The Kiss That Launched 1,000 Gifs

by Sheralyn Pratt

  Ash panicked, not quite sure what to do next. What were they supposed to do? And why wasn’t Grace freaking out with him?

  “And you know what that means!” Allison yelled into the mic.

  Most of the audience didn’t seem to know what that meant, but there were a couple hundred who started whistling and cat calling again. They knew what was up.

  Allison grabbed Ash by the arm and pulled him to the other side of her, so he was standing next to Grace. “I don’t think any of us saw this coming, but are you two still willing to live up to your end of the deal?”

  Grace reached over and brought the mic to her mouth. “I dunno. Forty-three seconds?” She sent Ash a searching look. “Wouldn’t that be some sort of record for you, Ash?”

  Ash had never heard two thousand people make sounds of pity on his behalf at the same time until that moment. Oh, she was good. She was also going down.

  He pulled the mic over to him. “Start the clock, Allison. Grace has some words she needs to eat.”

  The audience cheered, everyone seeming to be into it now, while Allison looked like a child at Disneyland for the first time when she called out, “Set the clock!” A projector turned on from the other side of the park, projecting a countdown clock that was preset to 43 seconds onto the screen behind the stage.

  Ash reached for the mic again. “And don’t be afraid to call out time for us, so we don’t have to keep our eyes on the clock.”

  That earned him some cheers. He turned to face Grace, feeling even more confident when he realized she looked more than a little ill. Behind that smile of hers, she was freaking out just like he was. Something about that was reassuring.

  “You ready to get this done?” he said, not in the mic. Allison was tucking that back into the stand as he and Grace faced off against each other.

  She took a breath. “I should have said a second for every ten thousand raised.”

  Ash shrugged it off. “It is what it is. We can get through this. It’s a commercial-and-a-half.” She still looked nervous, licking her lips as she sent a sidelong look at their concert-sized audience. With every second they waited, she was getting more hesitant. “Just think of a mattress commercial,” he coached. “Or the next Honda clearance sale playing in the background.”

  That got a light laugh out of her, and Grace looked away from the audience and back at him. “Is that what you’ll be doing?”

  Ash grinned at her, using his finger to tilt Grace’s chin up. When her body tensed and her lips parted, there was only one thing to do.

  “No,” he whispered, then leaned in and pressed his lips lightly against hers.

  “Whoa! They’ve already started,” Allison called out into the mic. “Start the clock! Start the clock!”

  Ash heard clapping and cheering. He even heard some laughing and whooping, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of his own heart beating in his ears. He did hear it when a large group of the audience yelled out “Forty!” letting him know that three seconds had past.

  Three seconds? Already? He’d still done nothing more than press his lips to hers and hold on to the contact. The back of his finger still pressed her chin up from beneath, but that was the only contact between them besides their lips. But when they broke apart for a breath, it was Grace who made the kiss a little more firm while bringing her hand up to touch his arm. Such a simple act shouldn’t have been a snap point for him, but if it hadn’t been for a few loud catcalls from the peanut gallery, it would have been.

  Everything in Ash’s soul demanded the he step forward and pull Grace flush, but that wasn’t an option. Not here. Not now. He had to remain objective. He had to remember they had an audience… with cameras. Megan with a DSLR camera. Yet when Grace’s lips parted against his, Ash didn’t even hesitate. His free hand moved to her waist of its own accord and he matched her.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Allison muttered, the mic picking her up a bit and sending her words over the speakers.

  Ash did a quick check in to make sure he was still in PG-land.

  One hand cupping Grace’s face? Check.

  One hand chastely on her waist? Check.

  One reasonable kiss that might show up on any TV show before the news? Check.

  As for Grace, Ash was quite aware of the hand she had chosen to rest lightly on his chest, while the other one now rested on his hip. Between that and her slightly open-mouthed approached, if anyone was toeing the line of public decency, it was Grace.

  And he loved it.

