Page 71 of Between Love and War
“But this?” I say, holding up my fork like I’m presenting evidence. “This feels like something I’d get even if I wasn’t… me. Even if I were just some guy in town who got attacked by your cat.
She looks at me for a beat. “Youaresome guy in town who got attacked by my cat.”
I chuckle and watch her as she dips her fork back into the cookie cake. Her fingers are smudged with chocolate, her curls slightly messy from lounging around. She’s wearing pajamas and a white tank top. She takes her glasses out and puts them on the top of her head. And for some reason, everything she’s doing tonight makes my chest feel weird.
Because tonight, in the glow of the TV, and the way she has chocolate in the corner of her mouth, she’s… beautiful.
She glances at me from under her lashes. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
I tilt my head. “Where else would I be?”
She shrugs, playing with a crumb. “I don’t know. Fancy dinner. Rooftop party. Girls in red dresses and your name in gold balloons.”
“That was last year,” I say. “And the year before. And the year before that.”
Kate pauses. “And this year?”
I look at her. To be honest, I dreaded my birthday this year. Maybe that’s why I forgot. Funny what this small village does to me. I thought I’d spend my birthday alone and asleep in my room, but now I brought home cakes to share with everyone, and I’m on the couch with a beautiful girl who used to annoy me.
My past birthdays had velvet ropes and bottle service. A few clubs even closed early just so I could walk in like a movie star. I had a dozen people around me at any given time. But even then… after the noise died down, after the last drink, I always felt like I forgot something. Like I was supposed to be somewhere else.
Weirdly, now, I’m somehow in a bad place in my career, but I’mhappy.
“This year, I’m actually where I want to be,” I say. “And that’s all thanks to you.”
Kate shakes her head. “You give me way too much credit.”
I chuckle. “No, I don’t give you enough,” I say. When she looks up at me with a confused expression, I add, “When I first got the news that I had to do this during my temporary suspension, I was devastated. Mortified. Who wants to stay in a sleepy small town, working with children who scream when they lose a crayon? Not a star athlete who’s full of himself.”
Kate laughs. “Let the records show that you are, in fact, still full of yourself.” She gestures to the cake with my face on it.
I let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, but now I don’t dread it. I actually like this place. The people. The early mornings. And the school.”
“That’s because of the children,” Kate says as she eats another bite of the cookie.
“No,” I say. “That’s because of you.”
She freezes.
I watch as she sets her fork down carefully. Her lips part, like she’s about to say something. But she doesn’t. Instead, she grabs the milk carton and pours herself another splash. “Well,” she says lightly, “clearly, the cookie cake is making you sentimental.”
She sips, avoiding my gaze, then wipes her mouth with a napkin. Something about the small gesture—mundane,unthinking—pulls me in. My eyes drift to her lips. The way they move, the shape of them, the soft curve. I hadn’t really allowed myself to notice before.
But now I do.
And before I can stop myself, I lean in slightly. Not enough to invade her space. Just enough to let her know I’m looking. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I’m not even going to kiss her.
I can’t.
She’s never had a boyfriend. She’s careful with herself, guarded in this way that feels sacred. I’m not going to be the one who crosses that line on a sugar high and a whisper of honesty. I’m not going to blur this moment just because her lips are plump.
But thenshemoves.
Suddenly, impulsively.
She leans forward—just a little—and presses her lips to mine. I don’t even have time to respond because it’s quick. Light. One second, maybe two. A blink in the grand scheme of things.
And then she pulls back like she touched something hot.
