Tempted by His Wicked Kiss. Zoey Williams

as a teen was now buzzed to a military crew cut so short it would make someone turn on a heel and run away if he ran into Jack in an alley at night. That was probably the look he was going for, Charlotte figured. Without a hat or skullcap, she wondered how he could walk around with his head so exposed; he had to be freezing.

      He continued to stare at her. Was there a chance that he remembered her? He had absolutely no reason to, but then again, he wouldn’t be staring at her like that if he didn’t.

      She put up a hand tentatively in greeting, urging him to come over. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation of his next move. Would he cross the street and approach her? He fidgeted with his glove for a second, but when he looked up again and saw her still motioning to him, he returned to being immobile, as if he’d been caught red-handed. He looked confusedly to his right and left and something in his eyes—a piercing gray that was as deep as a storm cloud—said Who, me?

      She nodded, giving a small wave of her exposed hand. But something flashed over his face—was it fear?—and he looked as frantic as a trapped animal.

      He shifted his weight from foot to foot as if he were debating something. He doesn’t recognize me, Charlotte thought to herself. Half of her burned with embarrassment at the thought and a part of her wished she’d never made a move. But the other half couldn’t help but feel excited at the idea that he’d come close to her. Not to mention happy that he was alive and safe, knowing full well that the people who typically perpetuated his kind of lifestyle were in jail. Or dead. Maybe he’d turned his life around just like she’d always hoped.

      She waved to him again, but he remained still as a statue. Finally, after a few more agonizing seconds, he took a hesitant step forward, and then another, until he slowly made his way to the crosswalk. She felt a lump rise in her throat.

      When he finally closed the gap between them, she could barely breathe. He was here, actually in the flesh. Though she hadn’t thought about him in a long, long time, her body seemed to remember the sensation of being around him like it was yesterday. Her tongue felt like it was made of lead as she looked him up and down. Luckily, he spoke first.

      “Hi?” he said, the greeting coming out more like a question than a statement. A weird sense of trepidation filled his voice.

      She smiled tightly and gave a small nod, desperately trying to hide her excitement. “Hi.”

      He bent slightly to either side, looking around Charlotte and behind her. It was almost if he were checking if she were really there and not just a mirage.

      Her brow wrinkled. Though he had no reason to remember her, there was something about his expression that made her think she was somehow familiar to him. But chances were that he wasn’t. So why was he staring at her like that?

      She stuck out her hand, hoping he would take it.

      For a second he looked at it as if it were a dangerous cobra about to strike. She felt a little weird, like he was going to leave her hanging, but then he reached out and his hand closed around hers. He gave her hand a few light squeezes like he was testing that it was an actual human hand and not one made of out clay. He glanced down at their joined hands like he was fascinated by them for some reason. His eyes were practically bugging out of his head. Suddenly, his hand traveled up her arm, lightly squeezing her forearm, her bicep, then her shoulder along the way. He seemed frantic, like he’d just discovered human contact. Before she knew it, he had drawn her into a full-on hug.

      She immediately stiffened in his embrace and let out a startled laugh. A million thoughts raced through her head. Why was he hugging her? But then she realized that she didn’t care and drew him in closer.

      She breathed in the scent of him, only to find that there wasn’t one anymore. She expected to smell the tobacco she remembered clinging to the clothes of all the “bad kids” Jack was known to hang out with, the kids her mother warned her to stay away from. And she did, but only because they’d never welcomed her into their circle. She’d longed to be around Jack as much as possible back then, and now here they were, ten years later—out of their neighborhood, embracing on the street. It was so bizarre. Now, when she breathed him in, she didn’t smell anything like what wafted from him when he sometimes walked in front of her in the hallways. Maybe he’d given up smoking. She smiled into his black canvas jacket and he squeezed her. She squeezed him back, her arms draped over his now broader shoulders.

      Suddenly her body became less rigid and melted into the embrace. Her muscles softened as he leaned down, his chin now touching her shoulder, his lips lightly grazing her neck. She felt his warm breath tickle her skin with every exhalation. His hands slid down her shoulder blades before settling on the small of her back. Despite her shawl, she could feel the strength in his hands. She shivered, sucking in a sharp breath. Deep inside, she knew she wasn’t shivering from the cold. In fact, something was stirring inside her, a deep heat she hadn’t felt since the last time she saw him. She’d bet that if they held their embrace any longer, sweat would start to form on her forehead.

      Jack pulled back, breaking the contact. They stood and looked at each other for a moment. He appeared deeply saddened and then suddenly uncomfortable at the outburst. She couldn’t read what was going through his mind. It was awkward.

      “Well, that was weird,” Charlotte admitted, trying to cut the tension.

      Jack laughed sheepishly. “Yeah.”

      “So you remember me, Jack? I know we never really spoke, but...” Charlotte trailed off as she looked down. “It’s um, nice to see you.”

      “You remember me?” Jack looked like he’d just been punched in the stomach. “You remember that night?”

      Charlotte was confused. Was he mistaking her for someone else? “What night?” she asked. “I was...talking about school. We went to school together.”

      Jack hesitated for a moment. “We did?”

      Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. “Yeah. That’s why...I thought you just hugged me. That you recognized me.”

      He seemed flustered, his pupils darting from right to left. “Oh, Charlotte,” he exclaimed like he was having a moment of clarity. “Charlotte Simms, right? I remember you now. Just took me a moment to place you.”

      Something about his tone made her suspect he was lying, but why would he? He said he remembered her from school, and they hadn’t seen each other since then, so he had no reason to lie. He did know her full name, after all.