Page 34 of The Mist of Stars
“I was the same way.” My eyes are shut, and I’m smelling her hair like a weirdo. “I thought about asking you, but you already acted like I was a creep, so I figured if you didn’t feel it, it’d make you look at me with even more disgust.”
“I don’t look at you with disgust,” she insists. “I just … I don’t know. I thought you said that thing about me, and I let it eat away at me. With everything going, I’m starting to wonder if it was just another you wandering around that said it.”
“You think a version of me came into our world?”
“Maybe. Either that or you were possessed.” She pauses. “Or you’re lying about not saying it.” She sounds doubtful about the latter.
“I didn’t,” I assure her. When she remains quiet, I decide to throw all caution out into the ice storm brewing just outside the door. If I’m about to freeze to death, I can at least get the truth off my chest. “Why would I say that about you when I think you’re hot?”
Her body goes as rigid as a frozen demon. “Stop.”
“Stop what? Saying the truth?”
“You don’t think I’m hot.”
“Oh, I do. And so do a ton of other guys. Henry included. Though, the poor guy doesn’t realize you don’t feel the same way. I feel kind of bad for him.”
“I … You …” She growls in frustration. “You know what? I think I do like him. A ton. He’s super good-looking, and nice, and?—”
I kiss her. It’s stupid—I know this—but her lips were a sliver of an inch away from mine, and she’s radiating so much warmth that it’s seeping into my bones. When she goes as stiff as an ice sculpture, I immediately regret it and pull back.
Her breath falters from her lips. “Why did you do that?”
“I don’t know.” It’s the best answer I can give.
“Well, thanks for taking my first kiss on the basis ofyou don’t know.” She angles her body away from mine, like she might leave.
Wait—that was her first kiss?
I tighten my grip on her. “You can’t go out there.”
“Wanna bet?” A dare glints dangerously in her voice.
“Gemma,” I start.
“Alex,” she mocks.
“Goddammit, you’re so frustrating,” I growl out. “I kissed you because I’ve wanted to kiss you for years.” And then I kiss her again.
Yep, I’m an idiot …
Or not …
After a fleeting star flicker of a pause, she starts to kiss me back. At first, it’s a tentative kiss, a whisper of a kiss. But when I part her lips with my tongue, she kisses me back with a pounding sort of intensity.
I mold my palm to her cheek and tip her head back to deepen the kiss. I try to be as gentle as possible since this is her first kiss. I wouldn’t have guessed it with how perfect her movements are, the way she matches the movements of my tongue, the way she lies down as I hover over her, kissing her in the light of the room ….
Wait …
What the heck?
Someone clears their throat.
My eyes open at the same time Gemma’s does. Our lips are fused together, but we’re not in the closet. She’s lying on the sofa, and I’m leaning over her with my fingers splayed across her cheek. And the real awesomeness about it all—and yeah, I’m being sarcastic—is that we’re in the living room of her house where Aislin and Laylen are watching this make-out session unfold.
Apparently, during the kiss, we came out of the vision, but I guess we were also acting out what we were doing in real life. I wouldn’t care except I know Gemma, something she proves when she pushes me away.
“What’re you doing?” she stammers as I fall back, landing on the floor.