"Do you remember that night?" he asked.
He didn't have to spell out the rest of what he was asking. Did I remember that Christmas Eve night under the mistletoe that'd been hung there out of the way? Uh, it was hard to forget your first kiss. Harder still to forget when it was with your best friend.
"The details are a bit fuzzy," I said, lying through my damn teeth. I could tell him the play-by-play, down to what he'd been wearing that night. But that would mean revealing that it'd meant something, which meant giving him power over my emotions, and that was wholly unacceptable.
"Come on, Pita." He gave me a nudge. "It wasn't that unmemorable. I can even tell you what you were wearing."
Okay, so maybe I wasn't the only one who remembered those details. And maybe it didn't actually mean anything at all.
"Really?" I said. "So what was I wearing?"
Dawson leaned back on his hands and kicked his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. "You were wearing a red off-the-shoulder sweater that sparkled like it had silver thread in it. Your hair was up in one of those things you called a French twist, and you were hiding in the alcove during your parents' Christmas party … "
"PAIGE? WHAT ARE you doing hiding back here?" Dawson peeked around the corner at me and then ducked under the hanging garland that led to the small alcove in my parents' informal living room.
My eyes darted around behind him, and I waited for someone else to enter the secret space. "Who says I'm hiding?"
"Oh, come on. Todd's been wandering around for twenty minutes asking where you are." Of course he was. It had been my mother's idea for all the guests to bring along their teenagers to have our own "separate" party, but that meant the guy I'd been dating for a couple of weeks now would want to corner me off somewhere for private time. And the thought of finally kissing a guy had me freaked out to the point of … well, hiding.
"I don't see Hannah attached to your hip either," I said. "Now who's hiding?"
"I was just coming to find you. Everyone's ready to play some games. Spin the bottle, maybe."
That's what I was afraid of.
The look on my face must've given me away, because he took a step forward. "You're not scared, are you?" he asked.
"Scared?" I let out a nervous giggle that sounded too high-pitched to my ears. "Of what?"
"Well, I don't think Todd's looking to kiss your hand all night."
"Oh nooo." I moaned, biting down on my thumbnail.
"What's wrong? You don't want to kiss him?"
"Well … no … yes … I don't know."
"Which is it? He's your boyfriend, so you like him, right?"
I sighed and flopped down onto the reading chair. "I just … Whenever I pictured my first kiss, I thought it'd be different, that's all."
"Different how?" When I shook my head, he said, "You've gotta give me something to work with here."
"I thought he'd be … " You, I wanted to say. But that was crazy, so I settled for, "Maybe I'm nervous that I'll do it wrong."
Dawson let out a laugh. "Seriously?"
"Why are you making fun?"
"I'm not, I swear. But you read all those romance stories and you've made me watch chick flicks every week for the past few years, so it's not like you don't know how it goes."
"But I've never done it before. That's the difference."
"Well … " He seemed to think it over, and then shrugged. "Why don't you practice on me first, then?"
My stomach flipped. "What? No."
"I'm serious. That way when he kisses you, you won't suck."
"Gee, thanks."
"It's a great idea."
"It's a horrible idea. I'm not kissing you." And to cover the way I was way too excited about the prospect of Dawson doing just that, I added, "Ew."
His hand went over his heart as if I'd stabbed him there. "Paige, that hurts. I'll have you know, I'm a great kisser."
"Sure you are."
"Ask anyone."
"Richard Dawson, why would I want to come near you if you've made out with every girl in school?"
He rolled his eyes. "Not every girl in school. Not you."
I couldn't let Dawson kiss me … what if I liked it too much? To say I'd thought about it as we watched those romcoms on the couch would be an understatement-I'd conveniently left that out of my diary, in case anyone were to hack into it again.
But really, though I would give almost anything for Dawson to be the one I had my first kiss with, what if I really was bad at it?
Dawson seemed to notice the indecision on my face, because he reached for my hand and pulled me up off the chair.
"Paige," he said, his eyes watching mine as his hand came up to cup my cheek. "I'm gonna kiss you now."
I knew I should pull away. That what came next shouldn't happen. I had a boyfriend. He had a girlfriend. And Dawson was just my friend. This was wrong.
All of that was nothing but white noise in my ears. Because when Dawson's searching eyes didn't find the hesitation in mine that he was searching for, he leaned in closer, his head angling to the side as my eyes fluttered shut. My heart hammered in my chest so loud that the sound seemed to echo off the walls until it was all I could hear, all I could feel, and then-
His lips touched mine, ever so softly and ever so right. The thundering in my heart gave way to blissful silence as a warmth that I'd never felt before engulfed me. There was nothing shy in the way he kissed me, nothing nervous or indecisive. His mouth moved against mine in a way that said he was fully aware of what he was doing, what this all meant. And when I kissed him back, as natural as anything had ever felt, my lips told him the same.
YEAH, TODD HAD not been able to measure up to that kiss later that night. So thank God he hadn't gotten the distinction of being my first.
Dawson bumped my shoulder and grinned. "I think it's safe to say we've gotten better since then."
"Practice makes perfect."
"Mmm, too true." He mimicked my pose by bringing his legs up to his chest. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Sort of. I mean … I guess I'm a little pissed off," I said, crossing my arms over my knees.
His eyes traveled around the empty space. "I can see why. They didn't waste any time, did they?"
"Not even to say goodbye or to let me, oh, I dunno, take anything I wanted. But, you know … Quinn said something today that I've been thinking about."
"Quinn did? That scares me."
"She said 'fuck my parents.' That it's their loss if they're so quick to cut me out of their lives."
"And blackmail you into staying married."
"That too." I gave him a hint of a smile and fiddled with the hem of my jeans. "I never wanted to turn out like them. Rich, entitled assholes stuck with each other."
"Well, I've raided your medicine cabinets, and I see no signs of prescription pills anywhere, so I'd say you have one up on them already," he said, trying to lighten the mood, and I looked up at him sadly.
"Don't try to tell me I'm overreacting and need to get over it already."
"I would never tell you that. I've seen firsthand the wounds they've inflicted. But maybe Quinn's right. Maybe cutting ties would make you happier."
"It's easy to say that, but if you have nothing that ties you to your past, how do you know you even belong? Sometimes I feel … alone." I tried to shake that thought out of my head. "I mean, obviously I have the girls, and thank God for that. If I didn't-"
"Come with me," Dawson said, saving me from finishing that depressing thought. Then he got to his feet and held his hand out. "And I'll show you where you belong."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Drag You Kicking and Screaming
WALKING INTO DAWSON'S parents' house was such a one-eighty from the dismal, empty space next door. Their decor had always been light and airy: butter-yellow walls contrasted with bold red accessories, and right now there was Christmas music playing on low throughout. My mom's idea of decorating had been shades of neutral and greys, leaving the house in perpetual doom and gloom, and the silence had been deafening. Or, at least, that was the way it had felt to me.
"Paige, what a nice surprise," Gail said, as I rounded the corner into their spacious living room, which was currently scattered with boxes of all sizes on every available surface. There was barely a pathway to walk, but Gail made it work as she crossed the room to give me a big hug. "Excuse the mess, but we wanted to go ahead and knock out the Christmas decorating today while we had Richard here. He's the only one that can manage carrying this stuff down the stairs anymore."
"I could manage it," Charles said gruffly, pouting from where he sat on the couch untangling string lights. "How goes it, Paige?"
"Good, Mr. D. When's that knee replacement?" I asked.
He grunted, and Gail's twinkling laugh filled the room.
"It's next week, and I didn't want him falling and making it worse," she said. "Can I get you something to drink, sweetie?"