Page 51 of The Overdue Kiss

“Stay. Please. Your presence is soothing.”

“I don’t think my cousins would agree with you.” She chuckles into my arm.

“Well, they’d be wrong.”

The peacefulness of the evening washes over us. Confessions about feelings, things I’ve never spoken about before, bubble up inside me. Nervously, I swallow them back down like a bad case of reflux, wondering how long I can hold off until it happens again.

Maya hums softly, content.

“You know this is kinda nice being out here with you. I didn’t realize how noisy it was in there until I stepped outside.” She glances around. “It’s a shame they don’t utilize this space more. It’s turned into a storage lot where my dad stows all his landscaping tools.”

Most of the yard is shaded by overgrown aspen trees, but the space available has rows of potted plants, bags of mulch, and different piles of rocks. Two riding lawn mowers are covered under tarps, and three sheds line the backyard with bags of fertilizer stacked outside.

“Do you think he would come out to Rocosa to spruce up my yard?”

“You don’t need it. It’s really lovely.”

“It could use some flowers, and I can’t remember which ones grow well together or which season to plant them. My granny usually handled those things.”

Despite it being four years after her passing, the stab of melancholy cuts into me deep, gutting me when I least expect it. A reminder that Granny isn’t here anymore, and those special moments of seeing her elbow-deep in her flower bed and singing at the top of her lungs would never happen again. There’d be no more reassuring hugs or sitting on the porch under the stars with her.

She is gone... and I never got to say goodbye.

My breath catches at the thought, my eyes misting.

“Des?” Maya asks.

I try to shove the sadness back inside and shake off the ghosts of the past, but it’s harder this time, like somehow my heart cracked open again when I wasn’t paying attention. The last thing I need is to be a blubbering mess with Maya standing next to me.

But she surprises me and throws her arms around my middle, pressing her head into my shoulder in comfort.

I break. Tears spring up, sliding down my face as I cling to her, resting my cheek against her head. Years of memories flood me, threatening to pull me under again to all the doubts and regrets. In that dark place, I hear Maya’s soft words whisper over me, piercing through the void.

“I’m here.”

Then she prays. Words that fill me with strength and hope followed by a peace I hadn’t realized was missing.

After a few minutes, I take a shaky breath and swipe a sleeve across my eyes. “I don’t think I’ve cried like that since her funeral.”

“Good. You’ve been storing it up, and it needed to be released. From what you told me, she has a special place in your heart. You’re going to feel her loss from time to time when you least expect it—and that’s okay. Don’t bottle it up. Cry it out.”

“Thank you.”

I dash the last of the tears away, knowing I should feel embarrassed. I cried all over a girl I like and so desperately want to impress. But really, I feel closer to her now, connected almost. And the fact that she is still here, snuggling close, makes me like her even more.

Maybe more than I care to admit.

“We don’t have to stay any longer. I’m ready to head back to Rocosa if you are,” she says. Her fingers trace lazy shapes on my back as she waits.

“Sure.” I squeeze her once before letting her go, wishing we could stay in the moment.

As I pull back, Maya cups my face, freezing me in place. Her thumb brushes my damp cheekbone, and my focus pinpoints to her as the world around me fades away. Her glossy brown eyes hold my stare, searing me to my core.

“You’re going to be all right, Des. You just have a big heart, and big hearts bruise the easiest.”

A gentle gust teases the ends of her curls, waving them in the breeze. Unable to stop myself, I hold out a hand, letting the silky ends dance over my palm. In a brave move, I slide both hands into her hair, letting my fingers graze her scalp and tilt her face to mine. I inhale her delicious scent, the sweet vanilla that lingers on my jacket from our rides... one that I will never forget.

To say that Maya consumes my thoughts is the understatement of the year. Her lips call to me, begging me to lean down and kiss the fullness of her smile. Her pulse races behind her ear, and my thumb flicks one of her book earrings playfully. She smiles, a small one, fighting against her instinct to run from the romantic tension between us.

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