It's a Love Story

by Annabel Monaghan

I need to get back on task, and that’s going to be a lot easier when I’m not standing here watching him bite his bottom lip the way he is right now.

“You want me as backup?” “Yeah, I couldn’t have taken those kids today without you.” He smiles again. “Aren’t we trying to be a team?” “Yes,” I say again.

I don’t like the way Dan seems like he’s on defense against the people he loves most.

When I laugh, he leans in, not away. When he leans back in his chair, he places a hand on the back of mine. I try on the feeling, just for a second, of what it would be like to belong to him.

There’s a difference between someone loving you and agreeing with every single thing you do.”

“Today, when you were playing the keyboards, I was watching you. It was like playing that song kind of hurt. I was waiting for you to smile, but you never did. Not once.”

“So I go on dates, I wear the right thing. I blow my hair straight and try to act datable.” Dan laughs, and it fills the room. He turns all the way on his side, his arm outside the covers and his bicep catching the light. “What does ‘datable’ mean? Of course you’re datable.”

But you should leave your hair curly. It’s soft around your face. I like it.” “Oh,” I say and press my lips together.

“You sound just like Hailey Soul.” “No.” “You do. You’ve got me all worked up over here.” I cannot overstate how much I like the fact that he’s all worked up.

“I’m currently trying to hide how bad I am at tracking down celebrities.” And how much I wish you’d climb into this bed with me so I can smell you up close, I don’t say.

He turns his head toward me. “Maybe it was you I was lusting after all that time.” “I doubt that very much,” I say and roll onto my back so he can’t see me smile.

Jane, want to go out today?” “You mean with Danny,” Cormack says, and it’s definitely not a question. “Well, yeah, if he wants to,” says Brian. The look in his eyes is playful. The look in Dan’s is not. “I mean, I think he’s on record saying you’re not his girlfriend, Jane.” “Don’t,” says Dan.

Brian catches me staring at him and smiles. I have the feeling he’s misinterpreted something.

“Janey Jakes all grown up. On my boat,” Brian says into the wind. “It’s all of our boat,” Dan says.

“But I don’t know, Janey. Dan keeps claiming you’re not dating. Sounds like you’re fair game.” He’s kidding and he’s not kidding.

“That’s Queens Park Bluff,” Brian shouts over the wind. “It’s beautiful,” I say. “I’ll take you later if you want,” says Brian. “Okay, stop it,” says Dan. “Oh?”

His eyes are asking me a question. I don’t know what it is, but I want to say yes.

The din of the wake we’re leaving behind fills my ears, the ice-cold spray of the ocean mists my face, but all I can feel is the warmth of Dan’s hand just behind my hip.

“Call me if you get bored later, Jane.” He gives me a teasing look through the open car window. He is equally as handsome as Dan—the chiseled features and full lips—but I’m not attracted to Brian like I am to Dan. The pull is specific to him, the way he moves in the world.

“What am I going to hate? Or am I not the she?” I ask. He looks up at me and holds my gaze for a second. “You’re the she.” It’s not a proper sentence. It’s practically gibberish. But it hits me right in the center of my heart.

I look up at Dan with tears in my eyes, and he pulls me into his arms. Right there in the alley by the dumpster. His chest is as solid as it looks but also warm as he wraps himself around me.

My gaze moves across his mouth before I can stop it, and I tuck my head back down against him. “I’m just sure. I know how something feels when it matters. Like Star Crossed wasn’t it. I knew.” “I was so pissed,” I say and look up at him again. “I mean, clearly. But you were right.”

He smiles and says, “I know what I know.” He lowers his forehead onto mine, and for a second, I know what it would feel like to have a guy like Dan feel sure about me. In that same second, I want desperately to know what it would feel like to be kissed by him.

I open my eyes and Dan’s watching me, and it occurs to me that I don’t know what time it is. It occurs to me that Dan doesn’t care what time it is; he just knows what he knows.

