As Jamie's hands clamp down around his artificial thigh—or what he calls, the socket—my breath hitches in my throat. I have no fear as to how I'll react. I honestly couldn't care less if he's missing a leg. But, I find myself anxious for him. I understand that this is a big deal. He's stripping away a layer of confidence and willingly revealing his greatest insecurity to me. It's incredible.

My eyes travel with the movements of the socket and as Jamie releases a muffled exhale, he presses a button on the side of the plastic molding and pulls it away from his flesh. I can hear the suction release as the prosthetic breaks free and Jamie carefully lays it on the ground next to him. His thigh is covered in a rubber-looking sock, which is what must have kept the socket suctioned to his leg.

I want to ask questions as he begins to remove the sock, but I refrain. It's already difficult enough for him to reveal this part of him, I'm not going to add stress to the situation by interrogating him about each step involved with taking the prosthetic off. Instead, I tell myself I'll just do a little Google research of my own later.

Once he's rolled the rubber fitting off his thigh, he gets to work removing a couple layers of socks. His eyes meet mine briefly as his fingers grip the last sock hiding his skin from sight.

"Ready?" he asks, with a tight smile.

"As I'll ever be."

And then the material is sliding away from his flesh. I watch, transfixed, until Jamie drops the sock onto the ground and plants his hands firmly against the ground beneath him as he studies my reaction.

"Hate to say this," I tell him, eyes skimming the scar along his stump, "But that was severely anticlimactic."

A loud laugh of relief breaks through his lips, and I glance up at his smiling face. I watch him for a moment, relaxing in the warmth of his expression. His eyes lock with mine and I feel the entire world shift, realigning itself to fit into this altered universe—a universe where the emotions emitting from Jamie's eyes reflect mine. We're in sync, and I'm not sure if it's just a moment, or if I'm glimpsing a certain truth inside Jamie's normally shielded heart. A truth that leads me to believe he might just feel something greater than friendship between us.

It's a startling realization. The thought itself feels so foreign. He's denied me for so long that I actually did give up hope, which was why I found it so easy to joke about it with him. Because I knew anything more would never happen. Now?... I'm not so sure.

As I continue to analyze his features, he does the same to me. Humor has evaporated, taking with it all signs of comfort. Nerves begin to spark with anticipation as my body moves me forward. He watches, curiosity swimming in his gaze as I slowly lift my hand toward him. I'm hesitant—unsure—but only for a moment. Before I can convince myself that it's a bad idea, I slide my fingers over his scar.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jamie gasps, the very second my fingertips graze his disfigured flesh. "What are you doing?"

I don't stop, because I feel like this is important. He needs to understand that it doesn't bother me. I find beauty in this blemish because it resembles victory. He went through hell and managed to win against the ugliness of depression and defeat and guilt. They still remain but they don't control him. My eyes follow my fingers as they slide across his thigh, tracing the mark that signifies the day his life was changed forever.

When Jamie's palm slams down over my hand, my eyes jump up to meet his again. He's watching me, the most peculiar look on his face. It's a mix of feelings. He mortified and startled and puzzled all at once. He doesn't release his grip but he does loosen it, and I take this as encouragement to continue. Only, instead of sliding my fingers across his residual limb, I lift my hands to his face and trace the edge of his jaw.

Jamie continues to analyze my expression as I let my fingers dance across his skin, and I know he's watching me when I allow my eyes to dip toward his lips. I can see his jaw ticking from my periphery, some kind of warning jumping as the muscle flexes, but I don't back off. I've already committed this far, he'll have to tear me away from him if he really wants me to stop. But, so far, he hasn't made any sort of move to discourage my curious fingers. And there's something about his gaze that's hinting at the possibility that he doesn't actually mind where this is going.

