Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
My mom said Art had needs and I would understand when puberty happened to me.
I’d scoffed and said puberty sucked.
Art had needs—I was his need. Stupid boy just hadn’t figured it out yet.
I scowled. “What are you doing here?” My hands tensed around the chain of my swing. I didn’t want him to see the hurt in my eyes or the love in my heart. He didn’t deserve me anymore—not with his horrible behavior.
Art moved in front, grabbing the chain so my swing snapped to a halt. His groin was eye level and I swallowed hard.
Bending over me, he whispered, “I’ve been a fucking idiot, Buttercup.”
“Don’t swear and don’t call me Buttercup.”
He smiled, but the grin didn’t meet his eyes. He looked sad and lost and afraid. “Did I ruin it? Did I break what we had?”
My stomach twisted into bows.
Letting his grip trail down the chain, he captured my hands and squatted in front of me so he now looked up as if begging. “Cleo. I know I was an ass to you. But… I miss you.”
A large ball wedged in my throat.
I miss you, too.
I love you.
I want you to love me the same way.
Everything I wanted to say slammed against the ball in my throat, keeping me mute.
His cool hand landed on my cheek, smelling metallic from the chain. “We promised a while ago that we’d forgive each other anything. Will you do that for me? Will you forgive me for hurting the one girl who I love more than anyone?”
I almost fell off my swing; it was only my death grip that kept me upright. Love. He loved me. Like a sister? A friend? An annoying little tagalong?
My voice cracked as I whispered, “What do you want from me?” The question was strangely wise and older than my thirteen years. But I knew exactly what I was asking and I knew exactly what I wanted.
His face came close, his nose skimming mine. It was the closest we’d ever been to kissing. Tickling and planting kisses on each other’s laughing faces when we were younger didn’t count. This… It was different. Completely different. Wild and naughty and grown-up.
“Everything, Cleo. I want everything from you.”
The slowing of the motorbike and quietening of the rumbling engine tore my mind from the past. Arthur’s powerful bulk rested in my arms and I squeezed him as hard as I’d squeezed the swing chain.
I couldn’t breathe as emotion tsunamied over me, drowning me in love for this complicated man. I loved him the moment he carried me home after falling off my bike. The stars made me for him. I was his and it killed me to think I’d forgotten it.
Forgotten him. This place. Our past.
Everything.
I’d walked away and forgotten the most important piece of my life. How had I survived without him? How had I found comfort with a boy with brown eyes that I still couldn’t remember? It didn’t make sense that my brain had shut off someone so important.
“I’m so sorry, Art. For leaving you.”
Tears trickled down my cheeks as I hugged him harder. My arms ached, my heart burst, but I couldn’t get close enough.
His arms landed over mine, squeezing back. Letting me go, he yanked his helmet off and spun to face me. “You remembered?”
“Our first kiss?”
“What I said to you that night.”
I nodded, my eyes dropping to his mouth. “You said you wanted everything from me.”
“And did you give me everything?”
I said softly, “There was nothing to give. You owned it all already.”
His lips smashed against mine, his tongue spearing into my mouth, transporting me back to our very first kiss.
His lips were warm and tasted of blueberry bubblegum.
The moment his mouth met mine, I knew.
I knew why I’d been born and what my future had mapped for me.
I would marry him.
I would be by his side until death did us part.
His hands went to my face, holding me in place as the strangest sensation of his wet, delicious tongue coaxed my lips to open.
They did.
And I shuddered in his arms.
There was nothing awkward about our kiss. Nothing experimental or uncertain. We knew each other so well, we’d mastered our souls—it was only fitting we mastered our first kiss, too.
Art pulled away, breathing hard. “Are you remembering more? Being here?”
I frowned. “I remember that evening vividly. I remember the seesaw and the tree across the park where you pushed me up against and kissed me harder than you’d ever kissed me before. But I don’t remember how we got there, where we were going, or where I lived.” I shook my head, my fingers tapping my temple. “It’s all there, just… filed in the wrong places.”
His eyes darkened. “I hope the next place I show you will bring back everything. If it doesn’t, then I don’t really know what will.” Giving me a nervous smile, he added, “Don’t worry. Regardless of old memories, we’re together now and I plan on making a lifetime of new ones.”