Page 22 of Kellan & Emmett (Gomillion High Reunion #1)

Kellan

I shut the door behind me and leaned back hard against it, like I needed the wood at my spine to keep me upright.

The bedroom was dark except for the lamp on the nightstand, throwing a thin slice of light across the bed.

My chest was still heaving, too fast, too uneven.

My mouth—God, my mouth—still tingled.

Swollen.

I pressed my fingertips to it like maybe I could prove to myself it happened, that it wasn’t some cruel dream my brain cooked up.

But the heat still lingered there, the taste of him ghosting on my lips.

I dragged in a breath that stuttered out shaky.

My pulse hammered at my throat, as wild as it had been when I was seventeen sneaking around in the dark, afraid someone might see.

Afraid someone might know.

And sure as hell, the voice came back.

The one I’d been carrying my whole damn life.

Boys don’t kiss boys, Kellan.

My father’s tone, sharp and cold, slicing through me even now.

I hated it. Hated him. But I couldn’t shake it, not even after decades have passed, not even with Emmett’s hand still burned into my skin.

I shoved away from the door, pacing the small stretch of carpet like I could walk it off.

But it was no use.

Every step just replayed it again—the lean-in, the brush of his breath, the way his mouth fit mine like no time had passed.

The way he whispered, And you’re still Kelly to me, soft and sure, like we’d never lost that piece of us.

I cursed under my breath, pressing the heel of my hand to my chest.

It ached, and not just from want.

You started it.

That’s what my head kept chanting.

You pulled him in.

You crossed the line.

There was no pretending it was all on him, no pretending I could walk it back in the morning. I’d wanted it. Hell, I’d needed it. And for one impossible, blinding moment, I let myself have it.

But wanting didn’t erase the shame clawing at me.

Didn’t erase the picture that still haunted me—the look in her eyes when my ex-wife caught me years ago, laptop open, nothing but raw need on the screen.

That silent judgment, the cold space that opened up between us after.

That was the moment my marriage had ended, even if it took months to fall apart.

And now? Now I’d gone and opened a door I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to walk through.

I stopped pacing, palms braced on the dresser like I needed the solid weight of the wood to ground me.

My head hung low, breath ragged, heart still punching against my ribs like it hadn’t gotten the message that the game was over.

The words scraped up my throat before I could choke them down.

“I wanted to kiss him, wanted him,”

I whispered into the empty room. My voice sounded raw, like it had been waiting years to be said.

“God help me, I can’t fight these feelings.”

The truth hit harder spoken out loud. I pushed a hand flat to my chest, like I could quiet the racing there, but it only beat harder.

I tried lying down, but the sheets felt strange under me, foreign. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw him again—Emmett’s face close, his mouth warm against mine, the way my body tingled with need. Sleep didn’t stand a chance.

Daily To-Do

Restock the coffee

Remind Mrs. Carson about our late checkout policy

Fix the screen door

Pretend my pulse doesn’t trip every time Kellan walks in a room.

Resist wanting to kiss him again… God help me, I already want to.