Page 101 of Between Love and War
I nod, even though he can’t see it. “I’m sure.”
And just like that—he kisses me.
Not like before. Not a blink-and-you-miss-it kiss that leaves me questioning reality. This one is real. Intentional. Careful. Soft.
His lips meet mine like he’s afraid to startle the moment. They’re soft, warm, and unlike anything my lips have ever come in contact with.
The kiss deepens only slightly, like a second breath. His other hand lightly brushes my waist, the fabric of my dress rustling under his fingertips. With the other hand, he holds my surely-hot cheek, his thumb tracing circles around it.
And I feel it.
Everywhere.
My fingertips tingle. My chest tightens. My ears are full of my own heartbeat, and yet I still hear everything: the way people freak out over the blackout, the rustle of wind outside, the small exhale he lets out. Everything.
When he finally pulls away, it’s only by an inch. He stays close, his forehead nearly touching mine.
And then he kisses me again. A little harder this time. A little less careful. And this time, I don’t just stand there, I kiss him back.
Tentatively at first. Like dipping my toes into a pool I’m not sure is warm. But then, my hands go to the back of his neck,fingers threading through his hair like I’ve done this a hundred times in dreams I can’t remember.
I tug him closer—instinctively—only to realize that pulling a 6’4” man down to my level is a logistical challenge I did not plan for.
He lets out a low, surprised laugh against my mouth, but he doesn’t pull away.
When we finally pull away, breathless, he stays close.
I’m pretty sure someone saw. Maybe everyone. But the power’s still out, and the world is too distracted to care.
Everything around us is in the dark.
But me?
I’m glowing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Michael
Idon’t know how long I stand there after kissing her. Everything else is noise. Distant chatter, a flicker of light from someone’s phone, the shuffle of chairs being dragged closer together. None of it touches me. Not the blackout, not the weird prom party aftermath, not even the way someone’s calling me.
There’s just her.
Kate Cruz, preschool teacher, walking rom-com daydreamer, awesome baker, with her flushed cheeks and kiss-bitten lips and the faintest smile like she’s trying to hold the whole universe in her mouth.
I feel like I swallowed the sun.
“You gonna stand there all night or are you joining us, loverboy?” Bon’s voice cuts through the haze like a slap. She’s waving a flashlight in my direction.
I blink. Kate’s already drifted toward the others, her face politely neutral—except for the fact that she absolutely does not look at me. At all.
I clear my throat, trying to walk like my knees aren’t weak. “What’s happening?”
“Power’s still out, but it’s not the end of the world,” Bon says, gathering everyone out in the garden. “We’re improvising.”
“We’re playing games, she means,” Ryan says, and I look at him with confusion, so he adds, “Just go with it. She will not stop.”
“Like Monopoly?” I ask.
