Across the Vanishing Sky (Starlight Grove, #1)(74)

Gripping Dex’s hand, I stood.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his brows pulling together.

“We’re living.” I tugged Dex to his feet and pulled out my phone, hitting my music app and letting the soft instrumentals fill the air around us.

Dex’s mouth pursed. “Not much of a dancer, Hellion.”

I tugged him toward me. “Then I’ll lead.”

My arms looped around his neck, and I started to sway. Dex frowned, but his arms finally came around me, his hands resting low on my back. “Why do I feel like I’m at a fifth-grade dance right now?” he grumbled.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Live a little, Buttercup. We’ve got stars and music, and we’re alive.”

The last was the greatest gift of all.

Dex pulled me closer. Everything about him had a slightly deceptive air—not in a bad way, a surprising one. Like how that tall body was finely honed muscle beneath humorous hacker shirts and tortoiseshell glasses. How beneath that sometimes scowly mask was a depth of emotion. But most of all, how every contact lit a buzz in me I’d never experienced before.

His thumb swept back and forth over the cotton of my sundress. I swore I could feel the texture of his fingertips, the swirls of calluses and life.

Then he shocked me with that same deceptive nature, grabbing my arm and spinning me out, then back again. I hit his chest with a certain power, the kind that had the air leaving my lungs and my gaze snapping up to his face. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Dex’s mouth twisted into a beautiful grin full of mischief. “You said we should live.”

“We should.” My heart hammered, giving me away as it beat against his chest.

His gaze dropped to my mouth, stilling there as if he were memorizing every line and curve. And I swore I could taste him, even now, as his face hovered above mine. Mint and a bite of something. Chocolate from dessert, maybe?

I leaned harder against him, tempting fate, ignoring every warning sign. Because I wanted to know that potent combination. Wanted to burn everything about Dex into all my senses.

He lifted a hand between us, his thumb tracing my bottom lip and then skating over my cheek to the column of my neck, stopping on my pulse point. “Feel that life here. Like butterfly wings. Wonder if that butterfly would take flight if I kissed you.”

My lips parted as I sucked in a breath, and I knew my pulse gave away my answer.

“You want me to kiss you, Hellion? Want me to drown in your taste? You want to live?”

I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I lived. I pushed up on my tiptoes, closing the distance between us. The moment my mouth connected with Dex’s, he lost any questions and took.

His hand stayed at my throat while the other sank into my hair. His fingers fisted, asking me to open for him, to give more. I did. And I’d been right about the mint and chocolate. But there was also something more.

Dex’s tongue stroked in, and as cedar and sandalwood swirled around me, I swore I could taste them, too, in the best ways. It was as if everything about Dex was bleeding into me.

I stretched up, pressing myself harder against him, searching for more. That buzz was back. Stronger than before. Dex Archer was the most potent kind of drug, and after one kiss, I knew I’d be addicted.

And then the latch of the door sounded.

Dex moved so fast he resembled one of the heroes in Owen’s favorite cartoons, shoving me back and stepping between me and the noise.

“Moooom,” Owen muttered sleepily through the dark. “Yeti puked, and it made me puke, too.”

Like a bucket of ice water, his words crashed over me as Dex’s stance changed. A different sort of tension slid through him. I braced for him to run. To text me later and tell me the kiss was a mistake. Instead, he surprised me.

“Good thing you’ve got me,” Dex said, stepping forward to ruffle Owen’s hair as Yeti wandered out the back door. She looked completely unconcerned about the pukefest she’d instigated, which I was sure was courtesy of the extra three treats I’d caught Owen feeding her.

“I am an excellent puke cleaner-upper,” Dex continued. “One time, Mav had the stomach flu so bad I swear I could catch it on the fly.”

“Gross,” Owen muttered. “But awesome.”

Dex laughed, his gaze finding me. “I’ll handle cleanup. You get the kiddo.”

I struggled to get my mouth to obey because it suddenly wasn’t just me. I didn’t have to balance getting ginger ale and Pepto into Owen while attempting to clean the mess at the same time. I had help. That panic was back, but I shoved it down.

“Ginger ale for the puke king?” I asked.

Owen sent me a wan smile. “Just none of the pink stuff.”

I chuckled. “Let’s take it a little at a time.”

And I told myself to do the same thing.





30





BRAEDYN





The buzz and whir of the coffee machine cut through the morning sounds of the rest of the house: Owen getting ready for camp, Yeti following behind as he ran between rooms in a nonsensical pattern.

Both seemed perfectly fine after their barf-a-palooza last night. But I was not.

I wasn’t fine because I’d kissed Dex Archer. I wasn’t fine because I wanted to kiss him again, even though I knew it was the worst idea known to man. I wasn’t fine because Dex had kept his distance from me while helping me clean up the mess and get Owen back to bed.