Page 82 of Your Last First Kiss

What do I want? It’s been so long since anyone’s asked me that question. It takes me longer than it should to verbalize it.

“I don’t want to feel like I’m drowning in guilt and fear anymore.” Admitting that out loud unlocks something in my chest, and my breaths become shallow.

“Then let him in.”

“It’s not easy dating with kids, Miller, you know that.”

He sits down on the sofa, then jolts upright with a curse when cans crunch beneath him.

“You’ve kinda skipped over a lot of the first date stuff, Penny. He’s met your kids. He likes your kids. And most importantly, he’s good with them. You’ve spent years with Mr. Wednesday, now get to know him as Dillon.”

Pulling the strings of the trash bag, I glance around the stale, musty room. “Would you let someone into Izzy’s life so easily?”

“Oh, make no mistake, Penny. There’s nothing easy about this. But he’s here. He’s in it, and it doesn’t appear that he’s leaving anytime soon. But to answer your question?” His face changes like he’s watching a memory only he can see, and a hint of sadness filters through his amber eyes. “Yeah, I would. Life is too short to go it alone. We need love in our lives. It’s what keeps us going.”

“How do I know it won’t end up like this?” I ask, sweeping my hand around Eddy’s home.

“Penny, seriously? You’re not fourteen anymore. You’ve experienced what you don’t want in your life. If any piece of you thought for a second that Dillon could end up like Eddy, you wouldn’t have allowed that little bathroom rendezvous of yours.”

My knees buckle at his words, and he gives an uncomfortable chuckle.

“That good, huh?” Then he holds up his hands. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

But I’m already speaking. “It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced.” He pinches the bridge of his nose but doesn’t stop me. “He just—with his hands. And I had my clothes on. But I, God, Miller, I couldn’t even stand after. And then when I tried to—”

“I’ve got the picture,” he interrupts, then looks to the ground with his hands low on his hips. The slow head shake comes next, and I know he’s contemplating how deep to go in this conversation.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be, you know?” He lifts his gaze but keeps his head bowed, like this really is embarrassing for him. “That fluttering in your belly? The lightning bolts that shoot through you? That’s what shared intimacy does to sex.” The word “sex” gets caught in his throat, and he coughs and then rolls his shoulders. “Damn it, Penny. This is like having a sex talk with your little sister. I’m really freaked the fuck out right now.”

Unexpectedly, my laughter rings throughout the dirty house. And it feels so damned good. “Miller! How are you going to have a sex talk with Izzy if you can’t even talk about it with me?”

“Easy. Izzy isn’t having sex until I’m dead.” His face is set in hard lines. This sweet man believes his own bullshit.

“Well, I’ll make a deal with you, then. When the time comes, you talk to my boys, and I’ll talk to Izzy.”

He wraps me in a brotherly hug while holding his hands away from my body because we’re both covered in grime from poking around in here for so long.

“Deal,” he finally says softly. “We’re family, you and me. We’ll figure it out. I’ve got you, Pen.”

“Got you too,” I whisper, nodding into his chest.

When he steps back, his signature crooked grin is in place. “I have a feeling I’ll make out pretty good in this deal, though.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that? I have three boys. You’ll have to teach them all how to use a condom, but I’ll only have to have that conversation once.”

The sound of a door slamming in the driveway has me spinning around and leaning down to look out the window. Fear that Eddy’s home slams into me until Dillon comes into view, stomping through the snow with a scowl on his face.

Miller leans down next to me. “That is why I think I have the better end of this deal. If you think that man will let anyone but him play daddy, you’ve got another thing coming.”

The door bursts open, and Dillon’s wild hazel eyes cut straight to mine. The air that swirls around my feet is frigid, but my body is on fire.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, looking from me to Miller and back again.

“Getting the girls’ stuff. I can’t afford to replace it all,” I explain as Miller says, “Aster skipped town.”

“It smells like a college bar in here,” Dillon says, closing the door behind him.

His nose scrunches up in disgust, but there’s something else lingering in his eyes. It’s understanding and sympathy. I know a little about his past, but watching emotion cloud his eyes, I know I was lying to myself. I want to know everything about Dillon, not only what you can cover on hour-long coffee dates.