Bend Me, Break Me (13 page)

Class started, effectively ending our conversation, but I didn’t miss how he scooted closer to me, until our shoulders were touching.

“Hey,” he said softly so that only I could hear. I turned my head a fraction and found him staring at me.

“I had a really good time last night,” he whispered and his mouth was so close that his words stirred some of my hair.

“Me too,” I whispered back and that made him smile again. He seemed so easy, so casual about all of this. I felt anything but. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding and all my concentration centered on where his shoulder touched mine. How was it that something so simple could affect me so much? It didn’t make any sense.

I tried to take notes, but failed. I was too busy watching him.

After what felt like an eternity, class ended and he shoved everything back in his bag.

“You wanna skip the rest of the day and come somewhere with me?”

I didn’t really want to skip class, but if he’d asked me to go to the moon, I probably would have said yes.

“Sure,” I said and he looked like I’d just handed him the stars.

No one had ever looked at me like that before. It thrilled me and scared me in equal parts.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he led me toward the parking lot where his car was parked. He’d suggested we go off-campus and I had to admit that it was a good idea. I didn’t want to go to either of our rooms. Too much temptation and potential for things to happen.

“It’s a secret,” he said with a sly smile. His car definitely wasn’t as nice as mine, but at least it was clean.

“I’m not a fan of secrets,” I said. I meant it as a joke, but the grin dropped and he looked… not happy.

“I can understand that. I’m not sure anyone really likes them, except when they’re things like presents or vacations or marriage proposals.” Something swirled in his green eyes. Something dark and stormy that I didn’t understand.

I thought about asking, but I didn’t think he’d tell me, so I stayed silent.

“You can turn on the radio if you want,” he said, trying to shift my attention away. I reached out and hit the button for the radio and was blasted with classic rock at a high volume.

“Damn, sorry,” Coen said, turning the volume down to a non-earsplitting level. “Change it to whatever you want.”

I flipped around until I found the alternative rock station. They were playing “Like Real People Do” by Hozier and I settled back into my seat, closing my eyes to listen to his voice.

“Do you like him?” Coen asked, and I opened my eyes.

“His voice is something else. He’s so talented,” I said.

“I think so too.” I’d expected him maybe to balk at the music choice, but he hummed along, so he must have heard this song a time or two.

The only sound in the car for the next twenty minutes was the radio. I wanted to ask again where we were going, but Coen seemed to know since he kept making turns and taking exits. We were heading north, but other than that, it was a mystery.

“Are you hungry? We’re almost there, but I thought you might want to eat first.” Eat first? I was so confused.

“Um, yeah. I still have no idea where we’re going.”

“You’ll see.”

I finally got it when I started to see the signs for Acadia National Park. We had to be headed to Bar Harbor. I’d never been there, despite living in Maine my whole life. I was relieved that the place wasn’t tied to any memories. No chance for me to have a freak-out on him and then have to explain why, or come up with some sort of story.

“Why don’t you do a search on your phone and find out if there are any vegan places. The last time I was here we went to a hot dog place, so I don’t think that’s going to work.” Probably not.

I was surprised to find a whole list of options and picked a café based on their menu online.

Bar Harbor could be described with one word: Charming. It was the quintessential Maine town by the sea that looked like a picture postcard from every angle. Even though summer was over, there were still plenty of tourists around and some early leaf peepers. Maine hibernated in the winter, but from May to November there were plenty of people from out of town.

Coen had to drive around a few times to find a parking spot close to the café, but he finally did and came around to open my door for me.

“Thank you,” I said and realized that this felt alarmingly like a date. A real date. Not just friends skipping class together.

I started walking quickly and he trailed after me.

“What’s wrong?” I wasn’t good at hiding my emotions with him. I really needed to work on that.

“Nothing. Just hungry,” I said, putting what I hoped was a cute smile on my face.

He searched my face, but must have bought what I was selling because he answered, “Me too.”

The café was cool and trendy, with art on the dark red walls and café tables. There was also a bar in the back.

I ordered the vegan Shepard’s Pie and even though they had non-vegan items on the menu, Coen got the same.

“You know I’m not going to stop talking to you if you order something non-vegan,” I said, but he shook his head.

