Kiss & Tell ( Asa and Chiquita)

Chapter 9: Embracing the Unknown

Chiquita's POV

The kiss lingers between us, a soft, gentle connection, as if we're both giving each other space to breathe and figure out what this is. Asa's hands are on my waist, and mine are tangled in her hair, but there's a tenderness to it that I wasn't expecting.

It feels like the world has stopped for just a moment — the noise, the chaos, the fear. It's just the two of us, and in this moment, nothing else matters.

When we finally pull back, our breaths are heavy, our foreheads touching. I can feel the warmth of her skin against mine, the erratic thumping of her heart that matches my own.

Her eyes flutter open, and there's a vulnerability in them that takes me off guard. It's not the ice-cold, perfectly controlled woman I'm used to seeing. It's a real, raw side of her. The part of her she's kept hidden from the world.

"You're not who I thought you were," I whisper, my fingers still grazing the side of her face, tracing the sharp lines of her jaw. I don't know why I say it. Maybe it's just the truth, spilling out when I least expect it.

Asa's gaze flickers with something I can't quite decipher. "What did you think I was?"

I could say something flippant, something to lighten the mood, but instead, I shake my head, my voice softening. "I don't know. I thought... I thought you were untouchable. That nothing would ever shake you."

Her eyes darken slightly, and I can tell she's processing my words. It's like she's trying to decide whether to close up again, retreat back to the person I've known, or to stay in this moment — vulnerable, unguarded, with me.

"I'm not untouchable," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've just spent my life pretending I am."

The admission catches me off guard, more than I care to admit. This is Asa — the woman who commands boardrooms, who's always one step ahead, who never shows weakness. And yet, here she is, standing before me, letting down the walls she's spent so long constructing.

I lean in and kiss her again, slow this time, letting the intensity of the moment wash over us both. We don't need to say anything else. Not yet.

Asa's POV

I'm not sure how we got here, but I'm not about to question it. There's something about Chiquita — something in the way she makes me feel like I don't have to hide who I am, like I don't have to be perfect all the time.

I've always believed that control was the only thing that kept me safe. That if I kept everything in its place, I could keep the chaos at bay. But with Chiquita? She's the chaos. She's the storm that's slowly tearing apart everything I thought I knew about myself.

And I think I'm starting to like it.

When she pulls back, her lips just a breath away from mine, her hands still resting on my shoulders, I can feel the vulnerability in her touch. This isn't some game for her. This isn't a flirtation. This is real.

"Are you afraid of this?" she asks, her voice low, as if she's afraid I'll pull away if she asks the question aloud.

I want to say no. I want to tell her I'm not scared — that I'm a strong, confident woman who's always in control. But I'm not.

"Yes," I say, the word coming out before I can stop it. "I'm afraid of everything this could mean. Of losing control. Of losing myself."

She doesn't pull away. Instead, she steps even closer, her hands sliding down my arms to take my hands in hers. "Asa, you don't have to lose control to have something real with me. You don't have to be perfect. You just have to be you."

The simplicity of her words cuts through the layers of fear I've wrapped myself in for so long. Maybe she's right. Maybe I don't have to keep pretending that I have everything figured out. Maybe it's okay to let go.

For the first time in my life, I realize I'm not just holding on to control — I'm holding on to fear. Fear of what might happen if I let myself feel something more than what I've been taught to.

I breathe in deeply, trying to steady myself, trying to find the courage to trust her. Trust myself.

Chiquita's POV

Her honesty shocks me. Asa's always been so guarded, so composed. I never thought I'd hear her admit fear, let alone be this open with me. It makes me feel a strange mixture of pride and tenderness.

She's giving me something that no one else has ever seen — her true self. The woman beneath all the layers of perfection, beneath the cold façade.

I squeeze her hands gently, my eyes never leaving hers. "You don't have to be perfect for me, Asa. I just need you to be here. To be with me."

Her lips tremble as she looks at me, and for a moment, I think she might pull away. But instead, she steps forward again, her hands rising to cup my face.

"I don't know how to do this," she admits softly. "But I want to try."

My heart skips a beat. "That's all I need, Asa. You're already here."

She doesn't say anything, but the way she looks at me says it all. She's willing to try. To trust. And for someone like Asa, that's everything.

I lean in and kiss her again, this time with more urgency, as if I'm trying to pour all the feelings I've kept hidden into this one moment. And when she responds, when she kisses me back with the same intensity, I know that this — us — is something real.

Asa's POV

The kiss deepens, and I lose myself in it. I don't think about the board meetings or the expectations that come with my name. I don't think about the control I've spent my entire life clinging to. All I think about is Chiquita — the woman who's willing to break down every wall I've built, who's willing to accept me as I am, flaws and all.

I don't know where this will lead, and I don't know how to make sense of all these feelings, but I'm not afraid anymore. For once, I'm not afraid to feel. To be vulnerable. To be myself.

And for the first time in my life, I don't feel alone.

As I pull back, my forehead resting against hers, I whisper, "Maybe we don't need to have all the answers right now."

Chiquita smiles, her fingers lightly tracing my jawline. "Maybe not. But as long as we're together, I think we'll figure it out."

And for the first time, I believe her.

This is the start of something new. Something uncertain, but real. And I'm ready for it. Ready to let go of the fear. Ready to embrace the unknown. With her.

Together.