Page 56 of Love, Morgan

“Until there was me,” I said, finishing her thought, and not sure how to feel about it.

My heart ached for what she’d been through. I got it. In many ways, it was a slightly different, more intense version of some of the things I’d been through. But then there had been this trip—there had been her and Thalia and this place where things changed.

And there had been me.

Our lives and our histories weren’t going to change because of this, but there was no denying that this moment in time existed. And we were here, together.

“Until there was you,” she agreed, finally turning back to look at me. “And I haven’t really known what to do with that. It was okay when you were only on a screen. It was okay enough when you were on a stage in front of me, so long as I didn’t meet you afterwards.”

“Ah,” I said, finally getting the real answer to my earlier question and wishing it had only been work that kept her away.

“Ah, indeed,” she said, a wry smile on her face. “But then you were here. Real and in person.”

I cringed. “That does rather explain the expression on your face when I first showed up.”

She laughed. “Yeah. I guess all of that now makes a lot more sense. I wasn’t handling it very well at all.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I’m not.” She shrugged. “It’s complicated, and I can’t offer you all the things I’m supposed to. Hell, we don’t even live in the same state, and I can’t leave Jackson Point. It’s the place I did it, you know? Survived and then thrived. So it doesn’t even really matter, but we’re here right now, and things feel…”

I felt everything in the air between us as she trailed off, knowing no word could ever capture how things felt between us, but knowing she was right. This wasn’t nothing. It was something. Something real and big, and something limited. We had no time at all, really. Two weeks from a whole lifetime. A couple of days where we both knew the truth.

The sensible thing would have been to walk away, to pretend we’d never had this conversation. For the first time in my life, the sensible thing didn’t feel like the right thing.

I stood on shaky legs, crossed the deck towards her, saw the shame and fear and determination in her eyes, and took her soft, precious face in my hands.

We were both as terrified as each other, both knowing this was going to hurt like hell in the end. And both knowing we couldn’t not kiss.

Chapter 17

Morgan

Until it was happening, it hadn’t occurred to me that Iona’s response to hearing about my annoyingly tragic past would be to kiss me. In truth, it probably wasn’t the past, it was more likely the honesty and the confirmation that I liked her—though how she’d been missing that was still something of a mystery to me.

What also hadn’t occurred to me before was that I’d never done this. I knew I hadn’t, of course, but I never really thought about it. I didn’t date. I had no interest in dating. I had no interest in having people in my life romantically. So I didn’t do this.

Even as a teenager, I hadn’t had the time. I’d been so busy doing what I was made to, resenting my family, and plotting my escape, that I’d never just hung out with people, never dated, never even been interested.

I couldn’t decide whether experiencing it now was so overwhelming because it was new and different, and I hadn’t been doing it when everyone else was, or because it was Iona.

As her eyes fluttered shut and she got impossibly close, I couldn’t imagine a world in which kissing her would ever not be overwhelming. I could have kissed every person I’d ever met and she would still be the best of them all.

Her breath brushed my lips and for one moment, alarm bells started ringing in my brain. I didn’t know how to do this. I’d read it, seen it, been near it, but I didn’t actually know what to do. How did one kiss? I should have found the time to do it earlier just so I’d know how to do it now. I didn’t want kissing the one and only person I’d ever wanted to kiss to go terribly because I’d somehow missed the memo that I was supposed to practice earlier.

I didn’t even care that I’d missed the memo. It had never been important to me before. But now? How was I supposed to admit that I didn’t know how to kissnow?

A tiny, wondrous sigh escaped her lips and extinguished the panic. Everyone was a beginner at some point. I was a fast learner. My whole body seemed to be responding like it knew what to do, even if I didn’t. And it was Iona. Wonderful, talented, astounding Iona. Everything was going to be okay, and I wanted to kiss her.

Her lips touched mine, soft and pliant, and my whole body exploded. I’d never wanted anything like this before. I’d never worried I was missing out on something, but I had been missing out onher.

Her soft hands cupped my face and I’d never felt so treasured in my whole life. My hands found her back, warm through her light, linen shirt. Every part of my body seemed to be working on overdrive. My mind cataloged the way her lips pressed into mine, the barest tease of her tongue, the movement of her head, and, each time, my body responded automatically. I felt the way her muscles moved lightly under my hands, felt the warm air swirling around us, and, somewhere deep in my mind, I finally understood Ripley and Alicia more than I ever had before. If the two of them together felt anywhere close to this, how could they ever have broken up and stopped wanting each other? They were always going to find their way back to one another.

Iona tipped forward slightly, backing me into the railing around the deck, and pressing her face against my cheek. “Wow,” she whispered.

“I’ll say,” I replied, feeling like a different person than I had mere moments ago.

She giggled, the sound a little shy, and kept her face hidden. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t usually be so forward, I just…”

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