Last Kiss by Laurelin Paige Read Free Book Online Page B

twin at your mom’s house?” Her eyes twinkled with the memory. It was infectious. “We used to stay up half the night talking.”
    “You need rest, not talking,” Jeb scolded.
    She peered at him over her shoulder. “I won’t be able to keep my eyes open for longer than ten minutes, so quit your worrying. When did you turn all prison guard, anyway?”
    “Maybe when you started acting like someone who needed to be kept in line.”
    “Fair enough.” Her expression was somber when she turned back toward me, and I wondered if Jeb’s comment had her thinking the same things I was. About how Reeve had “kept” her before. I didn’t think Jeb had known about that, so his comment was made innocently, but it had to hit home with Amber. Did she regret that she’d ever got involved with a man who wanted to guard her? Or did she regret that she’d ever left him?
    Whatever her regrets were or weren’t, I didn’t like seeing the pain that was now etched in her features. I preferred the glow she’d had when talking about the past.
    “You used to spoon me,” I said, attempting to rekindle that glow. She’d been the first person I’d ever slept in the same bed with. I could still recall the warmth of her body next to mine, how it made me feel safe and protected and cared for in ways I’d never been. In so many ways, she’d been my first love, and, while I’d never been attracted to her sexually, I’d been attracted to everything else about her. Especially to the way she’d made me feel about myself.
    “I did spoon you. You hated that.”
    “I did not. I liked it.”
    She shrugged her shoulder as though she knew full well that I’d liked it and had just wanted to hear me say it. “You liked it until I’d throw my leg over you, and then you’d bitch about feeling crowded, and somehow you’d always end up on the floor.”
    Actually, I’d liked it when she’d done that too. Liked how it had made me feel owned. I’d only ever moved out of the bed for her – because she was a restless sleeper, and I’d always ended up feeling like I was in her way.
    Those weren’t things I needed to admit though. Not now. “So, I’ll take the couch.”
    She laughed. “When I’m better though,” she said, her expression suddenly serious, “I’d really like to talk to you. When I’m sure I won’t fall asleep halfway through the conversation.”
    “I’d really like that too.”
    I slept fitfully on the love seat, and when Brent came to relieve me at a quarter to four, I didn’t feel the least bit ready for bed. My head was too buzzed and my emotions too tangled. For several minutes, I stood outside of Reeve’s closed door, wishing I had the courage to knock or just go in.
    But I didn’t.
    Instead, I grabbed slippers and a blanket from my room, then tiptoed downstairs and out to the front porch.
    It was warm for Wyoming in April, or so I’d been told, meaning that the crisp early morning temperature hovered around forty. Wrapping the blanket around me, I took in a deep breath of air and let it out with a sigh. Why did I feel so miserable? Amber was alive. And I was with her again. It was what I wanted, why I’d started down this whole path.
    I leaned against the railing and stared up at the stars. If only my head could be as clear as that night sky.
    “She used to talk about you.”
    I straightened at the sound of Reeve’s voice behind me, knowing immediately the “she” he referred to. I didn’t turn around, too scared that he’d stop talking when I so badly wanted him to say more.
    He went on. “Bragged about you, actually. When she saw your picture in the magazines she’d beam with pride. ‘That’s my friend, Emily,’ she’d say. ‘I always knew she’d be a star.’”
    She’d talked about me.
 
    All the time I’d assumed she’d moved on with her life, never thinking about me at all.
    I pivoted slowly toward his voice and found him sitting in the shadows on the porch swing. He brought a beer