Kissing Her Crush

by Ophelia London

  “They seem down to earth,” Natalie said, unable to sit there and not help. While Luke whisked the eggs, she added milk and threw in some grated cheese. “I’d never picture them as fans of The Walking Dead.”

  “Why not?”

  “It seems too…normal.”

  Luke stopped whisking and looked up. “We’re as normal as anyone. I know they’ve got this big house up here like some freaking monument, but that doesn’t mean we’re untouchable.”

  Natalie knew for a fact just how touchable Luke was. She couldn’t stop her gaze from sliding over the muscles of his arms, up his chest and neck, to his face.

  The way he was looking back at her gave her the overwhelming desire to bite her bottom lip and let the chips fall where they may.

  But that was asking for trouble.

  “So, back to what Dexter was saying?”

  “Dex, right.” Luke took a step away from the counter and sucked in a breath, running a hand up the back of his head. “My parents come from a long line of Massachusetts families dating back to the Plymouth Rock. A whole lot of wasps in the bloodline, couples that stayed together when they had no functioning marriage to speak of. Even in the twenty-first century, my divorce threw my parents for a loop. It killed them, actually.”

  Natalie nodded, while her heart twisted into a little knot.

  “The divorce was finalized two years ago, but it’s longer than that since my ex and I separated. Our marriage was over, but some of that wasp fortitude was in me because I kept hoping we could work it out.” He paused and looked across the room, his expression showing weariness, leftover defeat. “But when trust is broken and there’s no love to speak of on either side, what’s the point?”

  Even with the Hershey grapevine, Natalie couldn’t remember hearing why Luke had gotten divorced. Maybe she had heard the why, but ever since graduation, she’d made herself stop thinking about him. Her feelings had been self-strangled—dead.

  Until six days ago.

  “I’m sorry.”

  A corner of his mouth formed into a non-happy half smile. “Thanks.”

  “When you thought I had a boyfriend, you mentioned something about how easy it happens. Were you talking about…” She let the sentence fade.

  Luke flipped their omelet with more force than necessary. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

  So, she’d cheated on him. Luke’s ex-wife had broken their marriage vows and hooked up with someone else, destroying their life together. The thought made her sick.

  “And then we…in the tunnel… And you thought I had a boyfriend afterward.” She felt even sicker. When he still wouldn’t look at her, she pried his hand off the handle, shut off the burner, and pushed the pan off the heat. “Luke.” She turned him so he faced her. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For…” She bit her lip on accident. “For making you feel guilty about what happened at Hershey Lounge and in the tunnel. Thinking we were doing something wrong. I’m sorry I put you through that.”

  Finally, he lifted his eyes to hers. “It’s not your fault. I just never want to put a guy through what I went through; it was hell. I don’t know, you—it happened so suddenly. And when I stopped to think, it seemed out of the blue that you’d kiss me like that.”

  Looming embarrassment rose in her chest, but the confession had to happen now. Luke deserved to know. “For me, it wasn’t out of the blue at all.”

  “No?”

  She glanced down at the pan of eggs, ruined. “I, uh, kind of had a crush on you.”

  His eyes blinked in surprise. “When?”

  “High school, middle school, probably from the womb.”

  “That was years ago.”

  “Yeah, well, it was pretty intense—which sounds creepy, I know—and my feelings didn’t just evaporate the day we graduated. But it’s not like I’m some crazy stalker chick. I moved on, so you don’t have to worry that I’ve been carrying a torch all this time. And you pretty much started it, again. I’m only telling you so you’ll know I don’t go around straddling random guys at Hersheypark without some feeling behind it.” She paused to take in a breath, prepared for Luke to immediately drive her back to the lab and dump her off in the parking lot. “So yeah, there’s that.”

  But he didn’t freak out. “Interesting story,” he said, tilting his head.

  “No need to smile all cocky like that. I said I was over you.”

  “Uh-huh, that’s what you said. What do you mean though, that I started it again?”

