Even as I'd cherished that memory, part of me had wanted to forget it. That kiss was a false promise. It said that kissing should be like that, and if it wasn't with Ricky, then I was doing it wrong. Worse, it said that if I really ever kissed Gabriel and it wasn't exactly like that, I would forever be disappointed.
Now his fingers were on my chin, and he was tilting my face up, and I knew what was coming, and I was the one panicking.
All that lasted about 2.5 seconds, just long enough for him to tilt my face up and his lips to touch mine, and then it didn't matter, because I forgot why I'd been panicking. I forgot everything. Every last damned thing. Because this...
This was not that kiss. It was better. The last time, I'd known it wasn't quite real, and now it was.
This kiss felt like finding the one thing I'd been unconsciously searching for all my life. With that kiss, I remembered other Matildas, girls and women forever feeling as if they were missing something and never figuring out what it was. That had been me, my gnawing dissatisfaction like a trapped animal ready to chew off a limb. What I'd thought was only discontent with my sheltered life had been a symptom of what I'd been missing--Matilda and Cainsville and the Cwn Annwn and everything that I could not believe hadn't been part of my life until a few months ago. When I kissed Gabriel, the last missing piece fell into place, and all I could think was, Yes, this is it.
He started kissing me with one hand on my chin. And then both hands were on my cheeks and then in my hair, and my arms were around his neck, my body against his, and for once there was no destination in mind. This kiss was not only the first step along the path. It was the destination.
When something thumped beside us, I broke away just enough for Gabriel to murmur, "Hmm?" in a way that sounded like I'd woken him from a deep sleep.
We turned as Lloergan made her way out of the room.
"Good call," I said, and Gabriel smiled.
And that's when, from deep in the house, his phone started to ring.
"Next time you throw it at the wall?" I said. "Harder, please. That was a poor effort."
"I don't hear a thing."
"I would love to go with that, but it's Rose's ring tone. Wait here, and I'll get the message."
I ran up to the office, where he'd been working. Five minutes later, I came back down. When he saw his cell phone in my hand, he tensed.
"No worries," I said. "She was just asking about dinner. I said we'll be fine. And your phone is now off."
I laid it beside mine, and he handed me a glass of champagne. We settled in front of the fire, me resting against his leg, but no closer than that, the old tension strumming between us, the one that said we couldn't just slide back to where we'd been, that it was still too new, too uncertain.
I sipped my champagne and watched the flames. Then I glanced at him and said, "For the record, you're an amazing kisser," and he laughed--a spray-his-mouthful-of-champagne laugh.
"No one's ever told you that?" I said.
"I believe the only time any opinion was given on the matter, it was to inform me that I was wretched at it. Which only gave me the excuse to not do it."
"You just had a bad partner."
His eyes sparkled. "That's the answer, is it?"
"Obviously." I took another sip of my champagne. "Or maybe it was an anomaly."
"No, I'm quite certain everyone I've kissed has had the same opinion."
"I mean it might have been an anomaly with me. I was never very good at science, but I remember a teacher pounding into me the need for a significant sample size before drawing a scientific conclusion."
"Are you asking me to kiss you again?"
"Normally, I'd be fine with taking the initiative, but with you, it seems best to double-check my invitation. Maybe triple-check. Which leaves me doing that thing where I hint for a kiss instead of just trying my luck."
"It seemed like more than a hint."
"I'm no good at subtle."
"Well, as you rightly pointed out, we have a very poor track record with this. I believe the only way to circumvent that is to be clear." He set down his champagne flute. "You do not need to second-guess the invitation, Olivia. It is as open as it is unequivocal. Any advances you make are welcome."
"In that case..." I put down my glass beside his. Then I knelt, leaned over, and gave him a peck on the cheek before starting to rise. "Now, I believe we have work to do and--"