Page 112 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“For the past three years, all of my relationships except a very few have been transitory. I haven’t had the chance to make many deep friendships.”

“Were you in love with Giselle?”

As soon as the words were out, she couldn’t believe she had asked them.

He looked away. “I wanted to be. Itriedto be. I cared about Giselle. Still do. She is funny and smart and adventurous. She’s a writer, like your dad. She was working on a novel the entire time we traveled. A fantasy epic in the vein ofGame of Thrones.I have no doubt that one day it will be just as well-known.”

“Why didn’t things work out between you?”

He faced her, that unreadable look back in his expression. “I didn’t love her. Not the way she deserved to be loved. And I knew it wasn’t fair for me to keep her on the hook, preventing her from finding someone better who would finally deserve her.”

She could only imagine how devastated Giselle must have been by their breakup. Ali had seen in their videos together how much the woman had cared about Xander.

“What about you?” he asked. “You broke up with that medical resident last year. Any regrets?”

She thought of Jamal Walker, a brilliant resident at the University of Utah Medical Center whom she had dated for two years, until they both decided by mutual consent to break things off after he received a job offer to work in his hometown of Chicago.

“Sometimes I get lonely, too,” she admitted. “I do have good friends and my grandmother, but I miss my dad so much sometimes I can’t breathe.”

They had both moved their camp chairs together, out of the direction of the smoke, and Xander reached for her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

It seemed perfectly natural for her to lean her head against his shoulder, and they stayed that way for a long time while the flames flickered and a spectacular full moon rose above the mountains.

She didn’t know if she moved first or if he did. It didn’t matter. They were looking at each other one moment, the next his mouth was on hers, his hands gripping her face. She felt the warmth of his palms against her skin, fingers threading in her hair, and every sensation was magnified by the stillness of the night around them. The cool air from the lake whispered against her back, a stark contrast to the fire now building between them.

His lips were soft yet insistent and she tasted the faint hint of the pine trees and the wild air. There was no hesitation in him, no uncertainty. It was as if all the years of friendship, the long talks, the shared experiences, had been leading to this—right here, under the star-soaked sky.

She leaned into him, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders, the strength of him grounding her in the surrealness of the moment.

After long, delicious moments, something must have jerked him back to awareness of what they were doing. He eased away, muttering a harsh word that would have gotten him in big trouble if his great-aunt had heard him.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?” Her words came out husky and low.

“I don’t want to ruin things between us. You’re too important to me.”

She tried to process that, but couldn’t seem to make her brain work right.

“I wanted you to kiss me. Does that matter?”

He gazed at her, the fire reflecting in his eyes, then he finally shook his head. “I still shouldn’t have kissed you.”

She released a long breath, feeling cold suddenly despite the puffy coat she had brought along and the heat from the fire.

“Fine. It was a mistake. We can both forget it happened. We’re here alone in the mountains with a sky full of stars. It’s undeniably romantic. Wouldn’t it have been more strange if wehadn’tkissed?”

He didn’t answer. He only rose and started putting out the fire, dousing it then using a shovel to bury dirt over any embers. Apparently, their night was over.

“I’m going to hike up to that small lake south of here in the morning to catch the sunrise. It’s pretty rugged terrain, probably too tough to take the horses. You’re welcome to come if you want.”

Maybe some distance between them wouldn’t be a bad thing, she thought. “I think I’ll try to catch a few more fish for breakfast in the morning and then read my book.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll try not to wake you up when I leave.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

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