Kissing Her Crush

by Ophelia London

  “I’m sure,” Natalie replied, she had some pouting to do, after all. No more than two minutes later came a tap on her halfway-lowered window.

  “Thought it was you,” Dexter Elliott said.

  “Hey.” Natalie sat up and glanced past his shoulder, making sure his brother wasn’t with him. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s root beer float night. Never miss it when I’m in town.” He gestured at the parking lot. “That’s why the place is packed.”

  “Oh.” Dexter looked too much like his brother, so she turned to examine her nails.

  “Why aren’t you inside pigging out? I know you’re not against sugar.”

  She exhaled a halfhearted laugh. “Not in the mood.”

  “Come on.” Dexter opened her door. “We’ll split one. That way I won’t look as pathetic when I devour three on my own.”

  She could’ve begged off and stayed right where she was, but she didn’t have the energy to be contrary. “I don’t want to talk about your brother,” she warned, walking with Dexter to the entrance.

  “Which brother?”

  She shot him a look.

  “Oh, that brother.” He opened the glass door for her. “I won’t bring him up if you don’t.”

  “I won’t.”

  Dexter nodded somberly, then pointed his chin to the back. “Looks like the party room’s the only place with open tables.”

  Natalie glanced around at all the full seats and booths. “That must be where my family is, too.” She followed Dexter as he weaved through the main dining room. As soon as he entered the party room, all the lights in there went out, making her run into his back.

  Three flat screens mounted on the walls flickered on. “There’s a private event in here,” she whispered. “We should leave.”

  An image was slowly fading in on all the TVs, and music was playing, not from the TV’s speakers, but someone was strumming a guitar at the front of the room on the little stage. The same stage she’d seen Luke grace back in high school.

  Her heart suddenly lurched and panged. Maybe it was being with his brother, or maybe it was stupid Phillip Arthur, but she missed him so badly it hurt. Hell, she’d missed him even when she wouldn’t speak to him.

  Why hadn’t she answered all those times he’d called? She’d wanted to hear his voice, his laugh. But she’d been stubborn because he’d said something hurtful, and then she’d said something hurtful back, and then… Well, she couldn’t remember what happened after that, only that he was gone. He’d left for DC that night, angry, and she hadn’t even tried to apologize. Instinctively, she reached for her phone, but she hadn’t brought her purse along.

  “Can’t I get one tiny break?” she muttered under her breath.

  She closed her eyes and saw him that first night at Hershey Lounge. She saw him stammering while introducing her to his parents. She saw him covered in chocolate, felt his arms around her, his sweet, passionate kisses. She saw him the morning after she’d been sick, and he’d taken care of her, selflessly. She thought about that green smoothie and realized that was the moment she’d fallen in love with him.

  Her heart pounded up her throat. She loved Luke, and their insignificant differences didn’t matter enough to stop that. She should’ve tried harder to be with him, and not given up when she didn’t get her way. If his life was in DC’s fast lane, hers could be, too!

  She opened her eyes, realizing she was still in the dark and crowded events room at Phillip Arthur, wasting precious time at someone else’s party.

  “Dexter,” she whispered in a rush. “Do you know what hotel Luke is staying at in DC?”

  He flashed a quick glance at her then away. “What do you think? He’s my brother.”

  “I need the address or just give me the name and I’ll find it.” Her heart pounded in an ecstatic, nervous rhythm the second she had a plan. “Dexter.” She poked him when he didn’t reply. “I need to find him. Never mind, I’ll call him from the road, and if he doesn’t answer—”

  “Shh.” Dexter linked an arm through hers and pointed at the TVs on the walls. “Check it out.”

  Words suddenly flashed across the screen: Warning. Do not try this at home. Boathouses only. Arms and legs inside the ride at all times. Killer Canadian geese.

  Huh?

  An image took its place. It was a photo of…her. She was seven years old, braids in her hair and holding a red balloon from the county fair.

  Puzzling.

