Talan

When we first arrived at the party, Amalia allowed me to hold her hand, and the sensation of our palms and fingers grasping one another again felt incredible, even if it only lasted a short time. She needed to feel safe because she was outside her comfort zone initially, so I won't read more than that into the situation; I just want to enjoy every second with her while I can.

Her coming to the bonfire with me was a miracle enough because I was damn near positive that she hated me. Just a few days before Jaxon left for his football camp, Amalia gave me that impression loud and clear.

Jaxon and I were at the table, munching Tabasco-doused Doritos and discussing the upcoming boxing match our team is hosting in La Push. Old Marv's decision to schedule the event for the same weekend as Jaxon's football camp disappointed him because, although Jaxon loves boxing, football is his passion. Whenever there's a conflict between the two, football always wins.

"It sucks I have to miss it," he had said as Amalia strolled into the kitchen for a glass of water. "Ama will take my place and cheer for you, won't you, Ama?"

She peered over her shoulder and gave him a wicked, dirty look. She said nothing, but her expression shouted the words. "Shut up, Jaxon! I hate Talan."

I laughed. It was the easiest way to cover the uncomfortable feelings racing through me. She took it for teasing, banged the kitchen cupboard shut, and stomped out of the room.

In front of Jaxon, I'd shrugged it off. What else could I do? But in reality, she made me feel like shit, and I decided it was time to call it a day and give up.

Kade's friend method appeared a hell of a lot better to me at that point. I raged with envy whenever I watched him and Amalia waltz out the door together, all comfy-cozy, or heard them laughing at some hush-hush, between-the-two-of-them joke as they sat in Amalia's private hideaway in the corner behind her house.

I'd never pegged myself as a guy with a glutton for punishment, but after she turned me down when I first came home, I spent more time than ever at her house. No matter how much she ignored me or how much it hurt. I still can't figure out how I managed another go. She's with me, though, sitting beside me in the tepid, moist grass, appearing happy. Our interactions are quiet, and she's acting shy, but it's better than I expected from the day, and I feel good about it. I'm a little edgy myself but more enthusiastic for the simple opportunity to—if nothing else—repair whatever damage I'd done to our friendship.

Deep down, I want much more. Deep down, I'm hoping, wishing, praying, and practically begging the universe to let this spur-of-the-moment alone time end beyond friendship.

As the calm, cool air blows around us, she shivers. Looking back at the sultry, orange glimmer of the cheery fire, I see just how far away from it we hiked. Everyone was making strange faces at us when we first arrived; I was afraid Amalia would make me take her home. I assumed it was because she'd never been here, which is true, except that some girls were staring at her because of me.

I thought it best to walk away before someone drank enough to come up and say something nobody wanted to hear. I'm finally with Amalia, and I'm determined not to let anything, or anyone, screw it up. But, by the same token, I'm not about to let Amalia freeze. So, I ask her in my way if I can put my arm around her. She eyeballs me, and I can't read her expression; it's implying she's delighted or offended. I hold my breath and wait for the correct conclusion.

A mixture of relief and joy cascades through me like a waterfall as a hint of excitement lifts her features. I place my arm around her, trying to control my enthusiasm, hyperaware of her slight figure pressing up against the side of my chest and her soft, chilled skin beneath my arm and my fingertips. Her gaze travels from my chest to my mouth, and I can't resist my pent-up desire any longer. Thoughts of her lips on mine had consumed me too long to let this golden opportunity pass. I guide her face toward mine, minutely acknowledging that she lets me lift her chin before I place my mouth over hers and roll with it, relishing the sweet taste of the coconut-flavored lip balm she's wearing as her arm tightens around me and her hand clutches onto my shirt. Whoa! My heart is beating in overdrive, and I hope she can't sense it knocking against my chest.

I gradually release my lips from hers to gauge her response and see the look in her eyes. The words "I love you" aren't quite on the tip of my tongue, but they loop around in my mind.

Her head turns, a warm blush bleeding through her cheeks, as she drops her hand from my back and angles her body out of my arm, tensing as if I misread her willingness. What? My god! This has to be what someone dying from thirst feels like after drinking from a mirage.

As much as I enjoyed her quick, eager response to kissing me, the doubt that she still doesn't want to be with me the way I want to be with her jabs at my self-confidence. Reluctantly, I let my arm slip down from around her and shift with my own uneasiness.

