Her List of Kisses

Chapter 23 (Part 2)- Kisses and Continuation

My heart speeds up until it is racing and I tingle all over, my stomach flipping inside of me as Will spreads his fingers over the side of my face to hold me tighter. Together we stumble towards the closest building, away from any windows of course, and he presses me into the brickwork. Every inch of us touches: his hips resting slightly above mine, his legs between my own, our hearts beating in unison. Slowly, and then a little faster, he grabs my hands and pins them above my head, kissing down my arms to my neck, nuzzling me there, biting my shoulder so I gasp. He catches the gasp, kissing my lips once more.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs into my mouth.

I shake my head a little and pull back. “You’ll have to do better than that,” I tease, breathless.

Growling in mock frustration, he lifts me onto his hips, pushing us back to the wall so that he's leaning his weight on me. The pressure between my legs is almost unbearable and the strength of his lips makes me shiver. The kiss turns hard, passionate. His hands touch me through my top, then from beneath it. I can’t help but close my eyes tight and curl my fingers. Will kisses me slowly, quickly, torturously with an open mouth, surprising me with small jolts: a nip at my earlobe, a rough shift of his hands or his hips. When I cave and make a small noise of pleasure, he pulls back, lowers me to the floor and grins.

“Forgiven?”

I sigh.

“Chloe?” he says, giving me puppy-dog-eyes. “Baby?”

He looks so good biting his lip and looking at me with pleading eyes that I can’t help it. He knows I forgave him a long time ago, anyway. Still I answer him by spinning us round and pushing him up against the wall. I cover his lips with my own and boldly slip my hands over his face, through his hair and then under his shirt. As my fingers run over his abs, he tenses his muscles, desire taking over his features. “I can’t say no to you, Will Falcon,” I whisper, breathing hotly on his neck and then dropping my mouth to bite the skin there. He tips his head back and moans, his hands in fists at his sides. The sound is so sexy that I pull back and just look at him.

We are both breathing heavily. He stares right into my eyes.

“This,” he says, “is what I love most. Just looking at you, knowing that you’re mine. Even without the kiss list, Chloe, I would have wanted you and only you. I would have wanted this.”

“It really wasn’t just about the list?” I ask tentatively. “Not just about getting the kisses?” I take his hand and pass my lips over each of his fingertips, sucking them softly. A muscle jumps in his jaw as he attempts to hold it together.

“No,” he says. “It wasn’t. At first it was about getting you to notice me, then to like me…and now...now to love me. Do you love me, Chloe?”

This time, I hold his gaze for longer. “Yes,” I say. I truly love that word.

“I love you too,” Will says. “Kiss me, love.” So I do.

When we break apart, he says “Chloe? You just shared a kiss with someone you love. Do you know what this means?”

I wonder for a second, then gasp and throw my arms around him. Number thirteen.That kiss was number thirteen. I have completed the kiss list. We did it together. “Thank you, Will,” I whisper to the grinning boy at my side.

Soon, we walk home. No amount of kissing can delay Will’s early-bird journey in the morning. Still, I am beaming. I have, quite possibly, the best boyfriend in the world, a loving mother and great friends. Life is good. In that moment, I am happy enough to fill two hearts. Wherever he is, I hope Mark realises how grateful I am that he gave me the chance to feel this way.

We reach my front door and I step up onto my doorstep. Just before he leaves, Will turns to me and I see that his mischievousness has returned. “So, I was thinking…” he begins.

“That’s always dangerous,” I tease.

“Shhh,” he says, bumping my shoulder. “I was thinking that, uh, maybe…you could write another kiss list one day.”

I turn to him sharply, laughing.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re out of romantic ideas, aren’t you?” I grin, watching the blush creep up his neck.

He shrugs. “A man’s gotta get his inspiration from somewhere,” is his defense. “I’d be fine without it, of course, but- you know- it wouldn’t be bad.”

I laugh again and lean over to kiss him. It’s only meant to be a quick peck on the lips, but he locks his arms around me to draw it out a little. Okay, a lot. Right there, I can actually think that a ‘Kiss List Mark II’ would be a good idea. Who knows, as our relationship moves forwards, the types of kiss could intensify. I shiver even thinking about it. Who knows what might happen?

“Will?” I say. He raises an eyebrow. “Get out of here.”

“What, you’re making me leave without an answer?” he whines. “Evil. Evil woman!”

I laugh, baring my teeth menacingly. “If I write another list it will be on my terms, and in my time,” I tell him in my best stern voice.

“And maybe I can contribute to this one?” Now his eyebrows are waggling.

“Maybe,” I say. “But as for now, you’re going to sleep through your wake-up call tomorrow if you don’t go.”

“Okay,” he says. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As soon as he is out of sight, I enter the house and run up to my room. Grabbing the kiss list, I cross through the last remaining kiss and look down at the worn, torn, screwn-up cover in my open palm. You can no longer read the words; all the fabric shows is a drawn barcode, a zebra of lines and crosses and numbers. For a moment, I wonder what to do with it now. And then I know.

I make my way downstairs and stoke up the fire.

This time, I actually do burn the kiss list, feeding the cover back into the ravenous mouths of the flames. But this time, I do not act out of anger. Like a phoenix, ‘Kiss List Mark II’ is getting ready to rise from the ashes. This time, the new and improved Chloe Golding is ready to smile in the face of life. There is no destruction as the diary cover turns to ashes, only possibility.

“Mum!” I call. She bustles quickly into the room, glancing around in panic as if I have broken something. I shoot her a slightly hyperactive smile. “Can we go shopping?” I ask.

She looks taken aback. Astounded, even. “Now? Whatever for?” she replies.

Once again, I adopt Will’s grin.

“A new diary,” I say. “I need a new diary.”

****

THE END.

^^^Oh, how I hate those words!

At first, this story was only supposed to be something to take my mind off of exams, but over time it has grown into something more and now it's even become my most popular work! I've loved sharing it with you guys and all of your support has been amazing! THANK YOU!

Please give this final chapter a last big surge of comments and votes etc. (I would love to hit 20k reads!) If I hit that goal, true to my word, I will post an extra chapter from room number seven.

And as for a sequel, well, who knows? I'm working on something new at the moment, but in time I think there could definitely be more of Chloe and Will's tale. Watch this space! :)