heavy, quick beat on the floor before launching into a lively Celtic song made for a pub crowd.
I exhale the breath I was holding and shake it off. Grabbing the fresh beer Ryan has placed on the table, I take a long swallow, hoping the alcohol will take the edge off.
“The first time Peter looked at me like that, I ran,” Gabe says, exchanging a rueful smile with his husband.
“I did not follow him,” Peter adds. “But I did the next time. And the next.”
“It’s complicated,” I say, unable to find a word to describe it better. I was not an English major.
“It always is when it’s intense,” Peter observes.
I stare at them, wondering just how much of my crap they want to hear. Fuck it. This night is already beyond weird. I can’t talk to Landon about this. She’s his sister. I might as well unload my life on complete strangers.
“I’m going blind,” I begin, adding quickly when they look alarmed and begin to murmur words of condolence. I wave them off. “It sucks and it is a game changer for me. Flipped my whole future upside down. But I’m okay right now.”
I know I sound borderline flippant but I’m not. My life has been upended by this fuckery and I’m waiting for the anvil of grief, anger, and everything else to hit me and drill me into the ground. But for right now, I’m keeping my shit together. One minute at a time.
“Does she know?” Gabe inquires.
I nod. “I told her just before we came in here. I thought her twin—my best friend— told her but for once in his life he kept a secret.”
“How’d she take it?” Peter asks.
“She was Leighton,” I shrug, processing all the stuff mashing up in my brain. I try to explain this complex, smart, strong, and kind woman to them. “She was really sick like she said. It was leukemia and her family freaked out as anyone would. They started to think she was weak, fragile, but she’s the strongest of all of them. She isn’t brash or in-your-face about it. Leighton has this core of steel. She’s solid. Nothing can move her from what she knows is right or wants to do.”
Gabe says, “It sounds like she’s the perfect woman to be with you as you deal with everything.”
I nod. He couldn’t be more right or wrong.
“She’d be great, my rock. I know it.”
“But…?”
I inhale deeply, diving in to scoop out the worst of it and throw it on the table in front of these guys who probably realize that they have gotten stuck with the crazy.
“I’m so fucked in the head right now I don’t even know what I want to do with this mess.” I lay it all out there methodically, the business side of my brain kicking in to help me put it all in the right box. “I’m leaving school two months before graduation to travel, paint, and take some time to figure it out. I have no idea where I’m coming out at the end or when I’m coming back. I just know I need to keep moving at this point.” I run my hands over my face, fatigue seeping out of my pores. It
has been a long ass day. “She’s got this opportunity with the philharmonic.” I turn to look at her playing her heart out and I choke down the emotion that is rolling in my stomach. “Listen to her. She’s got a goddamn gift and I will not get in the way of it.”
“I’m assuming you haven’t talked about any of this with her?” Gabe asks, continuing when I shake my head.
He turns to Peter and whatever passes between them is bittersweet and very precious. When he looks back at me, his expression is calm, peaceful. A sharp stab of jealousy hits me right over the heart. I haven’t had that since I got the diagnosis, except for the few hours spent in bed with Leighton.
“I wasn’t out when I met Peter. I knew my family would not be supportive, that I would lose them if they knew. How did you put it?” Gabe cocks his head at me and smiles. “Oh yeah…fucked in the head. That was me. Totally fucked in the head.”
“He was a gorgeous mess and I didn’t care,” Peter adds, reaching out to take Gabe’s hand. “He fought me every step of the way. He broke up with me. We got back together. I left him when I got tired of being in the closet with him. It was a roller coaster ride and not the fun kind.”
Gabe jumps back in. “I know it isn’t the same as what you are going through, but at the time it felt like I was going to lose a limb, something vital, if I had to watch my family walk away from me. No more Christmases, no more family vacations to the beach. There would be a lifetime of family photos without me in them. Those memories would never happen. It killed me.” He took a deep breath, letting out the shakes that had taken over the last few lines. “I also knew Peter was it for me, just as essential. I couldn’t breathe when he wasn’t with me. It was really hard.”
“So what happened? I assume you came out because you got married. Did your family come around?” I ask.
He shakes his head, bone deep sadness diluting the joy in his expression. “No, they didn’t. The worst happened and I lost them.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.” And I was but I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “So what changed your mind? What made you take the leap?”
They look at each other and I once again feel like I’m interrupting something special, a voyeur to a private moment.
Gabe speaks, never taking his eyes off Peter. “I thought of all those moments. Snapshots in my mind. Memories. He wouldn’t be in them and that felt wrong down to my soul. I knew I would look back over my life and I’d know that something was missing. I would never have a complete picture. My life would never be whole and those memories, without him in them, would be meaningless.”
“So he asked me to marry him,” Peter added, his grin growing with every word. “Turned up at my office three months after our final breakup and got down on one knee with the ring and I said yes.”
“Best. Memory. Ever,” Gabe said and leaned over for a kiss.
I watched them have their moment. It was impossible for me to look away. I’d have to be a clueless asshole to not understand their message. Did I want to lose Leighton and all those potential memories? My heart said no, pounding in my chest like a drum. My head said that I didn’t even know what was going to happen to me and that I couldn’t drag her into the unknown like that. The scared part of me wanted to cling to her and hold on tight. It was a selfish impulse and I would not act on it. Not when she had all this good stuff ahead of her.
I am not that guy.
Leighton finishes playing and steps down from the platform, slowly making her way to the table as best she can with all the people shaking her hand and cheering her on. She glows—cheesy but true—the music lighting her up from the inside. Auburn hair, cheeks pinked with her exertion and those damn fire engine red lips create a picture that I cannot tear my eyes away from. I take a mental photo of this moment, not just to paint later but to file away for when the darkness descends.
