As I made my way out of the aisle, I heard whispers and giggling coming from my right. Glancing over the seats, I spotted a group of freshman girls all looking my way. I ducked my head, ignoring their stares.
It happened a lot. I had no idea why so many of them paid me so much attention. I’d been with Poppy for as long as they’d known me. I didn’t want anyone else. I wished they’d stop trying to get me away from my girl—nothing would ever do that.
I pushed through the exit and made my way to the backstage door. The air was thick and humid, causing my black t-shirt to stick to my chest. My black jeans and black boots were probably too warm for this spring heat, but I wore this style of clothing every day, whatever the weather.
Seeing the performers begin to pile out the door, I leaned against the wall of the auditorium, resting my foot against the white painted brick. I crossed my arms over my chest, only unfolding them to rake my hair from my eyes.
I watched the performers getting hugs from their families, then, catching the same girls from before staring at me, lowered my eyes to the ground. I didn’t want them to come over. I had nothing to say to them.
My eyes were still cast down when I heard footsteps coming my way. I looked up just as Poppy threw herself onto my chest, her arms wrapping around my back, squeezing me tightly.
I huffed a short laugh and held her right back. I was already six feet tall, so I towered over Poppy’s five feet. I liked it though, how she fit perfectly against me.
Inhaling deeply, I took in the sugary-sweet scent of her perfume and pressed my cheek against her head. After one last squeeze, Poppy pulled back and smiled up at me. Her green eyes looked huge under her mascara and light makeup, her lips pink and lush from her cherry lip balm.
I skirted my hands up her sides, stopping when they cupped her soft cheeks. Poppy’s lashes fluttered, making her look all kinds of sweet.
Unable to resist feeling her lips on mine, I slowly leaned forward, almost smiling as I heard that same hitch of breath Poppy expelled every single time I kissed her, in that moment just before our lips touched.
As our lips met, I exhaled through my nose. Poppy always tasted like this, of cherry, the taste from her lip balm flooding my mouth. And Poppy kissed me right back, her small hands gripping tightly to the sides of my black shirt.
I worked my mouth against hers, slowly and softly, until I finally pulled back, laying three short, feather-light kisses on her swollen mouth. I took in a breath and watched Poppy’s eyes flutter open.
Her pupils were dilated. She licked along her bottom lip before casting me a bright smile.
“Kiss three hundred and fifty-two. With my Rune against the auditorium wall.” I held my breath, waiting for the next line. The glint in Poppy’s eyes told me that the words I hoped for next would spill from her lips. Leaning in closer, balancing on her tiptoes, she whispered, “And my heart almost burst.” She only ever recorded the extra-special kisses. Only the ones that made her feel her heart was full. Every time we kissed, I waited for those words.
When they came, she almost blew me away with her smile.
Poppy laughed. I couldn’t help but smile widely at the sound of the happiness in her voice. I pressed another quick kiss to her lips and stepped back to drape my arm over her shoulders. I pulled her close and rested my cheek against her head. Poppy’s arms wrapped around my back and stomach, and I led her away from the wall. As I did, I felt Poppy freeze.
I lifted my head to see the freshman girls pointing at Poppy and whispering to each other. Their eyes were focused on Poppy in my arms. My jaw clenched. I hated that they treated her this way—out of jealousy. Most of the girls never gave Poppy a chance because they wanted what she had. Poppy said she didn’t care, but I could tell that she did. The fact that she stiffened in my arms told me just how much.
Shifting in front of Poppy, I waited for her to lift her head. As soon as she did, I ordered, “Ignore them.”
My stomach dropped as I watched her force a smile. “I am, Rune. They don’t bother me.”
I tipped my head to the side and raised my brows. Poppy shook her head. “They don’t. I promise,” she tried to lie. Poppy glanced over my shoulder and shrugged. When she met my eyes with her own, she said, “But I get it. I mean, look at you, Rune. You’re gorgeous. Tall, mysterious, exotic … Norwegian!” She laughed and pressed her palm over my chest. “You have that whole bad-boy, indie-style thing going for you. The girls can’t help but want you. You’re you. You’re perfect.”
I shifted closer and watched her green eyes widen. “And yours,” I added. The tension leaked from her shoulders.
I slipped my hand into the hand still on my chest. “And I’m not mysterious,
Poppymin. You know all there is to know about me: no secrets, no mystery.”
“To me,” she argued, meeting my eyes once more. “You’re not a mystery to me, but you are to all the girls in our school. They all want you.”
I sighed, beginning to feel pissed. “And all I want is you.” Poppy watched me, like she was trying to find something in my expression. It just pissed me off more. I linked our fingers and whispered, “For infinity.”
With this, a genuine smile tugged on Poppy’s lips. “Forever always,” she eventually whispered in reply.
I dropped my forehead to rest against hers. My hands cupped her cheeks, and I assured her, “I want you and only you. I have done since I was five years old and you shook my hand. No other girl will change that.” “Yeah?” Poppy asked, but I could hear the humor back in her sweet voice.
“Ja,” I replied in Norwegian, hearing the sweet sound of her giggle wash into my ears. She loved it when I spoke to her in my native language. I kissed her forehead, then stepped back to take hold of her hands. “Your mama and daddy took the girls home; they told me to tell you.”
She nodded her head, then looked up at me, nervously. “What did you think of tonight?”
I rolled my eyes and crinkled my nose. “Terrible, as always,” I said dryly.
Poppy laughed and hit my arm. “Rune Kristiansen! Don’t be so mean!” she scolded.
“Fine,” I said, pretending to be annoyed. I slammed her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her back, trapping her against me. She squealed when I began kissing up and down her cheek, keeping her arms locked by her side. I dropped my lips to her neck and caught her breath hitch, all laughter forgotten.
I moved my mouth up until I tugged on her earlobe with my teeth. “You were amazing,” I whispered softly. “As always. You were perfect up there. You owned that stage. You owned everyone in that room.”
“Rune,” she murmured. I heard the happy tone in her voice.
I pulled back, still not unlocking her arms. “I’m never more proud of you than when I see you up on that stage,” I confessed.
Poppy blushed. “Rune,” she said shyly, but I ducked my head to keep eye contact when she tried to pull away. “Carnegie Hall, remember. One day I’ll be watching you perform at Carnegie Hall.”
Poppy managed to free one of her hands and softly swatted my arm. “You flatter me.”
I shook my head. “Never. I only ever say the truth.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.