A. Arthur - Part of Me

Lidia

Three months ago

He kissed me.

Brayden Sanchez kissed me, Lidia Morales.

No, to be fair, it wasn’t just a kiss, it was like he was making love to my mouth. If that’s at all possible. I’m almost positive it is, because that’s exactly how I felt when it was happening.

We’d been studying for finals at the end of the spring semester of our junior year. Brayden was smart and the best fighter I knew, but he didn’t like sitting in class and hated the idea of written tests to gauge what someone did or didn’t know. Brayden was definitely more of a physical type of guy. I was getting the full meaning of those words.

“Life’s about applying what you know in everyday scenarios. Calculus is not going to help me in the war against the rogues,” he’d complained when I’d first mentioned I wanted to go to college. I understood because I knew how much he’d detested the tutors we had. The only saving grace was that we were traveling the world, having all types of adventurous escapades in between the schoolwork.

In the end, he’d enrolled in Faust University with me. I think the idea of spending four years in lovely Pacifica, California was what finally won him over.

A part of me knew it was a mistake when the decision was made. Brayden and I should have parted ways amicably when we had the chance. I should have continued on to school to pursue the goal of teaching as I’d always planned, the one dream in life I felt like I could actually reach. The one goal in this messy, split life I’d been forced to live that kept me going. And Brayden should have been allowed to do the same thing. He should have headed straight to Havenway to train with the East Coast Faction Leader, to become the Shadow Shifter warrior he’d always wanted to be. Then none of this would have ever happened.

Unfortunately, with all the added traits shadows possessed, re-writing the past wasn’t one of them.

So, we’d been studying for hours and Brayden had just convinced me to have a glass of wine to relax a little. He could tell I was tense because math was not my favorite subject and maybe because I’d just tossed the textbook to the other end of the couch.

“Calm down, you’ll ace this test just like you’ve done all the others in the previous semesters. You’re brilliant,” he’d said, taking a seat beside me, extending the glass my way.

I’d paused with the complaint I was about to rattle off because there was something different about the way he was looking at me. The slow way his arm extended toward me, holding onto the glass a moment longer than necessary when I already had my fingers on the stem. We’d touched before, hell, when we were fifteen and in the rainforests of Sierra Leone and the only shower was a waterfall at the base of a mountain, we’d stripped and bathed there on more than one occasion. Of course, I’d been flat-chested with acne and dirty hair and his two brothers were also with us, so that couldn’t possibly have counted as being intimate.

Still, Brayden and I had known each other for what seemed like all our lives—or at least all of my life since I didn’t really start living until I met the Sanchez family. That means Brayden was like my older brother—him, Aidan, and Caleb. They all acted like they owned me, yet were extremely irritated by me at the same time. And they had sworn to kill any guy that even looked cross-eyed at me. Those are all threats brothers make.

Except Brayden wasn’t looking at me like a brother.

I knew this look. I’d seen it before on guys I went out with, namely Frankie Morrison, the jerk I gave my virginity to after chugging down one too many Blue Moons and popcorn.

Brayden’s dark-eyed gaze—the one I’d always thought was a little on the foreboding side, rather than sexy—had latched onto mine and held me in a vise grip. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think past his eyes and couldn’t get that glass up to my lips to take the sip I desperately needed.

“Brilliant and beautiful,” he’d said, his voice lowering to a deep whisper.

“I need a drink,” I said, gulping my own spit to assuage my dry throat and giving a little tug to the wineglass he was still holding onto.

He released the glass and I chugged that wine like it was grape juice, dipping my head back to be sure I broke that godforsaken eye hold he had on me. When I was finished Brayden had moved closer, so close I smacked him right across the nose with my glass as I brought it down from my mouth.

He frowned slightly and I laughed to sort of break the “oh-my-god” moment that was hanging around. It didn’t work.

“I’ve gotta do this,” he said, his face steadily inching closer to mine. “I’m gonna die right now if I don’t taste you.”

Whoa, what the hell? Really, Brayden? Are you really sitting on this couch acting like we’re long-lost lovers, or maybe new lovers on that date that leads directly to the bedroom? No, not with me, not with your best friend in the whole freakin’ world, you are not going to play me with your sexy-charming-heavily-accented-voice. Not today.

But yeah, he did and when I say Brayden can kiss any female right out of her panties, I mean every word.

His lips rained down on mine like a sultry summer storm. A soft swipe at first to let me know he was there and to let my body know this was definitely going down with or without its permission. The next contact was with a little more force, his tongue coming out to play a little taste testing. Then he grabbed the back of my head, tilting my head one way and his the other and went in for the kill.

I swear I felt like I was drowning, in his scent, his touch, his taste. Damn, it was all I could do to open my mouth and at least try to act like I wasn’t a gigantic idiot when it came to being kissed. Although, it was quickly apparent that I’d never, ever, been kissed like this. I mean, the whole licking at my lips before delving inside to tangle with my tongue was breathtaking. So much so I hurriedly wrapped my arms around his neck—dropping that damned glass onto the couch—and opened my mouth wider so I could have more.

His shoulders were just awesome. I know I’d seen them before and I’d even touched him, more times than I could count, but my fingers never grasped him like this, felt the sinewy muscle right at my fingertips. There’s no point in lying, I pressed into him hard, rubbing my boobs against his chest, loving the hell out of the way his fingers held the back of my neck so firmly while the other hand raked through my hair. In a minute I was probably going to straddle him, or moan or do something much geekier.

Instead, I pulled back.

Like he was a live electric wire and I’d foolishly touched him while wet. I jerked back so fast I almost flipped over the arm of the chair. Shaking fingers flew to my lips as if I could wipe away the sting of that kiss that still had my lips pulsating.

“You feel it,” Brayden said, out of breath, his dark brown eyes searching my face frantically. “I know you do, Lid, I know you feel this too.”

About three or four words into his comments I was shaking my head, denying this ever happened, refusing to believe he’d invaded our safe and cherished friendship with such a foolish and absurd notion like kissing. What was he thinking?

“Bray,” I started but didn’t really know how to finish.

“No. Don’t you dare lie to me, Lidia. We’re so past the lying stage now. Don’t even think about it, you hear me!” He wasn’t happy, his anger vibrated throughout his toned body, his biceps shaking as he continued to stare at me.