by Rae Kennedy
He turns around when he hears me laugh and, God, is his face just perfect. Those deep brown eyes are lit up with his smile and I find myself staring at the little cleft in his chin.
“What?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing. I hear this is a good restaurant.”
“It’s pretty romantic.” His cheeks flush. I swoon at embarrassed Adam.
We enter the restaurant and he is right. Everything is beautiful, serene, and very romantic. The tables are intimate with white tablecloths and little flickering candles that cast a warm glow over the space. Actually, there doesn’t seem to be any lighting other than candlelight.
We are seated promptly for our 7:15 reservation and the server recites the evening’s specials. They all sound so fancy. I am a little overwhelmed. Adam smiles his boyish smile at me, putting his hand over mine across the table.
“I think we could use just a moment.” He is so freaking handsome, and he can’t take his eyes off of me, even if he is sweetly amused by my obvious French-restaurant virginity.
I order more wine right away.
Turns out I had no need for worry—everything set for us on the table is superb. By the time our dessert—a strawberry tartlet drizzled with decadent vanilla bean-infused crème fraiche—is set down I am pleasantly buzzed on wine and laughing uncontrollably at Adam’s stories about getting stranded on a city bus in Brazil. He had fallen asleep and failed to get off at the stop with the rest of the Habitat for Humanity volunteers over last year’s Spring Break. He is charming and only reluctantly removes his hand from mine to eat. His gaze is altogether more heated as we take turns eating the sweet dessert from the same spoon.
After dinner, we walk out onto the sidewalk. It is dark and I can just make out the haze of the moon glowing behind the clouds. I should have brought a jacket but I’m not used to it getting cool this early in the year. I am heading toward Adam’s car when he reaches for my hand. I slow and turn to look at him as he laces his large fingers through mine. Suddenly I feel quite warm. He leans down and brushes his nose against my cheek. His breath is hot against my skin and his scent makes me inhale deeply.
“You want to take a walk with me for a little while?”
Dear God, yes.
I can only nod in response. And so we walk. He asks me some more questions about my hometown and what I was like in high school. But mostly we just walk. And look up at the stars. Adam releases my hand and wraps his whole arm around my shoulders, my body fits snuggly under his arm and I rest my head into his chest. One of the perks of being so short. I could sink into him right here—he is so warm and solid against me.
We stop at an intersection for the light to change. The air is breezy and I am more aware of my bare arms as we are motionless. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his head dip down as his hand sweeps over my arm. I turn my face up ever so slightly and it is all the cue he needs. He closes the space between us quickly and his lips are pressed against mine. Despite the chills, his kiss is heated and he begins to move his mouth tenderly, coaxing it open to allow our tongues to massage one another. He tightens his arms around me, pulling me in against his body and I wrap my arms around his waist, running my hands up his back. We break the kiss but hold the embrace a few moments longer. Our noses and foreheads are together, lips just an inch apart.
“Ready to head back now?”
Not really.
“Sure.”
The ride home is much too brief. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here with him. His hand is resting lightly on my knee and he takes his eyes off the road to smile at me every few seconds. I am still blissfully drunk off our kiss—and let’s face it, the wine too.
I’ve got a tight grip on his hand as we navigate the cracked steps up to the porch. Please don’t trip in front of Adam. I probably shouldn’t have ordered that last glass of wine.
He gives my hand a squeeze before releasing it when we reach the door. I look up at his dark brown eyes and he closes the space between us. His warm hand is on my cheek, then in my hair, holding my face to his. His lips meet mine gently at first. The kiss becomes wetter, more eager as his tongue maps my mouth. His breathing becomes erratic. He pulls me to him as my fingers grip his sweater. He pulls away too soon.
“I should probably let you go now.”
What?
“Yeah.” I smile as sweetly as I can. I want the smile to say, “I’m a good girl. I like you, and that was nice,” instead of what I am actually thinking, which is, “I haven’t gotten laid in forever and I would like to attack you while ripping all your clothes off.”
