This Is Us

Chapter 23

I've only kissed one other man in my life.

I've only been with one other man in my life.

Not a lot to compare for most, but if I had to bet my life savings and the ownership of my restaurant, I'd wager that Chris Evans is the best kisser I will ever experience in my life.

Some how, I also think he's probably amazing at other things as well. But we won't be finding out anything like that, any time soon.

  There's a strange sense of lagging time after a first kiss. A strange feeling of not knowing where you're headed, except you can't take it back, there's only forward. But after a first kiss, what do you do? 

  If I was another type of woman I'd be dragging him back to my place, or letting him take me to his hotel. Maybe even fumble around in his rental car on the way to said location. But that's not me, and he's not making a move for that opportunity either.

  We're in the middle of a crowded park, a concert going on just ahead of us and I don't know what to do with myself. If it wasn't a natural instinct to want to sink my hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, I wouldn't have a clue what to do with my hands either.

  This is going to be awkward when he pulls away. 

When I pull away.

Who is going to pull away first?

  Is it going to be a mutual moment where our lips just stop moving and we say, 'alright that's out of the way,' let's move on and be done with it?

  Will there be a moment to take a breath before diving back into one another?

  Or will there be an abrupt stop followed by a 'what the hell was I thinking?'

  Listen to me, I think. I'm in the middle of a beautiful park, wonderful music surrounding me, America's boyfriend attached to my lips, and I can't stop my brain long enough to enjoy it.

  My eyes fly open in a panic as Chris breaks away first. His eyebrow arched up to his hairline. A very strange look to be giving after a first kiss.

  Oh, crap. He hated it.

  Of course he hated it, AnnaBelle. You've admitted to yourself that he's only the second guy you've ever kissed. If he had that knowledge chances are your count would still be sitting at one.

  I open my mouth to begin my panic ridden monologue of explanations as to why my half of the experience caused his half of the experience to suck. I plan to follow it up with how we can forget it ever happened and I can go down in his little black book under worst kiss ever and the bottom of his booty call barrel.

  But a word never comes out as Chris' finger first taps the bottom of my chin, closing my lips before he's pressing the same finger against my mouth. "What did I say, Belle?"

  I look on, puzzled while studying how blue his eyes are, the tiny fleck of green dancing among the iris.  I try to think about what he said, but in the midst of the best set of lips placed against mine, all knowledge of anything other than Walker and my panic has simply flown away on the wind.

  I relent, shrugging my shoulders and letting them fall, sagging as I feel defeated. "I asked that you let me give your mind rest. And I'm almost positive that I could feel the frenzy of your thoughts pouring out of your lips," he informs me.

  "Oh, that," I mutter, his finger dropping from my mouth.

  "Yeah, that," he chuckles lightly.

I go to speak again, apologize or something, whatever could possibly come out I'm unsure of, but instead he reaches down, grabs my hand and twirls me towards him.  My back lands softly against his chest as his hand releases mine to settle over my hip bone. "How about we practice just being close with one another?"