It's only when I lift my gaze back to him that his expression changes. The shame and shock drop away, leaving only perplexity in their wake. He watches me for a moment, and then ever so slowly, he leans in. I think I must be imagining the subtle movement until I sense his hand reaching for me as he slides it around my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. And then, he pulls me toward him until his breath is fanning across my lips and his forehead is rested against mine. His eyes are open and as I watch him, he watches my mouth. Seconds tick by and I wish more than anything that I could slip into his thoughts and see what's stalling him. I want to push those few inches away so I can finally taste him, experience him... but I hold back. This has to be Jamie's decision. I've done all the work up until now. This step? It's all his.

I barely notice the space diminish until I fell the lightest feathery touch of his mouth against mine. His movements are cautious but something about the caution is exhilarating. It's making my anticipation spike and my muscles coil with jittery desire. Jamie inhales slowly and he pulls back slightly, his eyes flashing to mine for a brief second. There's fear and doubt swirling in their depths, but just as soon as I see it, it vanishes, only to be replaced by determination.

"Oh, what the heck," he whispers hoarsely, pulling me toward him by the wrist and sliding a hand behind my neck as he presses his lips to mine.

I gasp, surprised by his forwardness. I'm used to giving it, but when someone else is forward, it throws me off my game. I pull away, my breathing uneven as my nerves orchestrate a chorus of 'hallelujahs' and 'holy craps' throughout my system. Jamie's the one watching me now, his face firm, as if daring me to take the plunge with him.

And I do.

Wrapping my hand around his neck, I yank him forward and crash my lips to his. He grunts from the force but quickly regains his composure as his hands find my waist and pull me onto his lap. His mouth works expertly against mine, igniting streaks of fire throughout my body when he gently tugs at my bottom lip.

I open up to him, finally experiencing the depth of his kisses as his lips mold mine until I'm in a state of mindless bliss. I'm sweating in places I've never sweat before—mainly because I don't sweat... ever—and my hands are trembling with euphoria as I weave my fingers into his hair and tug at the coarse strands.

His hands are still at my waste, but he lifts one to slide up my arm and over my shoulder before tangling it in my hair. The prickly sensation of having a man's hand weaving through my slick locks is almost hypnotizing and I swear, if I wasn't so consumed with Jamie's lips, my eyes would be rolling into the back of my head in delight.

"It really is as soft as it looks," he says breathlessly against my mouth before diving right back into where we left off.

I laugh against his lips, pulling him closer and savoring this moment like it might be my first and last time to experience Jamie this way. I hate to doubt it, but I can't help myself. I know how I feel, but I fear that Jamie isn't on the same level as I am emotionally. Actually, I'm quite certain he isn't. I've had years to let my feelings bloom. If Jamie feels anything at all, it's only been within the last few months—at the most.

As the fire slowly subsides, we reluctantly pull ourselves away from each other. I watch his expression as his eyes lock with mine, and then he's dropping his gaze as a husky laugh falls from his lips. He clears his throat and glances up at me with a boyish grin. My heart melts at the sight and I lift my thumb to trace across his smile.

"That just happened," I say, shaking my head in astonishment.

"It did," he confirms with a soft laugh.

"That was... incredible," I state boldly. "I mean, you've clearly had a lot of practice."

"Eh," he shrugs. "Not really. I'm just a natural. You, on the on the other hand," he jokes, puckering his lips to the side and shaking his head in dismay, "could use a little work."

I slap his chest—hard.

"Careful," I warn. "I will kill you and bury your body out here in hopes that a wild animal will have a heyday with your remains."

"Hey hey hey," he defends, holding up his hands. "It's not a problem. I'm happy to teach you everything I know about the art of kissing. But first—" He scoots me off of his lap, " let's get into that hammock.

I have to play the part of Jamie's crutch as he hobbles his way through the water and maneuvers himself into the hammock. Then, it's my turn to climb in, and let me tell you, it ain't easy... especially since I'd tied the hammock a little too high for my short self. I had to bring out my Spidey skills to hoist myself up, but I managed.

