Page 52 of The First Kind of Love
“Do you want to?” Aeris whispers to me, batting her big, doe eyes in silent supplication.
I know I can say no—and that nobody would hold it against me if I passed—but a part of me is…curious. I need to stop vying for control all the time. I need to stop living life so safely. What if I wake up twenty years from now and regret never pushing myself out of my comfort zone? Like,Oh, remember that time you took a trip to Cabo, Shiloh? Remember how the scariest thing you did was try a taco out of the back of some guy’s decrepit, white van?
“Is it okay with your fiancé?” I ask.
When everyone’s eyes skip to Hayes, he gives a wordless nod, and when Fulton and I share an implicit look, he doesn’t object.
I eventually acquiesce, feeding the neglected part inside of me that yearns for adventure, spontaneity—the one that’s been coaxed into the light by Fulton’s generous acts of service. Everyone is staring at us, waiting attentively, and the breath in the room is pulled taut like a drawstring. It’s so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.
“Follow my lead,” Aeris says, climbing onto her knees and using both of her hands to bring my lips to hers. Her touch is soft, forgiving; her mouth moves against mine with reverence, filled with an unbidden passion that isn’t exhibited in tasteless gropes or a domineering clash of teeth. She allows me to warm up to her, and when I angle my head to deepen thekiss, the slip of her tongue is so subtle that I almost don’t notice it.
I really hope this doesn’t awaken anything inside me.
She’s the first to pull away, though not before her front teeth tug on my bottom lip, drawing out that aphrodisiacal taste of her that would drive anyone crazy with lust. A string of saliva stretches between us, and by the time my capsized world rocks upright, the kiss is over and almost every jaw in the room is open in shock. Nobody dares to desecrate the silence. Hayes has averted his eyes out of respect, while Fulton’s staring so deep into my soul that it’s unnerving.
Then Aeris claps her hands together nonchalantly like she didn’t just take my same-sex-kiss virginity. “Alright, who’s next?”
16
FOWL PLAY
FULTON
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sofucked.
Why did I just let Shiloh do that? I mean, we’re nottogether. She can do whatever she wants. But that—I—shit. This game was a terrible idea. I can barely control myself around her as is, but to watch her kiss my friend? I’m the biggest idiot on the planet. I think I’d be better off getting run over by a car, backed over, then run overagain. Maybe dragged against the asphalt for a mile.
I think someone’s talking judging by the distorted warbling in my ears, but I’m still trapped in whatever trance Shiloh cast on me. God, she looks so beautiful right now. Buttery light blitzes through the dark, sleek strands of her hair, framing her in an ethereal glow. Those wide eyes are staring expectantly at me, and I’m so out of it that I don’t really catch on to the message she’s trying to give me.
A watery half-smile flits across her now-glossed lips—thank you, Aeris—and she cocks her head at me. “Fulton?”
“Yeah?” I mutter dazedly, love hearts probably popping out of my eyes.
“Are you going to drink or do the dare?”
Am I going to…what?
Then that warm, fluttery feeling in the bottom of my belly metamorphosizes into a yawning pit of darkness and disquietude that can’t be remedied with a drink of piss-flavored beer. A swallow chafes my dry throat, and it feels like my muscles have been bound together with goddamn barbed wire. Given my buffeting pulse, I don’t know if Shiloh’s going to serve as a very effective anti-anxiety ward this time around.
When did I spin? And when did it just so happen to land on Foul Play?
Judging by the devilish grin on Gage’s face, this might be the dare to land us in the slammer for the night. This is a quantum leap out of my comfort zone. Not just that, but a tear-a-hole-through-the-space-time-continuum kind of leap.
Maybe I’m overthinking this. Plus, my friends are used to me chickening out of most dares.
You’re so boring, Fulton. Your teammates are probably going to stop inviting you places. You’re the wet blanket of the group, the buzzkill. Why is it so hard for you to do what everyone else is doing? Why can’t you justfit in?
This is all too much pressure. And I’m sitting here like an idiot thinking to myself while my friends all wait for me to finally come to a decision.
Shiloh suddenly grabs my hand, pulls me out of my depressing trip down inferiority complex lane, and clasps our fingers together despite the profuse sweat on my skin. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” she reminds me. “It’s okay if you pass. Nobody’s going to?—”
“I want to do it,” I interrupt, breathing out the purposeless worry and breathing in what I’m hoping is a metric ton of confidence.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I am. You make me want to venture outside of mycomfort zone. Just knowing that you’re here, by my side, gives me all the safety I need to start doing that.”
Honestly, if Shiloh hadn’t kissed Aeris, then my answer would’ve been different. But seeing her so unburdened by self-doubt was a side of her that I want to see more of. She didn’t know any of this would happen tonight, yet she’s not trying to shoehorn her way into the pilot’s seat.
