"That wasn't a kiss."
"It wasn't?" I ask, my eyes returning to his.
"No, it was a new technique used to save someone."
"Really? I've never heard of that."
He laughs. "Riley, I'm joking. And I shouldn't have done that. That was a horrible first kiss."
"So why'd you do it?"
"I wasn't thinking. It just happened. That night at the brewery, I kept thinking about kissing you. I wanted to, but then I didn't, but I wish I had. The next day when you were lying there during the training and I was touching you, looking at your beautiful face, my mind went right back to the night before and how much I wanted to kiss you. When I went to give you breaths after the compressions, all I could think about was kissing you. I did everything possible to put it out of my head as I lowered my mouth to yours. I pretended I was saving you, which worked for the first breath, but not the second. I just wish it'd been a real kiss so I knew what it really felt like to kiss you."
I swallow. "Then do it."
"Do what?"
"Kiss me." I sit up straighter. "That way you'll know and can stop wondering."
He smiles. "You want me to kiss you? And this is simply to satisfy my curiosity?"
"Yes, unless you're no longer wondering what it'd be like, in which case we could skip it."
"Oh, I'm definitely still wondering."
"Then go ahead." I stick my head out and close my eyes.
He laughs. "I can't kiss you like that."
I open my eyes. "Why not?"
"Because it's not natural. It's too forced, like we're doing an experiment."
"Isn't that what this is? We wondered what it'd be like if we really kissed, right?"
He cocks his head. "You wondered about it too?"
"Oh, um, well...maybe a little."
"Huh." His sexy smile remains as his hand cups my face and he leans me back on the couch.
My chest is rising up and down as my heart tries to keep up with its ever-increasing pace. I close my eyes and feel his warm breath, then his lips. Oh, God, his lips. So soft, and they know just what to do to fill my body with those glorious tingles. His tongue swipes over mine like it did that day at the pool, like he's reminding me of it. His kiss deepens, his tongue moving in a slow seductive way. I wrap my hand behind his neck, wanting more, wanting him closer. I feel the weight of his body lowering over mine. My hips automatically arch into him and I hear him groan. Sinking farther down on the couch, I rake my fingers down his back as he trails kisses along my neck.
"God, Riley," he groans.
"I know," I whisper.
One kiss. That's all it took to confirm these feelings we have for each other aren't just in our heads. They're real. And it's not just attraction. There's something else. The something else I wish I felt for Nate but never have. It's that spark. A connection I can't yet explain. The feeling there could actually be something between us. Something more than a night or a few casual dates.
I bring his face back to mine and kiss him as his hand slides down my side, then up to my breast.
"Brad," I moan, as he continues to touch me with his strong, skillful hands.
My hips grind into him, rubbing against the part of him I want more than anything right now. My head says it's too soon for that, but my body disagrees, becoming even more aroused as Brad slips his hand under my shirt, moving it along my waist then up my back to my bra.
My phone rings, startling me and taking me out of this blissful moment.
I push Brad off me and search for my phone.
"What are you doing?" he asks.
"My phone." I get up and find it on the floor by the couch. I pick it up and see it's my mom calling. "I have to get this," I say, glancing back at Brad who's looking at me like I'm crazy for stopping what we were doing to answer the phone. But my mom never calls when she's on a date, so it could be an emergency.
"Mom, is something wrong?" I answer.
"No, I just wanted to tell you I'm staying at Dave's tonight."
"What about his dog?"
"He's staying with Dave's sister."
"Okay. Well, goodnight." I end the call and sit back on the couch next to Brad.
"Everything, alright?" he asks.
"Yeah, she was just telling me she's staying at Dave's." I set my phone on the coffee table. "She usually doesn't call, so I had to make sure it wasn't an emergency."
He turns to me. "What kind of emergency?"
I shrug. "In jail. The hospital. Passed out on the side of the road. Anything's possible. Depends on how much she's been drinking." I look down. "I'm sure Nate's told you about her."
"Not much. Is she an alcoholic?"
"For as long as I can remember," I say, picking at the lint balls on the couch. I wish we could get a new one. This one came from the dumpster and smells like cigarettes and mold.
"Has she ever gone for treatment?" Brad asks.
I shake my head. "We can't afford treatment. Even if we could, she wouldn't go. She doesn't think she has a problem. She says if she was a drunk, she wouldn't have kept her job this long."
"Has she shown up to work drunk?"
"At least once a month, sometimes more. But she doesn't get in trouble for it. Renee, our boss, just sends her home."
"How could she not get fired for that?"
I sigh. "Long story."
"One you don't want to talk about?"
My eyes lift to his and I see his concern. Genuine concern, like he really does care and isn't just asking because he feels like he has to.
"It's not that. It's just—" I pause, turning to him. "My mom had me at 15. She got pregnant at fourteen. The guy, my dad, told her he loved her, but he only said it so she'd have sex with him. She never saw him again after that night. When her dad found out she was pregnant, he beat my mom so badly she passed out. When she woke up, he was gone."
"Where'd he go?"
"He drove out to the woods." I pause. "And shot himself."
"Holy shit," Brad mutters. He reaches over and takes my hand. "Riley, I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I never knew him. Actually, I'm happy I never did. He was an abusive bastard. And it sounds like my grandma wasn't much better. She took off when my mom was three. Never came back."
"So your grandfather..." Brad waits for me to confirm it.
"Killed himself. The bullet went through his brain. He was dead when they found him. He left a note in his truck telling my mom it was her fault. That she's the reason he killed himself."
"Fuck," Brad says, shaking his head. "No wonder your mom's so messed up."
"Nate says that's just an excuse and she needs to get over it, but it's not that easy."
"So what happened to her? After her dad died?"
"She went into foster care. She didn't get along with her foster parents so she took off when she turned 18. I was almost three at the time. We would've been living on the streets, but then Renee, the lady who owns the salon, told her aunt about us. Her aunt's a social worker. She took us in. She paid for my mom to go to beauty school, then got her the job at the salon. She made my mom start paying her rent, but she was actually saving the money so my mom wouldn't spend it. She used the money to get us the trailer. We moved in when I was six and have been here ever since."