“Bye, Haley.” He leans down and kisses my cheek. “I’ll call you later.” And with his stunning smile, he turns and leaves. The scent of his cologne lingers around me.
* * *
As I breeze inside, Cade is just walking from the kitchen into the living room. He’s carrying a big bowl and shoving his mouth full of popcorn when he sees me and freezes, hand still in mid-shove.
“Wow.” A piece of popcorn totally falls out of his mouth. “You look great.” He looks me up and down incredulously, lingering a bit too long at my boobs.
“I clean up nice, I guess.” Clearly, I hadn’t impressed him lounging around the house in my sweats over the last few weeks. Well, that is for the best because I certainly don’t need Cade looking at me like that. The way he is currently looking at me. He nods his approval.
“I was just about to start a movie. You want to watch it with me?”
I am still too awake from the incredible kissing to go to bed.
“Sure. Just...give me a minute.” I am not sitting next to Cade all evening in this dress.
He shrugs and plops on the couch, still eating the popcorn by the fistfuls. Okay, maybe he isn’t that distracted by the dress. I still go and change into a light T-shirt and my most comfortable gray sweats. In the bathroom, I scrub my face clean and put my hair up into a bouncy ponytail.
When I come back out, he looks dramatically disappointed.
“No dress?”
“Um. No.”
He has that devious panty-dropping smile on his face again. He looks at me like I am naked.
“That’s all right. You looked nice in the dress, but not nearly as much as you do in polka-dots.”
Heat rises to my ears and I can’t think of a good retort. He motions for me to sit next to him.
“Sorry. It’s just too easy to give you shit. I promise I’ll be nice. I’ll even share my popcorn.” He holds up the bowl as a peace offering and I can’t help but smile at the innocent look he so purposefully puts on his face.
I sit next to him and immediately swipe a handful of popcorn, giving him my best evil eye. Apparently, it is a pretty poor evil eye because it just makes his smile broaden.
The movie is a ridiculous comedy from a few years ago. The jokes are juvenile, but I secretly love it.
We spend the first half of the movie intently watching, laughing at every moronic joke and shtick while intermittently reaching for more popcorn. I try not to care when our hands brush against each other in the bowl, but it keeps happening and I swear he must think I am doing it on purpose.
More than once I realize my foot has wandered over to his side of the couch and is resting against his leg before I pull it away. He doesn’t acknowledge our multiple accidental touches, but he doesn’t move his leg either.
Near the bottom of the bowl of popcorn, I spot the perfect piece. It is huge and so unnaturally yellow I know it is going to be wonderfully buttery. Right as I reach for it, Cade snatches it. I reflexively smack his hand away. He drops the popcorn and looks at me, a little shocked. His astonishment quickly melts into his devious grin.
“What? You take up three-quarters of the couch and now you’re going to hog the popcorn?”
“I am not taking up three-quarters of the couch!” I am not.
“Hey, you’re the one who keeps touching me with your smelly feet.” He is smirking at me. The jackass.
“My feet are
not smelly!”
“Really? Let’s see.” He grabs for my foot. I kick and try to twist away from him but he is too fast and has my bare foot in his hand quickly. He pulls it up to his nose and scrunches up his face in an excessive display of distaste. “Whoa, super stinky.”
I can tell he is joking, and I know my feet do not stink—oh god! Do my feet stink? Now he is full on laughing at me.
“You’re an ass!” I grab for the popcorn and throw a few pieces right at his face. He is momentarily surprised then grabs a few pieces of his own and throws them at me, chuckling. He grabs my foot again and starts tickling the bottom of it. Seriously? Apparently, I am six years old and I am laughing too hard to form any coherent sentences. I can only gasp out, “Stop!” in between sobs of laughter. I can’t breathe. I am practically choking.
