Page 26 of P.S. I'm Still Yours
My answer is a no-brainer. “Could you sing ‘Iris’ again?”
This is the first song I ever heard him sing, and months later, I’m still not over it.
He answers with a small nod.
Then I press Record.
Please let this be real.
And it is.
It’s as real as it gets.
The way he plays the chords so effortlessly. The shy little glances he casts in my direction as he starts to sing for me.
I proceed to stare at him with my mouth agape for the next five minutes.
This boy is going to change the world one day.
I know because he’s already changed mine.
My entire body yearns for more when the last note sounds through the air.
I end the recording, and just like that, it’s over.
I must sound like a broken record at this point, but I have no idea how else to describe the masterpiece I just heard. “That was… unbelievable.”
He doesn’t thank me, but he also doesn’t reject the compliment, which I take as a good sign.
Kane glances down at the guitar on his lap and flips it over in order to study the details of the body. He seems as fascinated by the guitar’s anatomy as I am by him.
“Wow,” he says like it’s just dawning on him that the guitar belongs to him. “If there’s anything else I can do for you, just say the word. I mean it.”
I didn’t get him a guitar so he would do something for me. I did it because he’s talented.
So then… why do I feel compelled to ask him for another favor?
I clear my throat. “Actually, there might be something…”
“Name it.” He seems sincere.
“I was wondering if you…”
Deep breaths.
“If I what?” he presses.
“If you could be my first kiss.”
I figured one of two things would happen after I asked him. One, he’d call me crazy and tell me to forget it. Or two, he’d get mad at me for even suggesting that he break the bro code.
I wish someone had prepared me for option three.
The awkward silence option.
Kane raises an eyebrow, studying me for a long moment before saying, “Why?”
He’s not shocked or pissed that I’d make a request like that. If anything, he seems intrigued.