  The background music wasn’t a solo guitar anymore. Someone was singing a power ballad version of that Maroon 5 song about…sugar. Natalie blinked as another image appeared on the screen. It was her again. She was fourteen, displaying the trophy she’d won at her first science fair and grinning like it was an Oscar. Another caption: Only you can prevent forest fires. And Hazmat showers.

  What the hell?

  The next photo was of Natalie at her college graduation, wearing her black robe and yellow cum laude honor cord. She was also holding a Hershey bar.

  Caption: This woman has secrets: She loves apple cider, green smoothies, and me… The last one shouldn’t be a secret anymore.

  The crowd in the room started to murmur and whisper. Natalie squinted into the darkness. Was that the back of her mother’s head? Dad’s bald spot? That was definitely Ivy’s red ponytail. She even recognized Eileen Elliott’s immaculately-styled dark hair.

  Holy shiz. What was going on?

  Just as she was about to break away from Dexter and demand an explanation from whoever was in charge of this little stroll down memory lane, her eyes landed on the singing guitarist on the unlit stage. There were two of them now, both playing, but only one still crooning about sugar, about how he’s hurting for her, hurting and broken and needing just one little taste.

  “Luke?” she couldn’t stop from calling out.

  “Hey, Nat,” he squeezed in between verses. “How do we look?”

  “We?”

  He flashed that grin that made her knees weak, while pointing the neck of his guitar at a screen.

  Caption: Natalie, I’ll never go to your house hungry, unless I want mushrooms. Or your chocolate. Lots of your chocolate.

  As her photo disappeared, one of a preteen Luke took its place. She knew it was him, because, no matter the age, she’d recognize that face.

  The bottoms of your feet are ticklish. So are some other parts.

  Natalie couldn’t help smiling, and her cheeks felt flushed with happy embarrassment.

  Next, Luke was fifteen with floppy hair, holding a guitar. Then he was in his own graduation robe, one arm around his mother.

  You sing Madonna when you have a fever. And do other Madonna things I won’t mention in public.

  “Nice.” This came from Dexter as he grinned and nodded his approval.

  Natalie laughed as the last photo of Luke shattered apart on the screen, then pieced back together. But it wasn’t of just him now. Each of their photos was edited so they were together in the picture, as if they really had known each other forever.

  Ask her about Amazonian cocoa. But not about the Calamine. That’s my secret.

  Luke’s song picked up tempo, more urgent and pleading, matching the feelings in her heart she had to get out before she burst.

  “Luke!” she called between her cupped hands. “I need to talk to you!”

  But he just grinned and strummed the musical bridge of the song.

  “Luke!” she said, weaving her way toward the stage, bumping into chairs. “This can’t wait.”

  “It’s almost the end, baby. Watch!”

  She turned to the screen where a new image was slowly coming into focus. It was gray-green and grainy like a cop car’s dash cam. It took Natalie exactly two seconds to figure out what it was. A tiny, two-seater boat bobbing on the water, an out-of-focus couple kissing in the darkness. His fingers running though her hair.

  “Ermrgrrrrrrd,” she whispered, cover her smile with her hands.

  Before all t
he blood in her body could rush to her cheeks, the image was gone, leaving the screens glowing white. A second later, the room erupted with whoops and applause.

  “You know what you did to me that first day,” Luke said. “You made me see stars. I’ve been seeing stars ever since.”

  The whole room was bright enough now that Natalie saw Brandon was the other guitarist on stage. He stood farther back than Luke, but he was up there, strumming along just as confidently.

  How had this happened? And was her pounding heart about to beat right out of her chest?

  Just as Luke hit the last note of his song, and he and Brandon strummed their final chords, one final caption flashed across the screen: See you soon, Intercourse!

  The room erupted in cheers, applause, and ear splitting catcalls.

  “Subtle,” Natalie said, unsure if she wanted to kiss him or strangle him. Then their eyes locked across the room, and she had no intention of strangling him.

  “Well, that was memorable,” she heard Ivy say.

  “Get some good tips, Red?” Dexter replied.