“Cade!” He’s incessant. “Please...stop.” I almost kick him trying to struggle away. That was the first time. The next time I actually do kick him in the face. A good hard heel right to the jaw. His teeth clank together when my heel connects.
“Ow! Fuck.”
“Oh shit! I’m sorry, Cade!” I sit up toward him. “Are you all right?”
He has his hand to his face, massaging his open jaw.
“I bit my tongue.” He looks at me and abruptly seems less pissed and more pleased. “I think you made me bleed.”
I can’t control the giant smile that takes over my face.
“You’re pretty happy with yourself, aren’t you?”
“Well, you kind of deserved it.”
Before he can retort—and I can tell it is going to be a good one—Tuck walks in the front door. I suddenly realize how close I am sitting to Cade. I scoot back to the other side of the couch. Cade straightens up a little too just as Tuck walks into the room.
He comes in, loosening his tie and collapses into the chair opposite the couch with a sigh.
“What are you guys watching? Oh, this movie sucks. Shit. You two have the same awful taste in movies. I’m going to bed.” He gets up and moves toward the hall when Cade stands.
“Yeah, me too.”
They both disappear into the hallway, two doors shutting behind them.
Really? Not even a “Goodnight, Haley.” It is barely after midnight and I swear I have never heard Cade go to bed before two.
* * *
I climb into bed after finishing the last twenty minutes of the movie. I open my window just a sliver to let in the cool night air. My bed is soft and all-encompassing as I’m wrapped in my cozy blankets. I close my eyes and think over my day. The great first date. The moonlit walk. The first kiss. The second kiss.
Then I remember the mind-blowing breakfast. And the tickle fight.
My cell phone rings from under my pillow, jarring me from my thoughts. The screen is way too damn bright in my blackened room and it hurts my eyes.
It is Adam.
“Hi...” I am already smiling.
“I hope it’s not too late to call. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Swoon.
“Me neither.” That’s mostly true.
“I guess I just wanted to hear your voice and tell you I can’t wait to kiss you again.”
Oh.
“Goodnight, Haley.”
“Goodnight, Adam.”
CHAPTER 4
Monday morning I am in the shower. You know, just showering. In the middle of shampooing my hair and humming some song stuck in my head when I hear the door open. What the hell?
“Hey!” I stick my head out of the shower, making sure to sort of wrap the curtain around me. Awkward, but functional. Cade is heading to the toilet, only wearing tight little boxer briefs. Red this time. As he walks away from me, I can make out his sinewy back muscles all heading down to two dimples just above his ass. It is pretty nice, definitely a firm little round butt in those snug briefs. Goddammit. “Get out of here!”
“Hey!” He turns to look at me, sleepy and...offended? “No looking. I need to piss.”
“Excuse me? I’m naked in here!”
“Well, you’re the one trying to sneak a look at my junk.”
I swiftly retreat into the shower. “I was not.”
“You keep telling yourself that.” He is so infuriatingly good at flustering me.
“Fuck off.”
“Feisty in the mornings. I like it.”
I try not to, but I can completely hear him peeing. I scream just a tiny bit when the shower goes scalding hot and then ice cold after he flushes. I can hear him laughing as the sink runs. At least he is washing his hands.
I am especially glad to know he washed his hands when I come out and he is making breakfast. Actually, when it comes to the kitchen, at least, Cade is very neat and tidy. It is always spotless.
“Hungry?”
I eye him, not sure if I should act pissed about him interrupting my shower. But I have to be honest—I don’t really mind seeing his almost naked, tattooed body. Considering the state in which I met him, I’m surprised I haven’t seen him half-naked more often. I decide to play it off like I’m unaffected. Better not let him know I am still thinking about how great his ass looks.
“Whatcha making?”
“Smoked salmon frittata.”
“Jesus.”
He seems to enjoy that comment.
Tuck hurries into the kitchen, all suited up, and pours some coffee into a thermos.
“You having breakfast with us, man?” Cade asks him.
