Page 35 of Love Me

“You are,” he retorts. “You somehow think you’re justified in believing that you’ve taken too much from the people in your life.”

He holds up a hand when I open my mouth to say that’s not the truth.

“You know it and so do I. Do us both a favor and don’t lie to me.”

I clamp my mouth shut, hating and loving how well he knows me.

“Do you know why I keep my hair this length?”

I squint at the sudden change in subject but shake my head. “You like it,” I reply, not understanding what this has to do with anything.

“Becauseyoulike my hair long. During our junior year, the first time I ever let my hair get longer than an inch, you commented that you like it long. That was around the time you developed the habit of playing in it. Since then …” He trails off.

I’m speechless because I never put two and two together.

“That was years ago.”

He nods. “And I’ve kept my hair the way that you like ever since. Just like I put away money to fund your dream. And just like the other night in your apartment felt like I took my first deep breath in fucking years,” he confesses.

I inhale sharply because he’s talking about those kisses we shared. I knew we couldn’t avoid talking about them, but I didn’t know how to approach it. He, obviously, doesn’t have that same problem.

“You’ve always been more than my best friend, Monique.”

“What have I been?” I ask, needing to hear his answer.

“Mine. You’ve always been mine.”

He punctuates his declaration with a soul binding kiss.

This kiss is nothing like the soft brushes of his lips we shared in my apartment.

What Diego and I are sharing right now is his claim of me. It can’t be called anything less than that. And I don’t attempt to resist. His lips on mine feel too right.

I can’t think straight. All I can do is surrender to the embrace.

Unsurprisingly, what I discover is that I could kiss my best friend for a long, long time and never get tired of it.

A tiny moan escapes my lips, and Diego pulls me flush against his body, deepening the kiss.

All space and time evaporate.

Too soon, Diego pulls back.

“Dangerous,” I murmur while staring at his lips.

“Never to you,” he declares while running hand down my cheek.

Our eyes lock, and his burrow into mine as if he’s asking me to believe him. I don’t have the faintest idea why. I know he would never do anything to harm me.

I didn’t mean that type of dangerous.

Instead of saying that out loud, however, I say, “I don’t remember our first kiss being anything like that.”

It’s meant as a joke. Our first kiss was with one another in our spot when we were eleven. We did out of curiosity after watching that 90’s movieMy Girl.

It felt weird and awkward at eleven, and we barely spoke about it afterward.

This kiss was nothing like that.