Nicole Young - Kiss Me If You Dare

He swallowed hard and conquered his voice. “Before all this, you were going to be my wife. We were going to move to Rawlings, have kids, keep the lodge as a summer home, and eventually try living up here. None of that is even a possibility anymore. Would you really give up the hope of a normal life just to be with me?”

I thought hard before I answered. “No. I won’t give up the hope of a normal life to be with you.”

His face clouded over.

I squeezed his hand. “I gave up the hope of a normal life awhile ago when I realized normal and Tish Amble don’t belong in the same sentence. Life’s always going to be a struggle. But I’m making progress. And maybe out of all the chaos I’ve survived, I even have something to offer you-the hope of a happy life without being normal.” I intertwined his fingers with mine. “We can just be ourselves, the people God made us, broken bodies, broken spirits, and all. And maybe we can even help others struggling with the same junk figure out how to be happy too.”

“So,” he choked on his words, “you’ll still marry me?” I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. I couldn’t lie to him. Not when he’d already come so far.

“No. I won’t marry you.” The words came out a whisper. He turned his head, withdrawing from me. “Why not?” Only a whisper.

“Because it’s what I wanted to do when I was trying to be normal. You know, get married, buy a house, have kids, the whole American formula for happiness.” I leaned my head into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of zesty guy soap. “But I want more. I want to marry you because it’s my heart’s desire, not because it’s the thing to do.” I pulled back and looked at his strong profile. “And I just think that where we’re at, with the separation we’ve been through, with the obstacles we both have to overcome, that now isn’t the time to be talking marriage.”

He looked at me, his old quirky smile on his face. “Then come back tomorrow. We’ll talk marriage then.” I broke into a grin. “You’re an incurable romantic.” On a whim, I climbed onto his lap, snuggling his body to mine. “Am I hurting you?”

He closed his eyes. “Can’t feel a thing.”

I pressed my lips to his ear, swooning in the jolt of electricity from that simple act.

“Listen,” I whispered. “I’m going back to Del Gloria. I’m finishing my degree. I won’t be home until summer.”

There was no answer for some time. I let my lips trail along Brad’s neck as I waited.

Finally he spoke. “You were in here when Denton visited. You must have heard everything.”

I nodded against his cheek. “I did.”

“I’m not proud how I handled it. I love him so much, but I still hold so much against him.”

“I want you to know I stand by you, whatever you decide with him. I sent the professor a letter thanking him for his support, but I won’t be staying with him when I go back out there. It wouldn’t be loyal to you if I did.

He said some really hurtful things to you. And as close as I felt to him for several months, his money and his esteem mean nothing to me compared to you.”

Brad turned his face to mine. “Thank you.”

Our lips were impossibly close. There was no resisting the magnetic attraction. Our mouths touched, timidly at first, but becoming braver with each heated moment. He tasted as delicious as I remembered. I showered his face and neck with kisses.

I took a deep breath. “I love you, Brad.” I wanted him to know it before I left.

“Then come back tomorrow. We’ll plan our marriage.” I leaned my forehead against his. “I’m not coming back until summer.” I rubbed my fingers through his hair. “But don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

He caught my eyes with his. “You’re always leaving me. Do you realize you’ve left me three times in just over a year?”

I giggled and shrugged. “Just a personality quirk, I guess.” I became serious. “Really, Brad. I don’t want to leave you. But I have to do this or live with more regrets.”

“I know, Tish. I have plenty to keep me busy while you’re gone. I’d like to walk my wife down the aisle after our wedding, if it’s okay with you.”

A rush of love washed through me. “I’m going to hold you to that. No more talk of marriage until you’re back on your feet.”

“Then you’ll marry me?”

I swatted him. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice tickling my ear. “When it comes to you, I just won’t give up.”

“I’m flattered. Now if we can just get you to say that about yourself.”

He nuzzled me with his mouth. “I won’t give up on myself. How’s that?”

His lips tickled and I laughed. “That’ll do.”

I stayed all day and late into the night, hating to leave him, wanting to take back my promise to Koby that I’d be on the plane to Del Gloria, and instead stay and get married and wake up in Brad’s bed come morning.

But instead of staying, I left him. Again. I drove my rental car to Sawyer International and got on the flight back to California. And by late afternoon, I was there, taking the bus to Portia’s apartment complex, the place I’d call home for the rest of my college career.

She hugged me when I walked in the door, a clingy embrace that said everything without words. By the time I stepped back, we both had tears running down our faces.

“Look at you. You’re all bandaged up.” I held her armdistance away. White pads were taped to the side of her face and head.

“Just had surgery a few days ago,” she said. “But the prognosis is good. Professor Braddock paid for the best plastic surgeon Hollywood has to offer. There won’t be any scarring.”

“You’re so beautiful,” I said. “I’m glad you’ll be okay.” She gave a shy smile, a charming look for the once-hardened woman. “The doc was pretty torn up when he found out his housekeeper was the guilty party. Can you imagine finding out you’ve been harboring a former terrorist?”

I turned a shoulder to her, staring at white linoleum. “What about Celia?”

“She’s in the burn unit in Sacramento,” Portia said. “At first, they only gave her a few days to live. But that girl is invincible. They expect she’ll be fully recovered by summer.”

“Thank the Lord,” I whispered. “Now, let’s get that Covenant Award. Celia deserves it.”

With winter break over, classes began. I filled my days with homework and houses as the team forged ahead, working long hours to meet project deadlines.

As we repaired, prepped, and painted, I shared the details of my trip to Churchill Falls.

“I knew Simon Scroll was a scum bucket,” Dagger said, his gang clothing covered with paint. “You could tell by looking at him he was up to no good.”

I arched an eyebrow his way. “Careful. Turns out you’re right about Simon, but I’ve been wrong about people over and over when I try to sum them up in one glance.”

Dagger hiked up his dropped waist. “Even without him we can finish in time. Some of my people said they’d help out.”

“If they’re anything like you, your people are the best.” I smiled his way.

Koby edged the woodwork with white paint. “So this guy Brad. He’s pretty messed up now, huh?”

I looked at Koby, with his two artificial legs. At Portia, with only one hand. At Maize, with her nervous energy. Dagger, with his persecution complex. Timid Gwen, with her obsessive perfection disorder. And of course, me with my hang-ups and letdowns.

A shake of my head. “Nope. He’s not messed up. He’s got a few challenges ahead,” I shrugged, “but he’s pretty much just like the rest of us.”

Koby seemed disappointed at my answer. “So you plan on getting back together with him?”