Page 59 of Best I Never Had

With my hand still in his, I half expect him to bring it to his lips. Instead, he taps the tip of my nose before turning toward the car, where Dexter sits at the driver’s seat and a blonde woman with a polite smile to his right.

“Come on, kids! The cake isn’t going to eat itself.”

We pull to a stop in front of a large chapel, stone, brick, and stained glass all nestled in its own arrangement of trees. Trees that still hold the fullness of leaves and haven’t fallen to the ground just yet, ranging in color from forest green to canary yellow and marigold orange. I feel a gratifying rush float through my lungs with the deep exhale that takes every bit of affliction and doubt I’ve felt since Matteo and I broke up, and in the short time since Hayden reentered my life. Suddenly, it’s all been replaced with expectancy. And I don’t even know for what.

But for some reason, I can’t help but connect my kiss with Hayden to it. While I knew why Hayden kissed me, I can’t shut down how tender and soft it felt. How it was as if I had been kissing Hayden my whole life and I couldn’t remember my life before it. Did my lips always feel this empty without him? Did my body crave his hands gripping my waist and tugging at my chin before I knew what his touch felt like?

I tried to forget all those thoughts and the fire that still lined my skin where he touched me as soon as I returned home from our day of karaoke and drinking. I tried but failed miserably. Instead, a jittery set of nerves settled in my stomach anticipating today. And now, being here with him, it’s bringing back the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms all over again, feeling like I’ve come up for air. Like life is being breathed into me, lighting something fierce and unforgettable.

The four of us exit the car and stand on the long gravel pathway leading up the steps of the church with guests slowly trickling in, wearing brightsmiles and fitted formal attire. As I smooth down the tulle material of my skirt, I feel a warm hand lightly press into the small of my back.

“You ready?” Hayden asks, the box holding his gift in his large hands.

I turn to face him. I quickly tuck my jeweled clutch under my arm and bring my hands up toward the neatly tied knot of Hayden’s tie, adjusting it so it sits straight rather than at an angle.

His Adam’s apple bobs as his eyes light up, and he smiles down at me. My eyes flit to his mouth, thinking about how the swollen pout of his lower lip pulled my own into him when he kissed me. How the rough pad of his thumb tugged at the curve of my jaw, opening me up to him as I tasted him in a way that I didn’t think possible. He tasted like caramel and sweet cream and a tender warmth that was somehow inviting but flustering at the same time.

“All set,” I say, turning my head in the subtlest of shakes while lightly patting his chest.

But we don’t move. Instead, we stay, facing each other, looking into each other’s eyes as the sounds of happy chatter and crunched footsteps muffle around us. Hayden brushes a lock of my hair off my shoulder, moving it so that it rests across my shoulder blade rather than my chest. When he does this, his fingertips graze the sensitive skin of my collarbone. And without even thinking about it, my eyes flutter. He must see it, my lids falling heavy and my breathing hitching, because his fingers don’t leave my skin. Instead, his hand roams from the base of my neck to my shoulders, trailing a pathway of static down my arm to my hand, where it finally rests.

Our fingers tickle each other, and we’re sitting in limbo where we question what to do next. Do I take his hand in mine? Do we continue this dance, this push and pull of electricity between us?

“Let’s head in, guys,” Dexter calls, interrupting whatever unspoken questions I’m coaxing answers for, causing Hayden to drop his hand to his side.

I don’t miss the way my hand feels empty, completely vacant and bare, when Hayden turns away from me. And I also don’t miss the clenched tic of his jaw as his eyes narrow, his gaze falling to my hand.

My heart starts to pound in my chest, banging against my ribcage, protesting this overwhelming feeling where every vulnerable and weak cleft of my heart feels exposed. I can’t do this again. I can’t risk getting my heart broken again and having to pick up those shattered pieces only to glue them back together haphazardly. And while if it were anyone else, someone where the risks aren’t as high and it would be something to consider venturing into, it wouldn’t be the case with Hayden. Because if things don’t work out, I wouldn’t only be losing someone that I had a memorable yet fleeting kiss with; I would be losing the closest thing to a best friend I’ve ever had.

Hayden clears his throat, gently placing a hand on my lower back again, where it feels safer. I muster a smile, one that wipes away our kiss from my memory and replaces it with all of the moments that wouldn’t be there if Hayden weren’t in my life.

“Come on,” he says in a strained voice.

23

Hayden

senior year

“So,how goes the prom date search?” I ask as Natalia adjusts her safety goggles, moving her neatly knotted French braid down one shoulder to avoid it from getting in the way of our lab samples.

She groans. “Ugh, don’t ask.”

“I find it hard to believe that not a single person has asked you.”

“No, I’ve been asked. I just…” She looks at me, her shoulders dropping as if defeated in this whole search for the perfect prom date. “There’s really no one I want to go with.”

“Oh, so you have options,” I tease.

“Hayden,” she whines, silently begging me to stop.

“My offer’s still on the table. You could save yourself from all this drama and go with the future prom king of 2014.” My brows waggle at her as her mouth scrunches into an angry pout.

“Aren’t you going with Jenny?”

“Who told you?”

“Jenny.”

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