“Nah, I’ve got to run. I have a 10 AM deadline to meet. See you guys later.”
I thought I’d see more of Tuck living with him.
The frittata is delicious. Damn. Now I really can’t be mad at Cade.
“So, any requests for dinner? I have this evening off.”
“Oh, sorry—I have plans tonight.”
“Hmm. Same guy as this weekend?”
“Yep. Adam.”
Cade looks at me sternly. He seems to be clenching his jaw too. Why is he being so judgmental? He hasn’t even met Adam. Which reminds me—
“You’ll get to meet him tonight when he comes over to study.” We have a test tomorrow, but there’s probably more than just studying on the agenda.
Cade doesn’t seem very excited. “Super.”
* * *
Adam looks all bashful, Chinese takeout in hand, when I open the door to let him in. We settle on the living room floor, eating from the takeout boxes, our books and notes scattered around us. We spend probably the first half an hour eating and snorting over Professor Trobaugh’s newest cardigan in a rather fetching shade of mustard. Finally, we decide to start working. Adam is all cute and excited to show me the flash cards he has made. I watch his large hands move as he cycles through them. They are very nice hands. His nails are short and clean, the fingers long and thick. I think about how I’d like to touch them or have them touch me...
“Ready?”
I wasn’t paying attention. Oops.
I am recurrently distracted by him while he quizzes me. How his forearms flex when shuffling through the cards, how smooth and tan his skin looks against his light blue shirt, how his neck flexes when he laughs at my bizarre answers. I swear I don’t even hear half the questions—I am basically just throwing out related words arbitrarily. An hour later, my torture is finally over and he hands me the stack.
“Now you can test me.”
“This isn’t fair. Not only did you make these, but you’ve just gone through them twice.” I’m a major complainer.
“Okay. How about you ask me anything you’d like. Make them as hard as you can.”
“Let’s do this.” I grab my book and open it across my lap.
“But—let’s make it a little more interesting.”
I raise an eyebrow at him.
“Every time I get it right, I get something from you.”
“Oh?” Now I’m intrigued.
“Yes. A kiss.” His big brown eyes are too cute and wholesome to have such a scheming loo
k in them. But sexy. God, they are sexy.
“Accepted.”
He gets the first question right. His face lights up. I lean forward and he is right there, giving me a very sweet kiss on the cheek. The next one is a quick, chaste kiss on the lips.
He misses the next few questions.
The third kiss lasts just a bit longer, his soft lips parting to allow our tongues to touch for the briefest of moments. He lingers there afterward. He smells like his delicious cologne and fried rice. It makes me smile.
I continue with the questions. I’m not going easy on him. Unfortunately, this means I haven’t been kissed in the last ten minutes.
Change of strategy. I make sure he gets the last one right. I put my book down and crawl to him. As far as I am concerned, we’re done studying. He grabs me eagerly and I yelp as he pulls me close and dips me toward the floor. Then his mouth is over mine, hot and firm, wanting. I let out a little moan of appreciation and he responds by intensifying the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth deliberately with deep, slow movements. I have my arms wrapped around his neck as he holds me and I’m finding it hard to take regular breaths.
Then I hear a sound like someone clearing his throat behind me. Startled, Adam and I break the kiss. I am still out of breath when I turn to see Cade standing there.
“Oh! Hey, Cade.” I shoot to my feet, smoothing my hair and straightening my shirt. I probably look a mess. “This is Adam.” I motion to a more-than-confused-looking Adam as he gets up to stand next to me. “Adam, this is my roommate, Cade.”
Now that introductions are complete, I realize I haven’t told Adam about my living situation. They both eye each other suspiciously. Adam, obviously perplexed, is still the ever-polite man I have come to know and puts his hand out toward Cade.
“Nice to meet you, man.”
Cade is looking at me instead of Adam.
“Sure.” He turns and walks toward the front door without returning the handshake and leaves without another word. It is déjà vu. Maybe Cade has never actually been taught how introductions work.