Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“No one is my dad, and that’s a fat piece of luggage we will have to unpack later. For now, I need you to perform a magic trick.”
“Magic trick?”
“Get us the hell out of sight.”
As Vann thankfully continues looking the wrong way, Adrian wastes no time taking hold of my hand once again and swooping off with me in the other direction. The two of us disappear into the crowds of game-playing families, observers of the fireworks show, and oblivious lovebirds who are kissing or cuddling under the colorful lights.
I hear a voice call out through the crowd. “Quintin??”
Fuck, it’s him. “Go, go, go!” I urge Adrian.
A huge firework explodes overhead. Everyone shouts out and applauds, hooting and whistling at the sky. The noise and craziness provides the perfect mask for us to weave our way. I can feel Vann on my heels as we bump and shove our way through innocent bystanders, looking for somewhere to hide. I probably steamroll a small child.
Adrian makes an abrupt turn, grabs hold of my waist, and yanks me behind a purple-and-green-striped curtain of an out-of-order photo booth, plunging us into darkness.
Now we’re safe from sight.
All alone.
Also—“How’d I get on your lap?” I ask in the dark.
I feel Adrian shrug. “Guess in the excitement of getting in here, it just kinda happened. Does it matter?”
“I guess not.”
His arms are around me again. He’s holding me on his lap. In the dark. In an out-of-order photo booth. I think we’re waiting to see if Vann found us or not, staring at the curtain, hoping it doesn’t open.
“We could still be found,” I whisper, feeling anxious.
“Sure, if your friend pulled back the curtain.”
“I don’t think he saw us slip in here.”
“Hopefully not.”
My eyes are slowly adjusting to the darkness, thanks to a sliver of light spilling in from a crack in the curtain. I can see the outline of Adrian’s strong nose and square jaw, as well as a hint of light the whites of his eyes seem to catch. I appear to be very close to his face.
“You alright?” he asks me.
My heart hasn’t stopped racing. “Yeah.”
“You know, you could just have a simple conversation with the guy, explain to him we’re only friends, and—”
“Tried that,” I cut him off. “He isn’t convinced.”
“Really?”
“Thinks either you’re playing some kind of game with me, or I’m totally smitten by you and won’t admit it.”
He sits with that for a second. “Interesting.”
“Interesting? No. It’s annoying. He’s acting crazy. I’d thought he would be more open to me doing whatever I wanted, exploring my heart, discovering the island …”
“Instead you discovered the Forbidden Grotto.”
“Is that you?” I ask with an amused snort. “Are you the Forbidden Grotto?”
I feel his eyes on me. His voice softens. “Maybe.”
“Then who am I? The foolhardy explorer in spelunking gear and flippers who doesn’t know better?”
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
Every last thought I had in my brain just ran away.
Tiny flashes of light try to sneak in from the fireworks in the sky, hissing and popping noises touching our ears. His arms still hold me in place. His eyes shine in the dark, watching me, studying me, waiting for my reply.
“I … what?” I whimper.
“I want to kiss you.”
Am I paralyzed? Why can’t I move? Why can’t I say anything, or answer him, or form cohesive thoughts?
“Can I kiss you?”
And he’s asking me.
He’s asking me to kiss him.
Like a gentleman. Like some fucking prince, stepped straight off the pages of a book.
I came here for a muse, didn’t I?
“What about the whole ‘only friends’ thing …?” I at last manage to utter.
“It’s just a for-fun kiss.”
“For-fun …? Kissing is, like, the most intimate thing two people can do.”
“If you don’t want to, it’s okay. I was just feeling the moment. You and me, tucked away, on the run, our hearts racing.” I see tiny shadows where the corner of his lip pulls up. His voice is so soft, it crackles in this hot, sensitive sort of way. “Don’t you want to chase some inspiration?”
Chase some inspiration.
Is that what we’re doing?
I bring my hand up to his face at once, as if to confirm that it still exists in the dark, that Adrian hasn’t vanished, that this all wasn’t just a dream.
It does still exist. He hasn’t gone away.
This isn’t a dream.
I lean forward and catch his lips with my own.
They’re softer than I expected.
Perfect. Smooth. Pliable.
This isn’t a dream.
Fireworks that aren’t seen, but rather felt, crackling like tiny earthquakes in my chest, in my heart, in the tips of my fingers and toes, as our lips tenderly caress.
He kisses me back.
My grip on his head tightens. Then I bring my other hand to cradle his face, as if afraid it might slip away.
His arms coil around me like a protective bear, holding me against him.