Page 66 of My Brother's Best Men
Something in the tone of his voice as he says it now is different. It feels like heissaying it the way I’ve always wanted to hear it, but that can’t be.
It has to be the alcohol or melancholy, or…something.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Elijah,” I say, still cognizant of his hand on my wrist, of the inches closing between us.
“But I do,” he says, his dark eyes imploring mine.
I look into his eyes, seeing the glimmer of truth there.
“Kiss me,” he says solidly.
I shake my head because clearly he’s lost his mind. “Elijah…”
“I know the first time was an accident. You didn’t mean it, but I did.” He licks his lips, his thumb brushing over the vein in my wrist. “So kiss me if you don’t believe me. Kiss me right now, and if you feel nothing, I’ll leave you alone and we’ll never speak of this again. You can go back to your life after this, and I’ll go back to mine and…”
I hear his plea like an angel hears a prayer. The desperation, the need, the longing in his voice is so evident it makes my heart ache.
And maybe that’s what makes me stop and question the validity of his statement.
The band drones on in the background, singingkiss melike some desperate chant.
“Promise?” I ask as I lean into his space.
“Promise,” he whispers against my lips. I lick them, realizing the taste of Matthew has dissolved like sugar on my tongue.
I should not kiss Elijah. The first time was bad enough, not to mention I’m racking up points on my kiss card and we’re damn near full.
But the aching desire inside of me needs to know the truth. Last time, I was drunk. Tonight, I’m not. Two glasses of wine over the course of a few hours isn’t enough to impair me enough to do something I wouldn’t do.
Especially when it comes to this.
To the man who stole my heart so many years ago…
The first man who stole my heart.
So I do what I know I shouldn’t. I kiss Elijah Brecker, if only to prove a point. To him, to myself, to the moon in the sky. I kiss him softly, afraid to feel the truth.
But Elijah doesn’t leave me in the dark. His mouth moves slowly against mine. He kisses me delicately, carefully. Lovingly.
He pulls me closer, settling his hands on my neck, his fingers gliding through my hair. I’m still damp from the water and I have half a mind to push off of him because I don’t want to get him wet. But I don’t push him away. My hands settle around his neck and I pull him closer. I need more of this. More of him.
And like the mind reader he is, he opens my mouth, inviting my tongue against his. He kisses me like I imagine every woman wants to be kissed.
Reverently.
My heart beats faster as he deepens the kiss, and it’s so different than before, but also…
I feel that same warmth. That same burgeoning flame.
I feel everything he can’t say. Every bit of his sorrow, his pain.
His love.
My eyes water as I tremble in his grasp because all those familiar feelings—the good and bad—come rising to the surface. I grip his collar tight as I melt into his kiss, and then I break away.
His eyes are wistful. Hopeful.
And then I seehim.
