Page 145 of Chasing Headlines
“I’m sorry, I should've acted sooner.”
“You stopped him.” Her fingers tightened around mine. “That’s all that matters.”
Airy relief filled my chest. It wasn't all that mattered, but, she accepted me, what’d I’d done, as enough.
I helped her to her feet. Her soft, small hand fit against my palm as I walked beside her. The night air buzzed around us, crisp and thin and clean—sweeping the haziness from my injured brain.
Liv stopped and turned her face up toward the sky, as if she could somehow bask in moonlight. She turned to me, eyes practically glowing. I caught my breath as she moved closer. She wrapped her arms around my ribcage and settled against mychest. “I promised you a hug.” She spoke to my shirt. Her warm breath filtered through layers of fabric to brush against my skin.
“You're supposed to hug me back.”
I tried to find the right space to put my hands. I ended up with one behind her head, one on her low back. The feel of her hair, slipping against my fingertips. Whisper soft threads shining in the moonlight. Her curves fit against me in all therightways. My breath slowed as I held her. Waited. Crickets chirped in the distance.
She pulled away. “I should go.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Don’t think I’m up for any more abuse today. Pretty sure you’re not either.”
“We have ended up in someveryodd situations lately.”
“Your fault.”
“What? How do you figure that?”
“Pretty sure you're the one that got us locked in the closet.”
She glared. “You're the one who headbutted a mechanical bull.”
“I was defending myself, it swung first.”
She snickered. “It probably took the worst of it.” Her eyes glimmered and she touched the bandage on my head. “You're supposed to be resting.”
Is what I think she said, but my brain wandered off, found someplace lower to hang out with space to dream of resting. With her, naked.
“Breslin? Hey.” She snapped fingers. I blinked and met her gaze.
“Hm. Sorry, guess I'm bitter over finding my fake girlfriend kissing someone else.”
She blanched. Her mouth opened and closed. It wasn’t the red-faced, sputtering reaction that was so amusing. This was different. She wiped at her mouth and shuddered.
I winced. “Too soon?”
“It was awful.”
“You didn’t seem to hate kissing me nearly as much.”
She gasped. “When did you? Oh, the ER.” She rolled her eyes. “Right, I forgot, it's always about you.”
“Was just trying to, I dunno, make it a little less awful?”
“By comparing the old guy to kissingyou? How does that help? Might as well compare it to kissing a frog. Maybe a toad . . .” She toyed with her chin.
That smart mouth of hers.“Glad you’re feeling better.”
“Better? Reliving nightmares I’ve been?—”
“Nightmares. Really.” I leaned down, and into her personal space. “Youkissedme.” I planted my hands against her car door.
“Ok, ok, 'nightmares' is a bit much, sorry. You just have this special ability to irritate me.”