Addison Blakely: Confessions of A PK

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Addison Blakely: Confessions of A PK Page 32

by Betsy St. Amant


  And I don’t mean the Lamborghinis.

  “Let’s just take it from there, okay?” Wes’s voice dropped, his husky whisper filling the space between us. “I’m trying, PK. And not for you, but because of you.”

  “That’s all I can ask,” I whispered back, unable to stop the smile that surely matched his. He eased toward me, and my heart jump-started in anticipation of his kiss. I tilted my head, meeting him halfway, lips parted, ready for …

  A chaste kiss across my cheek.

  “I almost forgot your birthday present.” Wes reached into his jacket pocket, leaving me in the driver’s seat completely confused. “Here. Happy birthday.”

  He handed me a box of movie-theater-sized candy, a big orange bow on top covering the letters.

  I took it slowly, adrenaline still flooding my body from the kiss-that-wasn’t, and numbly pulled off the bow to reveal …

  Gummi bears.

  I snorted. Then snickered. Then tossed my head back and laughed so hard, tears filled my eyes.

  “What’s so funny?” Wes took the box from me and studied it as if it held the answers to my hysteria. “Isn’t this your favorite candy? That day in the store—”

  My guffaw broke him off, and his obvious confusion only made me laugh harder. I clutched my stomach as tears fell down my cheeks. If he only knew. Oh, if he only knew.

  “Sorry.” I hiccuped, finally trying to get control of myself. “It’s just a long story.” To put it mildly. I knew better than to ask God for a sign, but this one seemed a little too coincidental to be a coincidence, if you know what I mean.

  “Whatever. I’d rather make you laugh than cry.” He knuckled away a rogue tear still dotting my cheek.

  I sobered. “You’ve done your share of both so far.”

  “Today’s your birthday—a fresh start. How about as your real gift I promise to only do the former?”

  His hand cradled my face, and I offered a tentative smile. “Deal.” Only time would tell if he could keep such a promise. But I was more than interested in waiting around and finding out.

  He edged toward me, pressing his forehead against mine. Once again I eagerly awaited a kiss that didn’t come.

  I pulled back slightly to see his eyes. “I promise I won’t get hysterical again. I’m done laughing.”

  “No. It’s not that.” Wes reached up and tangled a strand of my hair around his finger, drawing me close but still not kissing me. He closed his eyes and gently pressed his cheek against mine as if I were breakable. “Things are going to be different this time.”

  The disappointment over the lack of kiss faded as respect and a little bit of awe filled the gap. Wes wasn’t kidding. He really had changed. He really was trying. This wasn’t the same boy who’d tried to push me into something I wasn’t ready for that night at the impromptu picnic.

  This was a man.

  “We should get back inside to your party.” Wes finally pulled away, letting out a ragged breath that proved he wanted to kiss me as much as I’d wanted him to. My respect grew.

  “There’s plenty of time for partying. I haven’t even opened my gifts yet.” I tore open the box of gummi bears and poured a few out. “Speaking of gifts, do you want one?”

  “Sure.” He plucked a green and a yellow bear from my palm. “I never told you this, but they’re my favorite, too.”

  The red gummi bear froze halfway to my mouth as I stared at Wes in surprise. His favorite. After all this time … I popped the candy in my mouth and chewed quickly to hide my smile. Thanks, God. There were signs, and then there were signs. Regardless, this was one PK who finally knew what she wanted and, most importantly, who she was.

  And suddenly lemon drops didn’t hold nearly the appeal.

  Betsy St. Amant lives and writes in Louisiana. This multi-published author is a wife, mother, former youth Sunday school teacher, and avid reader who has a heart for teenagers and enjoys sharing the wonders of God’s grace through her stories.

 

 

 


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