  But she saw only Luke.

  He held the mike close to his mouth. “Natalie,” he said, drawing out the name. “I have to tell you something. Alone.”

  She had to tell him something, too—now. She wanted to call it out right then. But she kept her eyes on him as he wove through the crowd toward her in a hurried, determined clip, ignoring everyone he passed.

  When he got to her, he didn’t break stride, just took her hand and pulled her out the emergency exit at the back of the room. She barely had time to catch her breath or notice they were in an empty alley before he was in her face.

  “I’ll get to the apologies and explanations and groveling in a minute—and there will be plenty of that,” he said, his words just as fast and determined as his pace had been. “But this first.” Like he was psyching himself up, he rounded his lips, pushed out a breath, then focused those blue eyes right on her. “I’m in love with you. And if you’re pissed at me and want to throw Hershey bars at my head, I’ll still love you. And if you tell me my singing sucks and you hate my car, I won’t care, because I love you. I love all of you. So much.”

  It wasn’t possible for Natalie’s heart to beat any faster, soar any higher into the heavens. She should speak—it was her turn. But hearing that flood of words from Luke turned her into a tongue-tied pile of happy goo, too dizzy and dazzled to form any cohesive reply.

  “Looks like you need convincing,” he said. “I hoped you might.” His lips curved into that cocky smile she loved, and then those lips crashed into hers, making her stumble back and lose her footing, until his strong arms went around her.

  He wouldn’t let her breathe, and she didn’t care. He kissed her until she felt more flushed and dewy than while in a mushroom-induced fever. All the while, her heart was turning cartwheels. His hand moved to cup her head, the other slid down her spine, and then he bent her into a dip, her arms flying around his neck to hold on.

  “I love you,” she panted the first chance her lips were free.

  Luke opened his eyes. “What was that?”

  She grinned. “And I don’t care if you throw Brussels sprouts at my head”—she squeezed him—“I’ll still love you.”

  Luke smiled back with a glow in his eyes that she knew shone in her eyes, too. Gently, he pulled her to stand upright, but before she could regain balance, he kissed her again. It was slow, penetrating, filling her with beautiful words still unspoken. She felt his love though every inch of her body.

  “I’m so sorry about what happened that night,” Luke said, his voice husky, breath uneven.

  “So am I.”

  “No, I mean really sorry. I can’t believe I said those things to you.”

  “It’s okay.” She ran a hand through the back of his hair. “I said some things, too…because I was hurt, and so mad you were leaving that I really was about to pummel you with Hershey bars.”

  Luke laughed and pulled her into his strong, solid chest. “You should have.”

  “But listen.” She took in a deep breath and lifted her chin so they were eye to eye. “I know you didn’t make that decision lightly, and I know it’ll be hard for you to be away from your family again. But Luke, it was stupid for us to pretend the long-distance thing would work.”

  He looked at her, his mouth set in a confused frown. “What do you mean?”

  Finally, she could tell him the rest. “Your life’s in DC now. I’m a Hershey girl, and I never thought anything would make me want to leave. Until you.” She grinned when Luke blinked in surprise. She’d caught him off guard for once. “I can’t bear the thought of living even a train ride away from you. One of us has to compromise, and I’ve decided it’s—”

  As a thought dawned on her, her own gasp cut her off.

  “Luke, the video of us in the tunnel!” She clutched his arm. “Why didn’t you destroy it? You know if it gets out, the NIH will never touch you.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you’ll get fired from Penn Med.”

  “Can’t fire me. I quit.”

  Her mouth fell open like a fish, utterly confused now. “Why?”

  He paced a finger under her chin to close her gaping mouth, kissed her forehead and tucked some hair behind her ear, each touch making Natalie melt a little bit more. “My turn to talk again?”

  She nodded.

  “The why is simple. I’d be an idiot to not do everything in my power to be where you are. Since you’re here, I’m here—end of discussion, Hershey girl.” Reading the bewilderment on her face, Luke took both cheeks between his hands. His rough touch setting her whole body alight. “You’re a nutty, beautiful chemist, and you opened my mind, reopened a lot of things in me.”

