AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A place lost in time.
Kyson kills the engine and exits the car wordlessly. I’m still all sticky, but my clothes have mostly dried. I’d like to get home and change, but I suspect he brought me here for a reason. I grab his jacket and push my arms through the sleeves, being wrapped in the scent of him once more with a tinge of smoke. He doesn’t stop to wait for me and disappears through a loud clanking black metal gate. The sky grows dark, the sun completely disappeared, and there aren’t any lights on the pathway. I catch myself on some rocks and nearly take Kyson down with me when I plunge forward. I hold his shoulders for support.
“Careful,” he grits in a low growl and takes one of my hands, knitting our fingers together. The warmth emitting from him causes me to shiver. “This way.”
“What are we doing here?” I look around, observing the angel statues, crosses, and headstones that I can make out now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness that has enveloped us both.
“You’re not alone. I lost my dad, too. He’s buried here.” I think I remember my dad saying something about it as a justification for the way Kyson acted out so much. He was murdered in a random robbery at a convenience store. Tried to play the hero, and it cost him his life.
I start to say I’m sorry and want to slap myself. I hate it when I hear it. It’s a stupid cliché phrase that means nothing. People say it to be nice because they are unsure of what else there is to say to express their sympathies, I guess. Now I get why people said it to me, but I still hate it all the same. “When did he…?”
“I was five. I can’t remember him. It’s whatever.”
It isn’t, but I think we both get that. The last thing Kyson needs from me is pity.
“I bet you look like him. Is he where you get those dimples and gorgeous baby blues?” He turns to look at me, and I feel my cheeks growing all hot and red again.
“You think I’m gorgeous?” There’s a dangerous edge to his voice.
“I think we should go home so I can get out of these clothes.”
“Now there’s a pretty picture.” He steps closer, and once again I can’t breathe.
I’m trapped, hypnotized by this electric pull, drawing me closer and closer to him. To Kyson. A bad boy I should hate. The last person I should crave comfort from. Yet I do.
I don’t know if I can handle him kissing me again. Shame washes through me at thoughts of Matt. I tried to end things before I left, but he said no way were we breaking up. I don’t know why I told Kyson we broke up. I guess technically it’s not a lie. We did break up briefly.
I know I owe him better than this. However, that doesn’t stop me from following my stupid heart. My hand glides to Kyson’s cheek and slides along the stubble of his facial hair.
He needs to shave.
Neither of us speak for a beat. I feel out of my mind. Impulsive. Out of control and wild.
All those emotions that pulsed through my veins at the arcade return tenfold.
His gaze holds mine in the pale moonlight that peeks between the tree branches hanging overhead of us.
“I’m going to kiss you again.” His breath fans over my lips.
My only response is the slight tilt of my head inviting him in, knowing I’m being stupid and unable to stop. Lips brushing over mine, this time he comes in soft, slow, and sweet. The world around us disappears. All that exists is the steady beating of our hearts and the grip he has on my hip. Tongue sweeping along mine, Kyson shows me that he can be gentle and not only take. This side of him is dangerous. It’s all too easy to be swept up in the heat of his attention. I lean further into him, bracing a palm to his chest, craving things I shouldn’t. Like more of his touch. His thumb slides under the hem of my shirt, brushing the pad along the edge of my skirt.
“Tell me to stop, Dahlia.”
The word hangs on the tip of my tongue, but his breath hits my lips, and I can’t bring myself to say goodbye to this version of him. Because once I say the word, I am aware he’ll go back to being a jerk. And this moment will die and haunt me forever.
Much like our first kiss. It happened the last time we came for a visit. He kissed me and I thought it meant he wanted to be my boyfriend, but to him, all it was, was a cruel prank.
And now here I am repeating history.
Me clutched in the arms of the boy I’ve vowed to hate.
His lips pressed to mine in the sweetest kiss.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth without warning.
All coherent thought leaves my body along with my breath as I return his kiss.
I cling to him, desperate for this version of him to last a little longer.
