Page 63 of We Fell Apart
And then suddenly, without deciding, I am standing tiptoe, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. His mouth is warm, and for a hot second I think, what on earth have I just done? He doesn’t want to kiss me, this is going to be so awkward, how did I even get here, pressed up against him?
But then Tatum kisses me back, and the salt-air smell of his hair is around me, and I stop thinking. I just am.
I have known I wanted this,
this whole time,
but also without knowing it.
I didn’t want to want him,
because he infuriates me,
with his damaged-boy vibe and his all-boy crew and
his secretive nature and
at the same time, underneath all that,
his integrity.
Integrity, because Tatum cares.
He makes sure there’s food on the table,
makes people smoothies,
takes care of the things it seems like June used to do but no longer does.
He takes the dog to the vet and lets her ride in the front seat and pays the bill himself when no one else will.
This isn’t like other first kisses I’ve had. Those were tentative and slow. Instead, we are kissing wildly, with all the built-up anger and fascination and admiration between us pulsating in our mouths as they press against one another.
Tatum puts a hand on my face and the other in the tangle of my hair, and I am lost in the wonder of this unusual boy, and the fact that he is here, with his lips on mine.
But after a short while he puts his hands on my shoulders and pulls away. “Matilda, wait.”
“What?”
“This is a bad idea.”
“Why?”
“It’s just—Kingsley. And Meer.”
“Meer won’t mind.”
“I just can’t. You shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to.” He walks to the other side of the kitchen. “I don’t want to,” he says, louder.
“You seemed like you wanted to, just now.”
“But I can’t. I don’t.”
“Fine, then.” My face is hot with embarrassment. I’m so confused. “I don’t want to, either,” I say, cruelly. “I was just bored.”
—
I head acrossthe property toward the pool house with my mind racing.