“Want to hear something crazy?” I ask. “Everything you say is a little crazy, Jane. Doesn’t bother me a bit anymore.”

That delicious hug in the alley has broken the seal between us. We’re allowed to touch now, and at every point of contact, my skin tingles like it’s waking up.

His eyes smile and mine dip to his mouth. He notices and leans in a breath closer. “It’s your turn,” he says. “What?” I think I’m holding my breath.

“A kiss is like that. I mean, if it takes. Sometimes a kiss doesn’t go anywhere. But sometimes it starts and makes decisions all on its own.” He’s looking at my mouth as he says it, and I wonder if he’s imagining the same kiss I am.

“That movie came out when I was twelve, and I remember thinking, wow, I hope that’s what kissing is.” I turn toward him and his eyes are heavy on mine. “And has it been?” “Nope,” I say. My heart is daring him to lean in, just a bit, and show me that kiss.

His fingers on mine, like they belong there, and the way he’s inviting me to create something with him, it’s all too much.

I cannot compete with a girl named Brooke. No one can. I’ve known plenty of Brookes, and they’re all worse than Jennifer.

It’s at a party at the beach where their eyes find each other over and over again. I feel that newly familiar shift in my heart just thinking about it.

There are lots of backslaps and fist bumps, and I am aware that Dan is very aware of me. He introduces me as his “friend Jane from LA” and never once turns his back on me.

“I’m glad you came.” There’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes me think an impossible thing: I am interesting and true and beautiful.

I grab a lobster claw and busy myself with it because I feel like I’ve talked too much. I do not like seeing a person diminished. And if that person is Dan, with artistic integrity for days, it turns out I absolutely hate it. Dan’s leg presses harder against mine as the conversation continues around the table.

Her eyes are on Dan and, oddly, so is my hand. My hand has moved to his shoulder.

“No, because you’re cool.” Words I have literally never heard before.

This is as close as I’ve ever come to initiating a kiss in my life. I am acutely aware that this is all on me. I leaned in. I did the whispering. I am the one who turned her head so there’s just the butterfly touch of his lips on mine. If he kisses me, this kiss will take.

I think I might be ravenous for the taste of him. His breath is on my lips and I brush mine against his and liquid heat floods my body. It’s barely a kiss, but his eyes go dark, like he felt it too.

I lean in and kiss him for real, tasting him for the first time, all salt and sunshine, and a current runs through my core with such force that I grip his thigh to ground myself.

His hands are in my hair to pull me closer, and I pour myself into him. Dan parts his lips, and I see colors behind my eyelids, a sherbet sunset, ...

We’re both breathing hard, inches apart, staring into each other’s eyes as he takes his hands from my hair.

He offers me a hand, helps me up, and then releases it too quickly.

I am vulnerable, open and wanting in a way that is not safe. I feel a shifting of the earth beneath me. The words bubble up inside of me: Kiss me again, a million times. And this terrifies me. I want something too much, so much that it will burn in the fire of my want. I need to snuff it out.

The feeling of my mouth on his and the smell of the salt air on his skin return to me in force. I went way out of my comfort zone tonight, but I don’t think anyone in the world would regret a kiss like that.

I want to go back in time and have him be the one who kissed me. And not because Brooke and her perfect hair were there, but because I want to know that I’m a person he was dying to kiss.

Without thinking, I reach out to Katie, and she strains her little body in my direction.

I look up at Dan and he’s watching me over his coffee. His brow is heavy, and there’s so much in his eyes that I have to look back down. Last night’s kiss is still right there on his lips. “You okay?” Dan asks me. “Of course,” I say, embarrassed.

I am low-key annoyed with him right now for how much I like him. “You should go,” I say and meet his eye. “Come with me and we can grab lunch after?”

Fear is prickling in my heart; it was not safe to get this close to a man this good. Obviously. And kissing me back with those butter lips was just reckless on his part.