Peter and Gabe leap up when she gets to the table.
“You were amazing!”
“Thanks,” she says, looking over to me as she put Wonder Woman away in her case. “You okay?”
I nod. “Great. You were wonderful as usual.”
She blushes, dipping her head and smiling wider at my compliment. I cannot help but smile back, enjoying her happiness in this moment.
Ryan rushes over to the table, pushing a paper bag covered item into her hands just as she gets her violin tucked away.
“Payment for your services,” he says and plops down four shot glasses on the table. “You were fantastic. Come back anytime!”
She peeks into the bag and gives a little yelp of delight, pulling out the half size bottle of Jameson whiskey and showing it around.
“Anybody care to join me?”
We all agree, not crazy enough to turn it down. We sit while she opens the bottle and pours each of us a double.
“Are you trying to kill us?” Peter laughs.
“You’re a big boy.” She raises her glass and gives a salute. “To snowstorms and cancelled flights.”
We all join her and she pours another round that ends with Gabe lifting his glass. “To memories worth keeping.”
He looks at me when we drink and I don’t know whether to laugh or pour another shot.
Leighton slides a glance between us, places her shot glass down with a thud on the table, and reaches for her coat.
“Jonas you grab Wonder Woman and I’ll take the booze.”
“We’re going?” I ask, surprised. I don’t have an objection to it but I figured she’d want to stay.
“If we finish off the bottle tonight, I want to be in the hotel,” she says and quickly passes hugs, kisses and email addresses to Peter and Gabe.
“Congratulations,” I say as I shake Gabe’s hand goodbye.
“It’s not easy but it’s worth it.” He glances over to Leighton and then looks back to me. “She’s strong. You said it yourself.”
I nod, not knowing how to answer without starting a conversation that Leighton will want to join. I’m not ready to talk to her about it yet.
“Come on sailor,” she jokes as she leads me out of the pub, her hand clasped in mine once again. I hang on like she’s my lifeline and let her lead me straight into temptation or deliverance. Either one will do.
We hit the street and the winter wonderland hasn’t changed except that the snow is deeper. Drifts are piling up against the buildings and the curbs and sidewalks have disappeared. The way back to the hotel will be tricky with no clue about what is underneath the pile of white so I lead her to the middle of the deserted street once again.
“I feel a little stoned,” she says. I raise an eyebrow at that one.
“You only had a beer and two shots.”
“It’s the music. Pure endorphins. It’s better than any drug. I get so amped up when I play I could stay up all night.” She throws her head back, welcoming the fall of the flakes on her face. “Second star on the right and on until morning.”
I laugh. She’s quoting her favorite play, “Peter Pan”. She must be flying.
“You were amazing. As usual.” I am mesmerized by the way the glistening snow lands on her lipstick, shimmers for a moment and then dissolves into the blood red of her lips. I want to lean over and lick them off. She would taste like whiskey, and winter cold, and Leighton.
She smiles and pulls her hand out of mine, skipping ahead a couple of steps before lying down on the snow and making a snow angel. Her arms and legs make a wide pattern and I notice that she still has the bottle of whiskey in her hand.
“A drunk snow angel?” I joke. “Bad girl.”
“Hey, even the angels have to sin at some point. Otherwise they never get to repent.” She stops her movement, lying there with snow quickly covering her coat and clothes, smiling like she’s on a beach in Tahiti. Crazy girl.
I could stare at her forever.
I extend my hand to her. “Get up evil angel. You’re going to freeze.”
She takes my hand and stands, shaking off the snow like a puppy and I can’t help but la
ugh. What she says next, and the sexy way she says it, wipes the smile off my face.
“I know you’ll warm me up.” Leighton lifts up the small distance necessary to make up for our height difference and kisses me. Neither one of us closes our eyes as our lips brush against each other. It should be too sweet to get me going but my dick hardens in my jeans and I strain to resist the urge to drag her even closer.
Leighton breaks off the kiss but does not move away. Her eyes are dark, pupils wider with her arousal. I lick my lips. Just like I thought: whiskey, winter, and her.
“Red, what’s going on?”
“Let’s get drunk and tell each other everything we’re afraid to say sober.”
I choke, something between a laugh and something far more emotional tangling in my throat. She’s quoting me. It was the dicktastic line I laid on her the first night we met four years ago.
“How could you stand me that night?” I ask.
“I thought you were hot,” she says and we both chuckle before her expression morphs back into longing and I’m lost. “Let’s be those kids. Let it end the way it should have that first night. My brother isn’t your roommate and he doesn't scare you off.”
Off limits. That’s what Landon had said when he saw me kiss her. He told me she was fragile, that I needed to be careful with her. But she wasn’t weak. She was strong but living for other people, protecting them with her caution. They didn’t realize the difference or the sacrifice. The only thing she didn’t compromise was her music.
The girl with the music was the one who rocked my bed as the year ended. I want that girl. I want to be the guy she met that first night. I want the thing that began with one little kiss and had such promise. If only for one night—I want it.
I take off a glove and raise my hand to trace a fingertip along her jaw.
“Your hand will freeze,” she protests as the same time she leans into my caress.
“I don't care. I have to touch you.”
I dive into her mouth, taking possession quickly, desperately and she opens to me on a hungry groan. Her tongue duels with mine for domination as she digs her fingers into my coat and drags me closer. The thud of the whiskey bottle slipping out of her hand and landing in the snow is not enough to make me stop. I cup her head, angling her lips as I take it deeper one more time before I break it off. I’m panting, out of breath but she finds a way to speak.