Page 113 of Your Last First Kiss
Confirm that Miller can still watch the girls tomorrow so I can go in to work.
They pull me from the conversations happening around me until all I hear is one cruel voice telling me I’ll never measure up, that I’ll never get anything right.
“Dance with me,” Dillon whispers into my neck. I hadn’t even noticed him approach. “You’re lost in lists again. Dance with me.”
My eyes dart around the room, trying to gauge who’s watching us or if it matters. “Dillon, I…”
“It’s just a dance, Penny, not a public claiming.” He says it nonchalantly, but I hear the hint of pain he’s trying to bury deep down.
Guilt, my lonely friend, consumes me. In my quest to do this the right way, I only focused on how that looked for me and the boys.
How could I have been so selfish?
I never once acknowledged what holding him at arm’s length would do to him.
My insides churn like I’m on some awful amusement park ride that spins and spins but never goes anywhere.
Decision made. I have to give him what he’s given me so freely—all of me.
“Maybe it’s time for a claiming,” I finally say before nerves can talk me out of it.
I love how his eyes darken, and that rumble in his chest vibrates through my body.
“Be very careful what you ask for, Penny, because if it’s in my power, I’ll move heaven and Earth to give it to you.”
“I—I know you will. I trust you, Dillon.”
He steps forward until our bodies are almost flush, and the background noise falls away. It’s just him and me in this moment.
His tone changes to the one I dream about late at night, and my panties dampen at his demand. “Tell me what you want.”
One of his large hands lands on my hip, and I fight to focus. “I want to be yours. For real.”
Dillon’s other hand cups my face. “It’s always been real for me. It’s been real since the first time I met you.” Then his lips are on mine.
He has more control than I do because I’m trying to climb him like a tree, but he’s holding me stationary. And while there’s nothing chaste about this kiss, it is tamed down, presumably for the audience we’re sure to find when we lift our heads.
Always protecting.
I shiver beneath his touch. Maybe it’s always been real for me too.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, wrapped in each other, but all too soon, he pulls back so we’re nose to nose.
“Hi,” he whispers as the sounds of the room slowly start to worm their way into my consciousness.
“Hi,” I whisper back.
“Dance with me?” he asks, and I’m done fighting him. How can I when he spends all his time fighting for me?
I nod, and he takes me by the hand. He leads me through a crowd of smiling faces, and I’m surprised to see they all seem genuinely happy—for me.
I lose track of Eddy though, and my steps falter.
“What’s wrong?” Dillon asks low in my ear.
“I lost track of Eddy. I need to keep an eye on him so I know he isn’t trying to get to the kids.” Fear makes my words tumble out at an alarming rate.
“He’s at a table along the wall. Farthest away from the front door. If he leaves, I’ll know it.”