  He hesitated before going on.

  “But I screwed up big time, Nat. I reverted to that closed-up guy who couldn’t trust anyone. When I realized how utterly wrong I was, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry, but you were gone, and I couldn’t find you. Everything went wrong so fast, your trial was about to go to pot, and I couldn’t let that happen.” He shook his head and stared into the middle distance. “I had to do something. I had to help the only way I knew how. I did what I had to, and I don’t regret anything I did to complete the—”

  He paused again and looked away. It took Natalie a few seconds to understand. When she did, she wondered how it was possible that she loved him even more?

  “You finished the trial.”

  His eyebrows furrowed like he was ready to deny it. But then he nodded. “How angry are you about it?”

  “Angry?” she echoed, her throat growing tight with gratitude. “But why, Luke? It cost you your career.”

  “I couldn’t let all you worked for just evaporate—it’s too important. Along with all the other things you changed in me, I know what direction to take my career now.” He took her hand and placed it over his heart—its strong, thrumming beat beneath her fingers. “If you’ll let me, I want to partner with you during all the future phases of your project. I want to see it through the developmental stages, the clinical trials, as far as we can take it.” He squeezed her hand between both of his. “Because I believe in you.”

  All she could do was gaze at him, dizzily speechless. Luke, the holistic microbiologist, wants to defend a theory based on chocolate? If she hadn’t already been crazy-ass in love with this man…

  She swallowed around the love lump in her throat. “That’s sweet, really so sweet, but I’ll never get any more funding. It sucks, but I’m dealing with it. Someday another researcher will pick up where we left off. I know it.”

  He opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again and then looked at the ground. “Um. There’s one other thing I need to tell you.” He rubbed his jaw. “It’s a little embarrassing. I didn’t want you to know.”

  “Luke.” She swatted his arm. “What is it?”

  “You’re kind of fully funded, like forever.” Before she could wonder what he meant, h
e added, “I always said I’d only touch my inheritance if something really important came up.” He brushed a warm hand across her cheek. “It finally did.”

  She knew her eyes were wide and unblinking with amazement, but she was too overwhelmed, too full of love and wonder to speak. She tried to say thank you, and the words hopefully made it out of her mouth before she kissed him.

  Tears stung her eyes when he enfolded her in his arms, filling her with hope and warmth and better daydreams than she’d ever had. And then his mouth was on her neck, and a raging heat replaced the warmth as he whispered her name over and over, repeating those three little words she’d never tire of hearing.

  “Ya know,” Natalie said, “right before your little slideshow in there, I was ten seconds away from leaving to track you down in DC.”

  “Oh yeah?” He touched his nose to hers. “Couldn’t live without me?”

  Heat spiraled around her core as she breathed him in. Why deny the truth? “Not for another second.”

  “Since it’s finally clear that neither of us is leaving Hershey, how about we try for that omelet again.”

  “Mmm. Excellent idea.” She slid both hands inside the back of his shirt, feeling hard, warm muscles and skin. Just a preview, she thought, so ready for the full unveiling.

  Luke pulled her against him and exhaled a sexy groan from deep in his chest. Natalie wanted to groan right back. He kissed her mouth, her forehead, that spot under her ear. And then he drew back and just stared at her neck until her panting, expectant breaths were as loud as his.

  “Time to get you off the streets, woman,” he said, then took her hand and led her shaky-legged through the parking lot.

  That was when Natalie noticed the T-shirt he was wearing had Kiss me, I heart Hershey printed on the front. She grinned and squeezed her delicious sugar Nazi’s hand even tighter, knowing she’d never, ever love any chocolate bar as much as him.

  “So,” he said, stopping in front of the Jeep, “will I get to see your special PJs again?” He dragged his gaze up her body, making her tingle with sweet thoughts, as well as a few savory ones.

  “I was mad at you, so I threw them on the compost pile with the rotten apples.”