Page 33 of Falling Like Leaves (Bramble Falls #1)
“Do you remember the day you sat across from me in my bedroom and suggested we be each other’s first kiss?”
“Of course.” I’d felt like I was the only girl in my school who hadn’t been kissed. I’d wanted to be able to go home and not have to lie about it anymore.
“You said you just wanted to see what kissing was like before going to high school, what all the fuss was about. I knew it didn’t mean anything to you.
But I also already knew I’d never feel the same way about any other girl, so that kiss meant everything to me.
” He draws his eyebrows together. “Even after you stopped responding to my texts, I thought if I just waited until you came back the next summer, things would go back to how they were. We’d spend another summer together, and then I’d tell you how I felt and hope like hell you finally felt it too. ”
“But I never came back,” I whisper.
He nods. “Until now. And you’re different, but you’re still the girl I knew in a lot of ways. Too many ways, if I’m being honest.”
I step forward until we’re toe to toe. Slowly, hesitantly, my hand reaches out to trace the details of his face, skimming along his jawline, my thumb sweeping over his cheek where his dimple is hiding.
His eyes stay trained on mine as I press up on my toes, push his hood off, and let my fingers get lost in the hair they’ve been longing to touch.
“I got over you, Ellis,” he says, his voice low.
“Good. I wouldn’t have wanted you to be heartbroken forever,” I tell him.
I lean in until our noses touch, the air between us shared, my heart thrashing like waves in a storm.
Cooper’s breath hitches. “But are you still over me?” I maneuver my lips closer, sliding both hands around his neck as I press my body closer to his.
He lets out a groan and backs away, the sudden loss of his heat leaving me cold, stunned, and baffled. “I’m not going to kiss you.”
“Oh.”
“Not because I don’t want to,” he clarifies. A humorless laugh escapes him. “I’ve wanted to kiss you again ever since the first time.”
“But…?”
“But it’s already going to be hard enough when you leave next month,” he says. His muscles are rigid and resolute, and I’d drop the subject if he said he didn’t like me back. If he weren’t interested. If I were reading his signals all wrong.
But he’s just scared and trying to protect his heart. And I have no plans to break it again.
“We can figure it out.” I take a step toward him, closing the distance between us. “I’m not going to ghost you again.”
In the pink glow of my necklace, Cooper’s conflicted eyes dart between mine.
Finally he cups my cheek in his soft hand.
He leans in slowly, and I close my eyes as he presses his lips to mine.
The kiss is tentative, full of nerves and hesitance.
But when I part my lips in invitation, Cooper groans, turning hungry and insistent, like he’s waited for this moment his whole life.
His fingers slide into my hair, and he walks us backward until I’m pinned between him and a tree.
When my tongue meets his, Cooper’s whole body sinks into mine, all of his solid muscles pressed against my soft curves, leaving both of us breathless—but who needs to breathe when a kiss is this magical?
His fingers trail over the angles of my face, like he’s trying to memorize me the way I’ve already memorized him.
They travel under my coat, then under my sweatshirt, and his cold fingers settle on my waist. A small sound escapes me at the feel of his skin on mine, and I try to pull him closer, as if that’s even possible.
Eventually the kiss turns measured, deliberate, and gentle again. I could die happy here in these woods with this perfect boy.
He pulls away and traces my bottom lip with his thumb.
“That was, um…” He trails off.
“We should do it again sometime,” I say with a laugh.
But Cooper squeezes his eyes closed, looking almost tormented .
“What’s wrong?” I take his hand.
“I shouldn’t have told you all that,” he says. “And I definitely shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“What?”
He shakes his head. “It’s just so hard to be around you and pretend I’m still over you. I’m sorry.”
I knit my brow. “What are you saying, Cooper?”
“I’m saying that this”—he gestures between us—“can’t happen. We can’t happen.”
“No.” My stomach knots. “Why?”
“Besides the fact that I don’t want to hurt my friend?” he says. “I don’t trust you.”
“What?”
“You’re leaving soon, Ellis.” He focuses on the dark, leaf-littered ground. “I don’t believe you won’t move on once you’re gone again. Out of sight, out of mind, just like last time.”
“I would never do that again. I swear,” I tell him, my chest tightening. He’s slipping away. I’m losing him again, right after getting a taste of what things could be like.
Cooper takes a step backward, pulling his hand from mine.
“Can we just… forget this happened?”
There’s no way I can forget this happened. Kissing Cooper will be forever ingrained in my mind. An unshakable core memory I will dream about. It’s the kiss I’ll measure every other one against.
But if he doesn’t want to be with me, what am I supposed to do? I can’t make him want me.
“Please, Ellis,” he rasps.
I pinch my eyebrows together, fighting off the urge to cry and instead letting my hurt fuel my anger. “Fine. Then stop being so damn nice to me.”
“You want me to be mean to you?” he asks, confused.
“I want you to stop bringing me cookies and lattes. I want you to stop saving me when I fall off ladders or taking horseback rides with me. I want you to stop pulling all-nighters just to help me. And I want you to stop making me bacon!”
He tries not to smile, but he can’t suppress it. “No bacon. Noted.”
“I’m serious, Cooper. If you’re saying this isn’t happening, then fine, I’ll respect that. But I want you to stop making me fall for you.”
His smile fades. “Okay. Fair.”
“Okay.” I nod. “Then consider it forgotten.”
He huffs out a breath. My heart is crumbling, and he’s relieved .
I blink back tears as a voice to our left calls for Cooper.
“Sounds like they’ve sent out a search party for us,” he says.
“Yeah. I guess we better get back.”
I brush past him, hoping the memory of his lips on mine somehow gets lost in these dark woods.