Page 23 of The Truth About Love

I’ve never had anyone look further than my perpetual resting bitch face, let alone right into the very depths of my soul. But it’s not as if Auden is saying anything that isn’t true. So, although it’s hard to hear, I can’t really be mad at him for that.

And maybe, if I’m truly honest with myself, I actually like it.

“Yeah.”

The smile he gives me is brighter than the lights on the boulevard behind us and it’s impossible not to return it.

Long fingers reach out to brush hair behind my ear, the way they always do when Auden and I are within touching distance, and I lean into them.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Summer-Raine.” His hand moves to cup my cheek. “Is that okay?”

I’m momentarily stunned. My mouth opens to speak but no words make it out.

Do I want Auden to kiss me?

My initial reaction is stone-cold fear, causing my entire body to seize in panic. But the soft back and forth of Auden’s thumb on my skin brings me back to the moment the way rainfall usually does.

And I realise, yeah I do.

Ireallywant Auden to kiss me.

He must see the answer on my face because he blinks slowly as if to prepare himself before slowly lowering his mouth to mine.

And then it’s happening.

His lips, softer than silk, move against me. Gentle. Sweet. Coaxing. The hand on my face is warm and safe, and he brings the other to my waist, wrapping around me and pulling me into him.

Sparks shoot through me, heat burning at every point where his skin meets mine. When he nibbles at my bottom lip, I gasp, sucking in air like I’m drowning. He takes full advantage, slipping his tongue into my open mouth and sliding it against mine.

This, right here, his tongue, his hands, his body against me, it’severything.

The mix of his sweetness with the tang of the lemonade we drank at dinner is a dizzying cocktail that intoxicates me more than any liquor ever could.

“Goddamn, Summer-Raine,” he rasps, breaking our kiss.

But I wind my fingers into the hair at the base of his neck and pull him back into me. I feel his chuckle against my lips, though it morphs into a low groan the moment I tentatively brush my tongue up against his.

I can’t get enough of this feeling.

It’s like every atom in my body is trembling with the ecstasy of it all.

Auden must feel the same because when he finally wrenches himself away from me, his pupils are dilated and his chest heaves.

“Gotta stop, baby,” he breathes.

I eye him quizzically.

“Can’t take all your firsts in one night.” He winks and I giggle, still drunk on the taste of him. “Come on, it’s time I get you home.”

The drive back to my house is quiet. We listen to late night radio, driving with the windows down and his hand on my thigh.

When I climb into bed, the wildflowers he bought for me arranged in a glass of water on the table beside me, I dream of the town’s star quarterback and the taste of citrus on his lips.

And it’s the first time in four years that I don’t make myself bleed in order to fall asleep.

Chapter Seven

Auden

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