Page 61 of Moonshine Kiss
I sat down in a kitchen chair and proceeded to do exactly that.
When I was done, Scarlett was real quiet. Too quiet.
“Well?” I demanded.
“I’m tryin’ to remember where I put that second blue tarp. I don’t think we can fit both bodies in one.”
“So I’m not crazy for being madder than a wet hen?”
“Your daddy steps in to interfere with your love life and the guy of your dreams decides not to fight for you? I’d be bustin’ down the wall between your houses so you can steal all of Bowie’s shit. Then drive it over to your daddy’s house and throw it on the lawn. If those two are so cozy they might as well live together!”
“I spent years thinkin’ there was something wrong with me for him not wanting me,” I confessed.
“Oh, sweetie. The only thing wrong with this situation is those two dumbasses shoving their heads up each other’s butts. I get where your daddy was coming from. He saw the way you two were lookin’ at each other, all smoldery like. He didn’t want you making him a pappy too early and ruining your life like my mama.”
“I know how birth control works,” I pointed out.
“And amen to that. But what your daddy stupidly did was out of love. Stupidity and love. So hang on to that. You can and should be mad at him for a while. But Cass, Harlan loves you. He made one mistake.”
“A big one.”
“Yeah, but one big mistake is better than 36,000 small to mid-sized ones.”
I got what she was trying to tell me. It was okay to be mad, but I shouldn’t be forgetting how lucky I was to grow up with a Harlan Tucker instead of a Jonah Bodine. “I’m still going to stay mad at him for a good long while.”
“As you should,” Scarlett said, loyally. “Now, what about Bowie? And I want best friend points for not immediately dusting off my Bowie and Cassidy’s wedding scrapbook from seventh grade.”
“Burn it,” I told her. “He made his choice. He would rather have my father’s approval than me. There’s no way I’m forgiving him for that.”
“I can’t burn it,” she argued. “It has your junior high vows that you wrote about always letting him have the top thumb in hand-holding.”
“If you don’t burn that thing, I’m coming over right now and doing it for you!”
“Okay. Okay,” she relented. “Let’s talk about the almost sex.”
“Almost sex,” I repeated. “So it wasn’t actual sex, right?” For some reason, I’d been in a panic thinking that my first sexual experience with Bowie had gone unfinished.First and last experience,I decided vehemently.
“For it to count as sex, you have to have at least fifty-one percent of the penis,” Scarlett instructed.
I heard a knock at my front door and headed in that direction. “Fifty-one percent, huh?” I opened the door to a riotous bouquet of flowers. “What the—”
“What? What’s happening?” Scarlett asked from the phone.
The flowers lowered to reveal Bowie’s face.
“I’ll call you back, Scarlett. I have to murder your brother.”
“Wait! Do you need the tarp?” she asked.
I started to shut the door in his flowery face, but Bowie stuck his foot out and cheerfully shoved his way inside.
“Now listen here, Bowie Bodine—” I started.
With careful precision, he set the vase down on the floor and turned to me. He slid his hands into my hair, thumbs resting on my jaw. Before I could yell any profanities at all, he was kissing me.
Gentle and slow like he had all the time in the world. Like he was reassuring us both that this was exactly right. I felt the thawing, like a hair dryer on sidewalk ice. Parts of me were puddling up nicely.
He applied just the right amount of pressure that had me opening my mouth like I was under a spell. When his tongue danced into mine, I let out a whimper. He kissed me long and soft, and my entire body came to life. I couldn’t quite remember why I shouldn’t be letting him do this. I was too busy scrambling to remember what underwear I was wearing and if I’d remembered to shave my legs last night.