  Ash wanted more, of course, but the feel of her lips actively seeking his and drawing him in was more than he had been expecting from her. And the way she kept opening up the kiss made him feel like she was almost daring him to go in for a taste.

  So when the crowd yelled “Thirty!” he did.

  Big mistake.

  A dozen things seemed to happen at once, and all too fast to stop. Suddenly they were too close… as in flush against each other. Ash wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but it probably had something to do with the fact that his hand had dropped from Grace’s waist to her hip and the hand that had been carefully cradling her jaw was now buried in her hair. But all of that awareness disappeared as he processed his first quick taste of her mouth.

  She’d had some of those candied almonds that were for sale. Ash’s diet didn’t allow for sugar-covered protein, but he got a taste of them now. And when Grace pressed in and took a taste of her own, only the cry of “Twenty!” brought Ash back to reality.

  He was on a stage. In front of news cameras. Kissing. As far as he could tell, they were still in PG-ish-land, but they needed to dial things back.

  Removing his hands from where they were currently latched, Ash weaved his fingers through Grace’s and brought their hands back down to their sides as he stepped away from their contact. It had to be done—if not for the cameras, then for his sanity. His head felt like it was full of sand and his body felt like it was filled with firecrackers. He needed her hands off of him. If Grace so much as breathed on his neck, he’d be cooked.

  So he kept it light. Kept it easy. Kept it—

  “Ten!” the crowd yelled as one.

  Thank heavens! He needed to get off that stage. Stat. And he needed to finish the kiss off in a way that wouldn’t leave him staring hopefully into her eyes in front of a bunch of cameras.

  Light. Easy. Professional.

  “I’m going to dip you,” he said against Grace’s mouth before stepping back and making a show of finishing the kiss off in a melodramatic style that would make a good snapshot on the news as the audience chanted the final countdown.

  “Five! Four! Three! Two! One!”

  Ash brought Grace up, knowing she would follow his lead when he spun her out of his arms so they could stand next to each other, side-by-side. No eye gazing—not with all-seeing HD cameras on the scene. They could talk about how much they wanted to try that again later.

  The crowd cheered as Ash stepped up to the microphone. “Thank you for your generosity, everyone. I really appreciated it… and I’m pretty sure the children will too.”

  It got him a laugh. He glanced around to see if Allison was going to step up to the mic, but she had disappeared at some point during the kiss, it seemed. He didn’t see her anywhere.

  “Well, that’s it for us, I think, so for those of you who are here to see the Neon Trees, make some noise to get them out here!”

  Someone in the crowd started to chant Trees! When others joined in, he looked at Grace for the first time. Her lips were slightly swollen and her eyes seemed doubly dark when she looked back. And when she smiled at him, it hit him like a pillow to the stomach.

  “I think that’s our cue. Vámonos,” she said. When he nodded in agreement, she turned and headed for the wings of the stage, pulling him after her. He fell in step like a baby duck. Wherever Grace was heading, Ash planned on being in her shadow.

  Allison was in their faces the second they stepped off the stage.

 
“That was insane, you two!” she said over the crowd. “Insane!”

  Grace dropped his hand. “Thanks. Glad we made a difference.”

  “Oh, you did!” Allison said with a little clap. “And you gave me a great idea for a follow up. We could do a video asking How many shoes can one kiss provide? and then show all the shoes that are donated based on the money you two raised. I think it would go viral!”

  Ash barely heard the words. He was mainly aware of how quickly Grace had shucked him off the moment they had stepped out of sight of the crowd.

  “For now, I’d get the band out there,” Grace said. “I think your audience is ready for the main event.”

  Then she turned to Ash. Finally! Now he could look her in the eyes and—

  “I’m going to go find Esme,” Grace said, holding her hand out his direction for a shake. “Thanks for keeping classy out there, Ash. That could have gone bad fast.”

  Wait. What? A handshake? That’s how she wanted to leave this?