  Her stupid, stupid babbling mouth. How had she let that slip? “I don’t want to say.” She crossed her arms. “It’s embarrassing.”

  Luke looked at the ceiling and chuckled, causing Natalie to notice how the muscles of his thick neck flexed. “Now you have to tell me.”

  “It happened a million years ago. You don’t even remember it.”

  His smiled dropped. “This is about me? And you?”

  She nodded.

  “Well”—Luke shifted his weight—“You said it’s embarrassing. For which one of us?”

  Natalie couldn’t stop a dark laugh from escaping her throat. “Definitely not you.”

  “But you said I don’t remember.”

  “You’ve never said anything,” she said. “Not now and not back then.”

  “Sorry. I’m at a loss here. Looks like you’ll have to remind me.”

  She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to be having this conversation at all. It wouldn’t be embarrassing for Luke, which made it even more mortifying for Natalie. What other choice did she have, though?

  “Do you remember the summer before seventh grade?” she asked. “Justin Bay had a birthday party in Bird-in-Hand. It was my first boy/girl party at night.”

  “Mine, too.”

  “Justin’s mom put on a DVD, but all the cool kids snuck out—you snuck out. Do you remember?”

  He thought for a moment, then nodded.

  “My cousin and I snuck out a little bit later, not to follow your group, but we found you anyway. You guys were using that old boathouse to play seven minutes in heaven.”

  Luke laughed under his breath. “I haven’t thought about that in fifteen years.”

  “When we got there, you and Melissa Mallory were about to go to the boathouse around the corner from the group. You went in first and shut the door, and Melissa was supposed to go in after you.” She paused and looked away, tugging at the neck of her shirt. “But she just stood outside the door, then walked off.”

  Luke blinked. “That’s not what happened. Trust me. I remember that experience vividly.”

  “Then why did you never say anything to me about it? Not then, not the day after or the millions of times we crossed paths?” She swallowed. “Imagine for one second how painfully embarrassing that was for me, Luke. We saw each other all the time and you never gave me one word, not a look meant just for me. But don’t worry, I figured it out on my own. You thought I wasn’t good enough. You made that perfectly clear when you pretended it never happened.”

  She’d worked herself up so much that she was about to storm from the room. Until she remembered she didn’t have a car.

  “You lost me again,” Luke said. “Why would I tell you about what happened in the boathouse between me and my girlfriend?”

  Since there would be no storming out, and since Luke still didn’t get it, Natalie took in another deep breath. “She left you in there alone. I saw the whole thing.”

  “That’s impossible.” He stared into the middle distance, his forehead crinkling as he strained to recover the memory.

  “Luke, how can you not…?” Finally, Natalie understood the miscommunication going on, and her mouth fell open as she blinked, connecting the dots. “Wait. So, you didn’t know?”

  “I still don’t know.” He lifted both hands. “Would you please finish? You’re saying Melissa wasn’t in the boathouse?”

  “Yeah.” She squinted and ran a hand over her throat. “I felt
bad that she ditched you like that. Then my cousin dared me to go in, like it was a peer pressure thing. But the truth is, you were in there. Luke Elliott. And I wanted to do it. So I…”

  “That was you?”

  She closed her eyes and confirmed the ancient memory with a nod.

  “In the boathouse with me.” His voice was incredulous. “That was you.”

  Natalie was still a bit incredulous, herself. Suddenly, so much made sense. Luke hadn’t blown her off or ignored her. He simply hadn’t known. “You and Melissa were like the hot seventh grade couple, so I assumed you’d know I wasn’t her right away, even in the dark.”

  “We hadn’t started going out yet. That party was when we got together.” He looked down at his hands and rubbed them together. “I remember she came in—you came in while my back was to the door. I was trying to remember the last thing I ate and wondered if she would be able to taste it.”

  “Strawberry cake,” they said together.

  He dropped his chin and a laugh rumbled from his chest. “You came in and touched the back of my shoulder.”

  “I felt you turn around,” she said, tag-teaming the story.

