A / N

Did you know that the last official kiss (and by that I mean non-fanfiction, in a full-length novel) that I wrote was back in 2016 with Animal Instinct? How crazy is that? Sure, we've seen plenty of hot loving in Dark Ages and a kiss in If The Shoe Fits, but it's not the same, I think.

So the question that remains to be answered is—does Noelle still have it? I like to think that I still do have what it takes to write a hot as fuck scene, but I'll leave the judgement up to you.

x Noelle

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the one you've also been waiting for

KISSING MILES WAS everything and nothing like I remembered.

It was familiar and new all at once. The featherlight touch of his lips to mine—shy, uncertain, almost seeking permission. A whisper of an exhale escaped him; I felt it hot and heavy on my skin. His mouth sealed over mine, bolder now. Long, rough fingers brushed my cheek, gentle at first; then his thumb stroked up my jaw, tilting my head just so to deepen the kiss. He bit down on my bottom lip, followed by the hot slide of his tongue to soothe it. He curled an arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

Now this was new.

I shivered. This was Miles, six years older, a more worldly, experienced man who seemed to have forgotten nothing about me. He knew me like the back of his hand and had me twisted around his finger.

I'd be damned if I didn't kiss him with everything I had in me. I reached up to his neck and pulled him down, pressing myself flush against him so that not a sliver separated us. He tensed at my touch, then let out a shuddering breath, his fingers digging into my hips. I opened my mouth beneath his, then drew his tongue in and sucked on it. A low, needy groan escaped him, one that made my toes curl and stomach twist.

I want you.

The words burned in my chest as I fought the urge to say them aloud. I never stopped wanting him, but this made me realize just how much I wanted him. Until the want had become a need, and I felt like my lungs would burst with this sheer need of him. I couldn't imagine how I had ever spent all those years without him, or all those years before him. He was my then, my now, my first, my only.

And I ached with the realization that he'd never known any of that.

A sudden flash of bright light broke us apart.

Miles wrenched away from me like I was an open flame. Confused by his reaction, I gazed up at him. I was half-tempted to pull him back, until I saw the panic in his wide eyes. I didn't have to turn around to know what had startled him. We'd kissed well through midnight, and the first of the fireworks had probably made its way into the sky. As if on cue, a sharp crack sliced through the silence, followed by loud cheers in the distance.

Miles flinched at the sound. After all these years, it was plain to see that he still dreaded loud noises—a carry over from the bullying he'd faced in his childhood. "It's okay," I said gently. "it's just the fireworks."

His gaze trailed to the sky, where a dizzying burst of red sparks had just exploded into the night. But instead of being captivated by the display, he tensed and curled his hands into fists. "I-I have to go."

"Of course. I'll walk you to your car."

"No." He fell a quick step back when I moved towards him, and he didn't meet my eyes. "I should go."

Suddenly, I wasn't sure if it was the fireworks or our kiss that had thrown him off-balance. Doubt seeped into me—did he regret it? I swallowed hard and tried to fight the tightening in my chest. "Okay, well..."

Call me when you get back, was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit back the words. We weren't dating anymore. We weren't anything else but exes, and one kiss hadn't changed much.

"Drive safe and...happy new year, Miles," I said instead, with a faint smile. "I'm glad I got to spend it with you."

He stared at me for a moment before he nodded. "Happy new year," he returned quietly, and left without a backward glance.

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"So...I'm guessing you still haven't heard from Romeo?"

I scoffed and raised my eyebrows at Brielle's question. It had been two weeks since the New Year's Eve party and many things had changed since, but certainly not anything between Miles and me.

Of course, I'd heard plenty from Hale & Co. They had now settled in as the official new owners of Blue Haven. As Dad had predicted, none of the residents had been forced to move nor had the rent increased—although new leases had to be signed by all tenants.

But if Hale & Co. had made its presence known in Caverly, Miles's absence was like an aching hole in my gut. Many times, I'd thought of just picking up my phone to text him the way I had on Christmas, but uncertainty held me back. What if he'd regretted that night? What if it had been just a kiss, and it didn't mean a damn thing to him? What if...?

Miles was right. I was far less brave than I'd been before, but it was only because he was the biggest stake I could lose.

I didn't tell Brielle any of that. "Really?" I said instead, "Romeo? You couldn't think of anything better?"

"Why not?" she tossed back as she slowed down to match my pace. While I was out of breath from my usual morning job, she looked like she'd stepped right out of a Parisian photoshoot riding a sleek blue bicycle. "You must see the similarities. Two star-crossed lovers trapped in a business feud. Truly a Shakespearean romance of epic proportions."

"Not to mention a tragedy of epic proportions."

Brielle eyed me in amusement. "Can't be that far off, considering how out of breath you are right now. You sound like a train."

I shot her a flat look. Clearly, she still bore a grudge that I'd woken her at seven in the morning—on a Saturday, no less—but I'd needed someone to accompany me.

"You look like a vampire," I shot back. And it was true. Despite living in a town literally by the beach, Brielle avoided the sun at all cost and held firm to her belief that it would ruin her perfect complexion.

As someone who adored the sun, I was highly tempted to hit her whenever she said that.

Ever the yoga-enthusiast, she shrugged. "Running is pointless. I don't see any situation in which I'd ever be caught running, unless it's away from something—like a ghost or a zombie. Or running towards something, like Ryan Gosling."

I rolled my eyes at her.

But she only smiled and added, "Speaking of running towards handsome men, here comes the one you'll want to sprint towards."

My head snapped up. Too caught up in my conversation with Brielle, I hadn't noticed the group of people that had wandered to the beach. And, in the middle of the group, stood the one person I hadn't stopped thinking about since the night we kissed.