  Ash took her hand again, motioning to Allison to give them some space. The woman seemed happy to comply as she watched Ash lead Grace a few steps away. The crowd was still chanting when he looked in her eyes. “Don’t you want to talk about that at all? I mean, it’s not every day you…” kiss your coworker and discover it was everything you hoped it would be.

  But he didn’t say that last part out loud. It didn’t feel safe.

  “Kiss a coworker?” Grace said, finishing half of his thought. “I know, but I think we pulled it off, don’t you? We should probably go talk to Erik and see which part will be used.”

  She was blowing him off. After a kiss like that? They’d been seamless together, and now she wanted to go chat up Erik before joining her friend for the concert?

  Ash felt the electric sparks still skipping through his veins flash freeze into ice. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, letting go of her hand. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t offend you or anything.”

  She shook her head. “Not at all. We’re good.”

  “Good,” he said, then watched as Grace walked away.

  The red wine ice cream was back on the coffee table.

  “So it’s speak-freely time,” Esme said, dipping her spoon into the spice. “Was that kiss as good as it looked?”

  Grace groaned and rested her head in her hands. “It was bad, Esme.”

  The spoon stopped half way to Esme’s mouth. “Bad?”

  Grace shook her head. “No, it was so good that it was bad. Does that make sense?”

  “Mmmm. That makes total sense,” she said, finishing her bite.

  “Not to be gross, but I’m pretty sure my ovaries dropped an egg at some point during those 43 seconds. I have seriously never been kissed like that before.”

  Esme choked on her ice cream for a moment as she started to laugh. “Wow. Is that why you didn’t make eye contact with him for the rest of the night?”

  “I claim self defense,” Grace said, holding up her hands in surrender before she looked at her friend and let out a resigned sigh. “What am I going to do, Esme?”

  “Well, it all seems pretty clear to me,” she said, setting her spoon down. “He clearly likes you. You’re both single. What’s stopping you from running to his place right now and telling him you want to figure out whatever it is that you two have with each other?”

  Grace shook her head. “I can’t date him.”

  “No?” Esme said, eyebrow arched high. “And please illuminate me on your logic behind this radical conclusion.”

  “It’s too soon after Phillip,” Grace blurted. “He would be a rebound.”

  Esme nodded sagely. “And you don’t want him to be a rebound?”

  “No… he’s just a player. He dates women, then tosses them to the side.”

  “Which means he’s a great guy to rebound with.”

  “No,” Grace muttered, resting her head in her hands again. “You don’t get it.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. If a man kissed me like that, I would not be inviting you over to my place for ice cream later that night. I’d be with him.”

  Grace groaned and fell sideways on the couch.

  Esme studied her. “You want to know what I think your problem is?”

  “What?”

  “You like to be in control,” Esme said. “And you have no control over how much you like this guy.”

  Grace let out a grunt that was basically an admittance of guilt.

  “Ash is nothing like the man you’ve always imagined for yourself… a politician… a senator. Someone with a law degree, refined tastes, and a desire to make the world a better place. A smart man in a sharp suit. That’s always been your type. Then comes along some predictably hot jock whose laid-back approach to life embodies all the things you think are wrong with the world, and your knees buckle. You hate liking him because you think it’s so… expected.”

  “Exactly!” Grace said, so glad her friend knew her better than she knew herself. “He’s just a hot guy with a hot body. It’s only human to be attracted to him, but I still want more!”

  “Like what?”

  “Like… a man who wants to do things that matter!”

  “Oh, like volunteer to raise $43,000 for charity?” Esme said.

  Grace rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious here.”

  “Me, too!” Esme said, leaning forward. “Maybe it wasn’t a black tie event tonight, but Ash still stepped up when asked, and he did it with a smile. And we both know he would have done the same thing no matter what the two of you had been asked to do tonight. Dunk tank? Karaoke? Anything. He would have done it.”