“I like vegan stuff now. It’s healthier, so I figure that’s a good thing. You make my life better.” It was a throwaway comment, but it didn’t feel like that to me. I still wanted to ask him if he thought this was a date. To any outsider, it would appear that way.

He changed the subject and we talked about other things until we finished and then had cake for dessert.

“So this wasn’t our true destination. So where are we going?” I asked, even though I was sure I knew. Coen paid, despite my protests and then we walked back to the car.

“You’ll see, you impatient thing,” he said with a laugh as we headed out of town.

“Wow,” I said, which was an inadequate word, but I couldn’t pull out another one that fit better.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Coen said, standing next to me at the top of Cadillac mountain. “We should hike up sometime.” We should? I looked at him, but he was too busy looking out at the view below us. The buildings in Bar Harbor were just dots and the trees all blended together in varying shades of green. The ocean stretched out beyond, dotted with islands here and there, as if haphazardly dolloped on top of the blue water.

The wind whipped up and I wished he would have told me to bring something more substantial than my thin fall jacket.

“Here,” he said, shrugging off his own leather jacket and laying it on my shoulders. “Sorry, it’s real leather. I hope that’s okay.”

I tried not to notice how the warmth from the jacket (and thus from his body) seeped into my skin while the smell hovered around me. Without thinking, I turned my head just a bit and sniffed the inside of the collar. Heavenly. I put my arms through the sleeves, even though the cuffs went way past my hands. I liked wearing his coat.

“Hey,” he said, and I was distracted from the deliciousness of his jacket by him holding up his phone so we could take a selfie together. I wasn’t sure about it, but he leaned in with his face next to mine and said, “smile!”

I did and he took a few more for good measure. He showed them to me and I realized how pale I was. Like I hadn’t seen the sun in several hundred years.

“Friends take selfies with each other,” he said, although I hadn’t protested.

“Sure,” I said as he fiddled with his phone. A second later my phone buzzed; he’d sent me some of the pictures. They didn’t look too bad, not that I was going to post them anywhere. My Instagram was for poetry only. My profile picture was a steaming cup of tea. I just didn’t like the idea of tons of pictures of me floating around the Internet for everyone to find.

“It’s crazy how beautiful it is here. Sometimes I just stop and look around and it hits me.” I knew he wasn’t originally from Maine, but he was as vague on his backstory as I was on mine, so I didn’t push for fear that he’d push back.

“Yeah. Even when you live here your whole life you forget how beautiful it can be.” We stood in silence for a while longer. We’d come at an odd time, so there were only a few other people up here and they stayed away from us.

I jumped when his arm wound around my shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said standing far too close.

“For what?” I asked.

“For helping me check off one of my bucket list items. Someday I want to go to all the national parks. This is stop number three.” This was the first national park I’d been to. I wasn’t much of a nature girl. I preferred to be inside with a book more than anything.

His fingers squeezed my shoulder and I could feel it, even through the thick leather.

“You’re welcome,” I said and it sounded like a question.

What I wasn’t prepared for was the kiss he placed on my cheek. It was fleeting, but it made me shiver.

“Still cold?” he said, his face right next to mine.

“No,” I whispered, meeting his eyes.

He took that as a signal and kissed me on the mouth. It had barely been twenty-four hours since the last kiss, but the contact stunned me again. Electricity flooded my veins, tingling from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. How could a kiss embody so much?

Of their own volition, my fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer. I could never get close enough to him. Not even if I climbed into his mouth and threw myself down his throat, like Alice into Neverland.

He smiled while we kissed, as if his lips were laughing at me.

“What?” I asked, pulling away.

“Nothing, Ingrid. Absolutely nothing.” His mouth whispered against mine again, soft as could be.

The wind picked up and whipped our hair around us. His curls and my straight strands mingling together.

Our contact sizzled my skin, branding me. I knew as long as I lived, no matter what I did, I would remember how Coen’s kiss felt.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me kiss you,” he said, pulling away again.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re you.” I didn’t really know what he was talking about.

“What does that mean?” Was it a compliment?

“It means that I can’t believe I’m here with you and I’m so glad that I am. You’re so special, Ingrid.” I stepped away.