  “Then I just went for it. I had no idea what I was doing.”

  “Ha! Such a lie. I was the inexperienced one; you knew exactly what you were doing, where to put your hands, my hands, you even stopped to hug me right in the middle of it.” She felt her heart pound for that silly thirteen-year-old kissing bandit.

  “So wait. All this time, you thought I knew it was you with me?”

  “Yeah. While we were together, I forgot you were with Melissa, or I didn’t care. I mean, you were this amazing kissing sex god, and she got to make out with you all the time, and I knew there was no way she liked you more than I did, so it seemed fair.”

  “Melissa and I hadn’t kissed before then. I hadn’t kissed anyone before then.”

  “What?”

  “It’s the truth. And you’re telling me my first kiss…” He pointed at her.

  “Was my first kiss, too.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Huh.” She twisted her lips. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. That’s one hell of a story.” He smiled and looked at her with those blue eyes she’d fallen for before she could even drive. “Now that I think about it, I should’ve known.” He leaned forward. “You bit your lip back then, too.”

  The air between them came alive, sparked, crackled. Natalie couldn’t move. If she could, would she be responsible for her actions?

  “We…came here to eat, Luke,” she said after wetting her dry throat. “I think our omelet is dead.”

  “What should we do?”

  “You don’t happen to have an all you can eat Chinese buffet stashed in one of those rooms upstairs?”

  A muscle in Luke’s mouth twitched. “Nothing up there but bedrooms.”

  The word hung in the sparking air between them, making Natalie’s mind reel, her palms sweat, mouth flood with the memory of the taste of honey, the taste of him.

  Breaking the spell, Luke took a full step back and crossed his arms tight across his chest. “We probably shouldn’t go upstairs any time soon.”

  “Ya think?”

  He smiled that hunky, dreamy smile she remembered from high school. “Since my parents have the TV so loud I can actually hear zombies eating each other, I don’t feel like hanging out in here, either.”

  “We should go back to the lab. We still have two hours until the molds are set, but we can always—”

  “I have a better idea. Give me five minutes.” He yanked open the fridge. “You like cold fried chicken?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “And you have no lactose intolerance?”

  “I can tolerate anyone,” she said. “You, of all people, should know that.”

  He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Hilarious. I’ll grab food, and the wine rack is over—no, wait, we’re working. There’s a beverage fridge in the back of the third pantry.” He pointed across the kitchen. “Why don’t you grab us some water or whatever you want.”

  “Beverage fridge?” She repeated deadpan. “Third pantry?”

  “Seven people used to live in this house. Five were male, one of those being Dexter who has literally, literally eaten a horse.”

  “Eck.” Natalie cringed. “For real?”

  Luke tossed her a cloth reusable bag for the drinks. “He lost a bet to me and I made him pay.”

  “Boys.” She shook her head. By the time she’d stocked the bag, Luke had already made two trips outside. The third time, he took the bag of drinks and ushered her down the front steps. “We’re not eating now? Luke, we have a long night ahead of us, who knows when we’ll—”

  “I’m feeding you, Ms. Holden. Just not here.” He placed her bag in the backseat of the Jeep, which she noticed had three other bags, a pile of blankets, and two camping lanterns.

  Chapter Eight

  The necessity of a Plan B hadn’t occurred to Luke until he’d found himself staring into Natalie’s chocolate eyes with the word bedroom echoing in his ears. Then he pictured spreading her across the kitchen table beside his mother’s flower arrangement.

  Dude. That thought had been enough to metaphorically dump cold water down his back.

  By the light of the dashboard, he caught Natalie’s eager, animated smile as he drove down the hill. Near the bottom, he hung a left. The place was mostly dark, illuminated by the moon and a single street lamp in the parking lot. He was glad he’d thought to bring the kerosene lanterns at the last minute.

  “We’re stopping here?”