She stares out over the river's lake, blackened by the cloud-covered moon to invisibility, for a little too long without uttering a sound. I'm as tongue-tied by confusion. I focus on her creamy, tanned shoulder, desperate to know what's happening inside her head. Did she feel nothing from our kiss? Or does she wish I was someone else? What am I doing wrong? Furrowing my brows, I lean over to get a better view of her face, which she's now hiding from me, grasping for some insight. "Ama, how come you've been so mad at me all this time?"

She responds in a tone halfway between asking a question and making a contradiction. "Me?" A tress of hair, moved by a gentle breeze, falls onto her neck as she turns towards me, partially obscuring her expression. "You're the one who's been mad at me, Talan." She pushes the wavy tresses behind her ear and looks into my eyes as if searching for her own insight.

"Mad at you? For what?"

"I don't know..." There's a moment of hesitation, and then she says, "The drive, maybe?"

"Nah, you were already mad at me way before that day. Forever, it seems like."

"I wasn't mad at you." She fidgets and clears her throat. "I just wanted us back to normal and didn't want things to be weird with us anymore." She looks away again. "I don't want it to be that way anymore." Her face drifts back toward me, her eyes focusing down and then lifting to meet mine, a severe pleading in them.

After the movie, I retreated from her and apologized for that. I kept a safe distance from her when I came home because I thought it was what she wanted, but I wouldn't call that acting weird. But hell, if this is her only hesitation, I fall into her dark caramel eyes, guide her hair out of the way, and kiss her again, longer than the first.

When our lips separate this time, her unmistakable sigh of pleasure glides over my skin like a caress, giving me goosebumps. I gather my composure and say, "All right, then. No more acting weird around each other."

She replies with a doubtful wilting of her mouth. "Then promise it won't be awkward after tonight."

"Okay. It won't. But you have to promise me you'll quit acting bashful." We had known each other for too many years and too well for that.

She rolls her eyes and sounds pouty, saying, "I'm not acting bashful."

"Uh-huh," I say, in a yeah-right tone.

She chuckles, folding her arms around herself again. I rub her arms a few times before resting mine over hers to keep her warm, hopeful it doesn't get any cooler, because we may have to return to the fire. Either that or back to my car, and I don't want her to assume I'm pushing her into anything she isn't ready for. Her body, snug in my arms, has me feeling all kinds of happiness.

One more intruding question, though, weighs heavy on my mind. "So ... what about Jaxon?"

I leaped past the point of no return, a long time coming, and I might lose my best friend because of it. It's tough to note that I'm not feeling much guilt for not considering his boundary in the slightest before I crossed it. Amalia is too important to me and matters more. If I'd learned anything since last summer, it was how much she truly means to me. She has to live in the same house with him and his angry opposition. I wonder how much influence he'll have over her once he finds out about us.

Amalia leans to the right, turning to see my face, chewing on her lip as we stare at each other. Then she shrugs and says, "He doesn't tell me everything."

But I know we have to tell him if I want to see her again this way, and I do. "We don't have to tell Jaxon if you don't want to, but he's bound to find out."

She doesn't respond immediately, then says, "Not necessarily. He doesn't have to ... if..." She quiets for a second. "Unless we're ... I mean, is this?" She waves her fingertips between the two of us.

I realize what she's getting at. She wants to know whether our being together is more than a one-time deal. "I hope so. What about you? Do you want to go out with me, Ama?"

Her face beams as if she just won the lottery, and I honestly feel the same way. I just asked out the girl of my dreams, and she said yes. Granted, it was a nonverbal nod, but it was still yes.

Strands of her flowy hair blow against the skin of my neck and face as she stretches herself tall, lifting her mouth to meet mine and starting the best kiss of the night so far. "Who's acting bashful?" she asks as she grins.

It's still early, and the night is getting better by the minute. We talk about keeping "us" a secret from everyone until we tell Jaxon first, figuring it best for him to hear it from the two of us together. I also need time to devise a way to break the news to Kade. Breaking the news to him will be more difficult to deal with, given his torch for Amalia and the fact that he's had it for about as long as I had mine.

A deep, hefty voice hollers through the darkness. "Talan!"

Now what?

Amalia stiffens, lifting her brows in concern.

"That's Jace," I say, alarmed by his tone. Jumping to my feet, I reach for Amalia's hands, pull her up, and she and I head toward his voice.

As we approach them, four shadows come into view. The gap closes between them and us, and I notice its five shadows: Gage, Tarran, some girl, Jace, and Kinsley. Jace is hanging onto Kinsley, practically dragging her along with him.

I pick up my pace, lengthening my strides. The closer I get to them, the more I realize Kinsley is drunk...