Page 598 of One More Kiss

Chapter5

Asher

Kristee thinks she’s overwhelmed. I’m the one that’s overwhelmed.

She told me earlier that she wanted to end her life tonight. And now she’s telling me that I make her feel alive.

I wanted nothing more than to spend time with her and make her see that she mattered. The fact that she’s saying this to me right now…

“Kristee…” Words escape me. My lips cover hers and everything I want to say, but don’t know how to, is poured into the kiss.

The street around us disappears. All that exists is Kristee and I. Her lips move underneath mine as her hands tighten on my forearms, her nails digging into the skin, threatening to break it.

Her skin is soft and warm beneath my palms. She stands on her tiptoes so she can pull me into her body and angle her head, allowing me to deepen the kiss. Her tongues slides over mine as her hips are cradled against mine. The whistles and catcalls around us finally penetrate my brain. “Damn man! Get it!” Clarity pours over me like ice water and I freeze with my lips hovering above Kristee’s. She murmurs a protest, unaware of the audience and the show we’re putting on. Dropping my hands from her face to grip her hips as my lips glide over her cheek, I gutturally groan into her ear, “We’re creating quite a show. Not that I care, but you might.”

She freezes in my arms before saying, “Oh my God. I’ve never made out in the middle of the street and been hollered at before.” I can hear the bemusement in her voice. Pulling back slightly, I meet her eyes. Embarrassment is visible within them, and her cheeks are rosy with a blush, but she’s also smiling. She shrugs. “Tonight is just becoming one first after another.”

I love that she’s experiencing so many firsts with me.

I want to experience so many more.

Taking her hand, I shake my head. “I’m glad for that. What do you want to do next, Kristee?”

Her head angles as she regards me. She seems to really be thinking about her answer. Finally, she nods. Just once. “I don’t really care. I–– I think I want to go dancing. But be forewarned, I’ve never been, and I cannot dance. I may trip you or fall on my face.”

Grinning, I lift her into my arms, spinning us both. Her hands grip my shoulders tightly as she squeals from surprise, “Asher!” As I set her back onto her feet, I steal another quick kiss. I’ve never been this affectionate with anyone before. But with her, I can’t stop myself from kissing her at every opportunity that presents itself.

She looks up at me as her forehead crinkles again. “Why do you keep doing that? You keep kissing me and saying my name. It’s just so… different. You seem too good to be true, Asher. A man that looks like you shouldn’t want to spend time with a woman like me. I’m so…” She gestures to herself. “Plain and boring. There is nothing interesting about me and you… you’re exquisite.” Her face flushes again though her words shock me to my core. “You’re gorgeous and rich, Asher. You drive a classic car and play the guitar. You can also sing. You’re amazing. You’re literally fucking amazing and I’m just… a wallflower.”

Is she serious?

Of course, she is. She told you about herself. Her life. How people have treated her because of her mental issues.

It’s bullshit. Total and complete bullshit.

The world, the whole goddamned world, has failed Kristee.

She has no idea how beautiful she is. No idea how special. She’s remarkable.

She’s damn near perfect… to me.

Glancing around quickly, I see several people still looking at us. That’s not unusual. My tattoos and piercings typically get me noticed. People always do one of two things: they complement my ink, or they avoid me like the plague.

I tend to prefer the latter. I see Kristee and I’s reflection in the spotless glass of a closed storefront. We make a very attractive couple. I’m tall. I know my face is attractive. That’s one thing I’ve never had an issue with. Most women notice the eyes, the chiseled face, the piercings, and the tattoos, and they instantly think “bad boy.” They all want a taste. A ride. But none of them actually give a shit about me.

And then, there’s Kristee. Effortlessly beautiful. Her skin, eyes, hair, and the lush curves of her body… all together she’s exquisite and she can’t see it. She’s convinced herself that she’s invisible. But the truth is she’s anything but.

A wallflower?

I do not think so.

Kristee

Asher and I are making a spectacle of ourselves. Normally, I’d freak out at the thought. I yearn for people to look at me, to see me most days, but at the same time the idea is utterly terrifying.

If they look at me, they’ll see a girl who battles with herself. Ashamed and embarrassed about her mental illness. A girl who hides in the shadows because the idea of stepping out into the light to show myself, to expose my secrets, terrifies me.

With Asher, I feel free. I’m not embarrassed. I’m not ashamed. He seems to accept me. He is willing to not only accept my issues but embrace them. He wants to help me through them and be there for me when no one else has.

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