  “Yes, indeed.” He reached back and grabbed three bags, the blankets, and one lantern. Gauging by the dim light but mostly by memory, Luke led them across the grass, over the bridge, and a few yards down the paved trail that forked at the foot of the greenbelt.

  Natalie was holding onto the back of his shirt the whole time, not knowing the terrain like he did. He grinned and glanced over his shoulder at her. Her trust pushed his “inner security” up to the stud level.

  “I’ve never been on a picnic in the middle of the night.”

  “Classy, huh?”

  “Creative. But it’s cold and pitch black.”

  “It won’t be.” He set down his haul, passed her the warmest blanket, crouched before the lantern, then lifted the glass chimney from the burner. “There’s a book of matches in your pocket.”

  “No, there’s— Um, how did these get in the back pocket of my jeans, Luke?”

  “Magic.” He smiled in the dark as Natalie lobbed them at his head. He caught them before they made contact, struck a match, then lit the wick, adjusting the level as it began to smoke. A minute later, both lanterns were shining bright.

  “I love this smell.” Her voice drifted to him. “Reminds me of camping.”

  “Me, too.”

  With one blanket around her shoulders, she unrolled another and spread it across the grass. “You used to camp?”

  “Still do.”

  “Huh. I never pictured the Elliotts roughing it.”

  “I’m an expert at rough.”

  His attempt at an innocent flirt was rewarded with one of her soft, feminine laughs.

  “I camp mostly with my brothers.” He smiled at a memory as he helped Natalie unload the food. “There’s this one time when Dex, Vince, and I drove to the mountains at the foot of the Ozarks—middle of the night, spur of the moment, no map and zero cell reception. When we were sufficiently lost, we got out and walked for a while then crashed out on the ground. We woke up surrounded by a flock of hungry and very pissed off Canadian geese.”

  “Geese?” She grinned and handed him a pile of napkins. “How terrifying for you.”

  “Those things are damn mean. Bite your frickin’ hand off if they think it’s food.”

  “You’re a regular Daniel Boone.” Her musical laugh filled his ears. “Where are the plates?”

  “Must’ve forgot.”

 
“You forgot plates for a picnic? Talk about roughing it.”

  “Don’t make me bite you like a goose, woman.”

  “I’d like to see you try…”

  Though he was tempted, he didn’t take the bait but walked to the Jeep for the last of the supplies.

  No, he would not take her bait, no matter what she did. It was his fault they had to leave the house in the first place and rough it in the chilly autumn air. If he hadn’t made that crack about the bedrooms, then he wouldn’t have pictured Natalie on the kitchen table and then in one of those beds. That was about the time he’d needed to get the hell out of there before fantasy became reality.

  Natalie was smart, funny, sexy as hell…and she was available. Hell, man, she’d been his first kiss.

  The instant she’d told him the guy in the car was her brother, he’d felt like that kid in the boathouse again, waiting to kiss a girl for the first time. Happy and nervous and alive. So alive.

  That sexy woman wrapped in his blanket in the dark was single, but still off limits. And that was really starting to mess with his head. It was a good thing he was only in Hershey temporarily. The noise and energy of Philly and DC would take his mind off of her in no time.

  “Are you coming back or what?” Natalie called. It made him smile. Damn, this girl. By the time he returned, she’d divided the food, a slightly larger plate-less pile for him, though he knew full well she could eat.

  “Oh, phew.” She looked up at him. “Thought you might’ve been attacked by geese.”

  Don’t kiss her. Do not kiss her.

  “Why am I not surprised to see you drinking that?” he said, desperate for small talk, pointing at the two cans of orange soda by her pile of food.

  “I’m not a sugar Nazi.” She took a long swig.

  “You better brush your teeth after that.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Surgeon General,” she said, teasingly. “On sample days, I probably brush ten times, so we’re good.” She gave him a sparkly grin, pulled off a large purple grape from its bunch with her teeth, then chomped it like a sexy pig. “Why aren’t you eating? Sit.”

  Luke took a second to wonder what it would be like to be that grape, then steeled himself and sat.

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing behind him.