  Grace sighed. “You’re not getting it.”

  “No,” Esme said, capping the ice cream. “I think I get what’s going on really well. I think you’re the one who’s confused.”

  Grace aimed a pout at her friend. “You’re supposed to be helping here.”

  “I am.” Esme reached over and placed her hand on Grace’s. “I like him, Grace. And when I say that, what I’m really saying is that I like you around him. I like that he knows how to push your buttons and that he gets you to push back. He gets you to smile, and that’s something Phillip rarely did. He was too busy critiquing you all the time.”

  “Phillip was helping me,” Grace countered.

  “He was grading you,” Esme said. “All the time. And the part of you that never feels like you’re good enough ate it up with a spoon.”

  “That’s not how it was,” Grace said, fighting back anger. “Phillip’s a great guy.”

  “Maybe,” Esme said, reaching for her clutch. “But he wasn’t great for you, Grace. The two of you looked like a magazine ad together, but you were always tense. You’re not that way with Ash, and I like that. I just think you’re worried that he’ll break your heart if you give him a shot at it.”

  “Which is not a totally irrational thing to think, given that he’s never not broken a girl’s heart after dating her.”

  “Maybe,” Esme said with a shrug. “Every relationship takes two, Grace. So if you’re scared to date Ashton Miller, then fine. But I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you’re somehow right and he’s somehow wrong.” She stood. “I think it’s pretty clear that he would ask you out if you gave him even half of a green light. I say, go for it.” She took a step closer and squeezed Grace’s shoulder. “But it’s up to you. This is your life. You decide who gets to be a part of it.”

  Grace reached up and covered Esme’s hand with her own. “You’re leaving?”

  Esme nodded. “I think you need some alone time. Plus, your bedtime is in like fifteen minutes. You should probably try to give that a go so you’re running on all cylinders tomorrow.”

  “Probably,” Grace said, giving Esme’s hand a squeeze. “Thanks for having my back tonight.”

  “Anytime.”

  Grace walked into work the next day with sweaty palms. Esme’s words the night before had swayed her. Grace was going to give Ash the green light
to ask her out. Or, at least, that’s what she had been planning to do until the moment she saw Emily leaning across Ash’s desk and pointing to something on his phone.

  Seriously? Did the flirtation never stop? And did Grace really want to be with a man who attracted other woman so thoughtlessly?

  No. She didn’t.

  In the space of a heartbeat, Grace’s tentative green light switched into a hard red, and she found an excuse to step away from her desk.

  If Esme were standing next to Grace in that moment, she would have seen the problem too. Yes, Grace wanted Ash for herself, but so did every other woman on the block. It would be an endless competition for his attention, and there was no way Grace wanted a relationship like that.

  Emily could have Ash for the whole two weeks the relationship would last before Ash ejected and moved on.

  Grace needed to steer clear and be safe around Ash. That was all.

  Grace avoided her desk most of the day, but made her way to the sound booth at her usual time: 1:45. Part of her worried that Ash would break form and meet her there to try to talk again, but he didn’t. Per usual, he waited until the last second to plop into his seat. He was late on purpose, Grace finally realized. He intentionally came in every day at the last minute, not because he had poor time management but because he had great time management. In a way, Ash was extremely punctual.

  When he took his seat across from her, he didn’t smile or make any jabs. He just waited until the intro music played through before picking up his stress squeezer and leaning in start the show.

  After all, it was an odd day.

  “I’d like to welcome you all to a very unique episode of The Battle of the Sexes,” he said, his voice sounding chipper—playful, even. But his tone certainly didn’t match the look in his eyes. “This is the episode where every one of you knows that Grace and I made out last night, but we’re all going to try to pretend like it didn’t happen and get back to business as usual. I’m your host for this special edition, Ashton Miller, and with me today is the woman who probably missed watching the nightly news for the first time in her life last night; my sugar-lipped cohost, Grace Vasquez.”