Now, I've never made out with someone before, but let's just say... Jamie does a fantastic job of teaching me all his tricks. We end up savoring each other's lips for several—and I mean several—minutes. It's glorious. When we finally decide to give our swollen lips a break, Jamie wraps his arm around me so I can nuzzle myself into his side.

"I realized something about you," Jamie says after a minute or two of peaceful swaying.

"What's that?" I tilt my head up so I can see his face as he speaks.

"You always put others before yourself."

I laugh with a scoff. "That's false."

"It's not," he counters. "I've seen it with the way you act around your friends, my friends... me. You're always asking about how I'm doing or scrambling to figure out a way to make me happy. You willingly put yourself in a position to be hammered on anytime I was feeling particularly bitter or enraged, and you did it simply so I could have an outlet. It's a good quality," he assures me, "but also a little dangerous. You let people use you like that and there's bound to be emotional consequences."

I stare at him a moment, awed by this new revelation.

"I realized it that day in the pool," he tells me. "When I asked about your sister."

"Yeah?"

"You played the reason off as being age," he says, watching me intently as he speaks. "You said you didn't tell me about her years ago because you just never thought about you. It was insignificant to your younger self."

"What does that have to do with me putting others before myself?" I find myself asking, unable to put the pieces together.

"Because," he answers, "you don't talk about yourself. Ever. You're always concerned about others. You ask all the right questions and you offer all the best support. You're the ultimate friend. But, nobody seems to do the same for you." He sighs, glancing up at the trees towering above us. "Had I simply asked about your life when we were younger, I probably would have known about your sister."

I ponder that for a moment and then shrug. "Maybe."

"We're a greedy species. We want, want, want, and take, take, take because, as humans, we're inherently selfish. But you?" He shakes his head as if mystified. "... you're not. Which leads me to believe only one thing."

"What's that?" I wonder, tucking my hands between my face and Jamie's chest as I stare up at him until he meets my gaze.

"You're not human," he states simply, twisting the somber conversation into a playful one.

The sound of my laughter echoes across the water, rippling along with it until it fades into the distance. I slide my hand out from under my face and graze it across Jamie's chest before slipping it around his firm torso.

"You're right," I concede, faking disgrace. "I'm actually not human."

"I knew it!" Jamie shouts, raising a fist into the air in proud triumph before quirking a brow in my direction. "What are you then?"

"A troll."

"Hmm." Jamie slides a finger over my forehead and down the side of my face, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear with the movement. "The most beautiful troll I've ever seen."

My veins grow cold, shocked by the naked honesty in those words. Jamie has told me that he finds me attractive before, but never with that level of truth. This time, hearing him say that he finds me beautiful has my heart skipping circles in my chest. The way in which he said it had been so raw and uninhibited, I knew it had to have come from a place of genuine emotion. And for some reason, that simple realization gives me a dangerous boldness. A boldness I'll wish I didn't possess at that moment because it will ruin everything.

Because, as I stare at Jamie, my heart swelling with affection, I'm suddenly unable to contain the truth anymore. So I tell him exactly how I feel.

Those three little words, "I love you", fall from my tongue with such ease that for a second I think everything is right in the world. Nothing can go wrong when I'm bursting with such passionate affection for someone. And in this moment, looking at Jamie's face, I honestly think nothing can.

His reaction is as close to perfect as I could imagine from someone who doesn't share my intense feelings. His smile never wavers, but I can see the slow fade of pleasure from his eyes. And then he leans down and seals my doubt with a kiss. A tender kiss. One filled with promise and a future.

It's not until three days later that I realize how easily my heart had fooled me. And as I sit around home waiting for Jamie to call or show up on my doorstep with some kind of explanation for his sudden absence, I already know the truth.

He only wanted a moment; I wanted forever.

---

It happened!! It finally happed. The long-awaited kiss! Was it worth the wait?

Not gonna lie, this is my favorite chapter. How'd you guys feel about it?