Kiss and Don’t Tell

“Aren’t you having a dinner date with Pacey tonight on FaceTime?” Max asks.

“Yeah, why?”

“Uh, don’t you think you should at least put on a shirt that doesn’t have a hole in the collar?”

My fingers graze my old shirt from middle school. “Do you think I need to?”

“Uh, yes. Standards, woman. Weren’t you the one telling me how much you miss him this morning? How you wish you could see him? Well, not saying you need to make an effort with makeup, but a little class with the outfit couldn’t hurt.”

I chuckle. “If he truly likes me, then he won’t mind this outfit.” I bite the corner of my lip and say, “I told him I missed him last night.”

“What?” Max sits up. “You did?”

I nod. “It just came out. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I really miss him. I want to be with him but I don’t know how to cross the bridge. How to tell him that.”

“Uh . . . you just tell him. Trust me, I think the boy would do a backflip on the spot if he knew you wanted to get back together. He’s infatuated with you.”

“Did he say that to you?”

“Yup,” Max says. He picks up his phone and scrolls through it. “We’ve been chatting, you know. We’re friends now. He’s head over heels for you.”

“Then . . . why hasn’t he said that?”

Max shakes his head. “I love you, but you can be so oblivious.”

“What do you mean?”

“What was one of your biggest fears when it came to Pacey?” When I don’t answer, he says, “That it all happened so fast. Therefore, he knew to take his time. Let you adjust to talking to him, to your feelings. It’s why he slowly started talking to you, taking it one step at a time. He didn’t want to scare you. Looks as though it worked, because you’re now craving him.”

Stunned, I think back to how we started talking. Short, quick text conversations. They weren’t in-depth, but they did show me he was still around, that he wasn’t going anywhere. And then they grew into full conversations. Those text conversations grew into phone calls, which then turned into FaceTime dates every night.

“You’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” he says. “Trust me, it’s pained him. All he’s wanted to do is see you, be with you, but as he told me, he didn’t want to screw it up this time.”

“I don’t think he could screw it up.”

“You can, though,” Max says, his face still buried in his phone.

“How?”

He glances up at me. “Josh.”

“What about him?” I ask.

“Uh, isn’t that a loose end? I thought he was all about seeing you again.”

I shake my head. “He texted me about two weeks ago, asking if he could see me again, and I shut him down. Told him I appreciated his apology and that I would cherish the good times we had, but that . . .” I swallow hard and stare at my nervous, shaking hands. “I told him I was in love with someone else.”

Max’s lips stretch up and curl in a satisfied, Grinch-like grin. “About time you admitted it.” He goes back to his phone and waves at my shirt. “Go change. I refuse to let you have a FaceTime date in that thing.”

He’s probably right. It’s a comfortable shirt, but let’s ease Pacey into my holey clothes. I spin on my heel and head up the stairs to my bedroom, just as I remember about our food. “I put money on the counter for dinner,” I call down. “Don’t forget to tip.”

“I forgot once, so sue me.”

“And then we had to hear Katherine bitch and moan about how that delivery person would come back and murder us.”

“True,” Katherine says from her bedroom.

I reach my room and open my closet. I riffle through my clothes. I really don’t feel like dressing up. Pacey is always dressed casually on our calls. Yes, his shirts cling to his chest like paint, but he’s not wearing holey shirts.

The doorbell rings just as I reach for an emerald-green shirt.

“I got it,” Max shouts.

I switch out of my holey shirt and put on the emerald-green, and then turn to my mirror on the back of my closet door to take in my reflection. I’m wearing sweatpants, but like every other Zoom call or FaceTime, the person on the other end of the call only sees waist up, so this will have to do. My hair is in a messy bun and I wonder if I should’ve done something with it today. Pacey has always liked braids.

But he’s calling in five minutes and I don’t really have any time to fix it, so instead, I fluff some of my hair out and call it a day.

He’s seen me worse than this. Max is just getting in my head.

Content with how I look, I head for the door so I can run downstairs and grab my food. Then I’ll have just enough time to make it back up here for our date. I swing open the door and almost run face-first into a bouquet of beautiful purple flowers.

The bouquet lowers, and Pacey’s handsome face comes into view.

My jaw drops, and my hand covers my mouth. “Pacey,” I whisper.

“Hey, baby,” he says and then holds the bouquet out to me. “I owe you some flowers, since the last ones I bought you I threw against a wall.”

I let out a nervous chuckle as my shaky hands take the bouquet. “Th-thank you.” I sniff them and then look back at him. Those glacial eyes sear me, his smile destroys me, and I itch to hold him, to have him hold me. “You’re . . . here. In my house.”

“I am.” He sticks his hands in his jean pockets and says, “I hope that’s okay.” There’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice, and I want nothing more than to wash away that vulnerability.

Taking a leap of faith, I step toward him and curl against his chest, my arm snaking around his waist. Automatically, his arms wrap around me, and he kisses the top of my head.

“Hey, you,” he says quietly, and that sweet greeting destroys me. My eyes well with tears and I press myself into his embrace, listening to the rhythm of his heart, soaking in this moment.

He’s here.

He’s mine.

He’s everything I need.

“I missed you,” I say as a tear moves down my cheek. I don’t bother wiping it away because I don’t want to let go of him.

“I missed you, babe.” He kisses the top of my head again.

I look up at him and I smile. “I’m sorry, Pacey. I’m sorry for everything.”

His finger goes to my lips. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

I shake my head. “I should’ve told you about Josh. I was nervous. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I want you to know, he texted me two weeks ago and I told him that whatever we had was over because . . .” I swallow and look away.

“Because why?” Pacey asks, his fingers forcing my chin up so he can look me in the eyes.

I set the flowers on my bed and then take his hands in mine. “Because I quickly realized, once you were no longer in my life, that I was missing this huge puzzle piece that had made me feel whole again for the first time since my mom died, and that was you.” My eyes stay locked on his as I say, “I told him I was in love with someone else.”

I watch as Pacey’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down. His hand reaches up and grips my cheek. “I love you so fucking much, Winnie. I want to kiss you every goddamn minute of every day. I want to be able to hold your hand whenever I fucking want. I want to be able to hear your laugh in person, hold you at night, be the man you deserve.”

“You are,” I say. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and so much more. I love you, Pacey, and I don’t want there to be distance between us anymore.”

He sighs and lowers his forehead until it presses against mine. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I love you, Winnie. I want to make this work. I have to make this work. And I swear, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re happy and that you never have to deal with a broken heart ever again.”

More tears stream down my face. “I believe that you will.” I tilt his head up just enough so that my lips meet his. His grip slides against the back of my head and intensifies as I smooth my hand up his chest.

He backs me up until I reach my bed and then, making sure he doesn’t crush my flowers, he lays me back and crawls over top of me, propping his body up with one hand as he stares down at me.

“You’re mine, Winnie.”

I rub my thumb over his cheek. “I’m yours.”

Then his mouth descends on mine and I get lost in his lips, in his kisses, in the way he so commands me. Loves me.

I was searching for adventure, for justice when I took Minnie on a road trip, and I came back with the love of my life. There’s no doubt in my mind that my mom was on that road trip as well, directing me, pushing me, pointing an arrow at where I needed to go. Because if anything, she believed in love, and more than anything, that’s all she wanted for me.

To love.