![Free-eBooks.net](/resources/img/logo-nfe.png)
![All New Design](/resources/img/allnew.png)
The Past
Hunter age nine
Isabel age eight
Isabel and I sit around her square oak table in her kitchen, watching her mom make a handmade cherry pie from scratch. Isabel puts her elbows on the table and I pinch her thigh hard enough she winces.
Her pretty brown-green eyes look at me. She frowns at me. “What was that for?”
Shrugging, I watch her mom as she lays a sheet of dough over the red cherry filling and begins to pinch the dough closed around the rim. “My mom pinches us when we put our elbows on the dinner table. She says it’s rude and disrespectful.”
Isabel’s lips purse. “Well, you’re mom isn’t here.”
“Yeah, but you are.” I pinch her thigh again and she shoves my shoulder. I have to hold on to the edge of the table to catch myself. She almost knocks me out my seat.
Her mom glances back at us, her eyes gleaming. “Did you see how I pinched the dough closed, Hunter?”
“Yes. I think I can do it now.”
Her face lights when she smiles. “Really?”
I glance at Isabel because she sticks her tongue out at me. “Yeah.” I pinch her leg hard under the table and she squeals, jumping in her seat.
Her mother gives Isabel a strange look. “Isabel, do you have ants in your pants?” her mom asks, turning back to set the timer on the oven.
“No, just Hunter,” Isabel mutters too low for her mom to hear.
She shoves me again and I yank on her ponytail. Her neck is arched backwards, her face tilting towards to ceiling. Her ponytail is in my hand.
I grip it tight and don’t let go.
She growls when I tug it again.
“Say sorry,” I demand. “And I’ll let you go.”
“No way!”
I yank on her long ponytail and Isabel shoves me out of my seat this time, but I pull her down with me. We’re on her kitchen floor, wrestling and rolling on top of each other. She lands on top of me, pinning my shoulders to the ground with her knees and she pinches both of cheeks in her hands. I push her off and settle on top of her, pulling her hair again.
Her dad joins her mom in the kitchen and they laugh at us, murmuring things to low for me to hear. But their laugh is a kind laugh, like they know something we don’t.
Isabel lands on top of me, her head is bowed and her hair free from her ponytail holder. Her long hair tickles my face. She grins at me while she presses my hands down to my sides with hers. entwining our fingers together, I smile up at her.
“Come here,” I whisper to her.
Her grin widens as her brows knit. “Why?”
“I want to tell you something.”
She shakes her head, her big eyes gauging my expression, yet fearful I might pull one over on her. “Then tell me.”
My smile gets bigger because of her distrust in me. “I want to tell you in your ear.”
She looks at me for a moment and I wonder if she can feel my heart beating through my chest.
She bends her head, tilting so her ear is lowered to my lips.
“I love you, Isabel.”
Her body jolts, her lips brushing mine when she turns her head to look at me, her hair sliding across my face. “You love me, Hunter?” Isabel says softly, her hands squeezing mine.
“More than you’ll ever know.”
She presses her soft lips to mine and something fiery in my body sparks and goes haywire. “I love you, too, Hunter.”
At the end of the day, Isabel and I eat cherry pie with her parents and Tyler and Hero. We all sit around the kitchen table. I steal kisses from Isabel when no one is looking. She keeps giggling when I kiss her mouth. She kisses me back, whispering how much she likes kissing me.
Today is the first day I told Isabel I loved her.
Today is the day I fell in love with Isabel’s lips and the taste of sweet cherry pie that coat them.
God, I love this girl.
I can kiss this girl for eternity.
I can love this girl forever.