“Seriously,” Blaine began, prompting me to lower the menu from my face. “Order whatever you want. You don’t have to get breakfast.”
I simply nodded and went back to perusing the selections in silence until a squeal rang out from beside us.
“You better stand up and give me a hug, you rascal!” the older grey-haired lady exclaimed.
“Yes, ma’am,” Blaine smiled, standing up to wrap her tiny frame in his arms. He looked like a giant compared to her.
“And who is this beauty?” she asked, smiling at me.
“Ms. Patty, this is the lovely Kami Duvall. Kami, Ms. Patty has been whoopin’ my ass since the day I was born.”
“Hush that mouth, boy,” she laughed, smacking him lightly with a rag. “Not in the presence of ladies. Now I know I taught you better’n that!”
“Forgive me. You certainly did, Ms. Patty.”
I couldn’t help but smile as she looked at Blaine with a loving pride that only a mother figure could possess. She loved Blaine, and I could tell that he loved her too. It made the walls around my heart crumble just a tiny bit more.
“It is so good to finally meet you, Kami,” she said, grasping my hands with hers.
I just barely stifled a yelp from the contact and tried my hardest to transform my grimace into a smile. “It’s really nice to meet you too, Ms. Patty.”
“Oh, Blaine, she is just too precious,” she remarked, patting him on the back. The look on his face was pure adoration, and I found it hard to tear my eyes away from his.
“Ok, what can I getcha? Blaine, you’ll have your usual, right?” Ms. Patty said, pulling out a pen and pad.
“Yes, ma’am. Kami?” he nodded.
I pushed the menu away and gave Blaine a wink. “And I’ll have whatever he’s having, please.”
The spontaneity was unlike me in every way, but the look on Blaine’s face was worth it. I don’t know what I would call it. Not quite joy, not quite admiration. It was something else…something warm and gratifying. Something that gave me the urge to do whatever I could to make him look at me like that again.
I must have gotten lost in those expressive eyes, because I totally forgot about Ms. Patty until she walked away, announcing that she would put our orders in right away. I shook my head, trying to regain my bearings.
“You’re doing it again,” I said, grasping a neon green flyer on the table advertising a car detailing shop.
“Doing what?”
“Giving me that look. Like you’re studying me. Like you see something in me that’s invisible to everyone else.”
“I’m sorry. Does it make you uncomfortable?”
I shook my head, my fingers mindlessly tearing the paper. “No. Not really. But remember you said I distract you? And that’s why I couldn’t wear skirts?”
I heard him chuckle, but I was too bashful to meet his gaze. I knew the Asian flush was in full effect.
“Yet you have one on right now. Which you look incredible in, by the way. And it’s distracting the hell outta me.”
I chewed my bottom lip, my face flaming like a 12-year old girl with Bieber Fever. “Well…when you look at me like that, you roll your tongue. Like you’re playing with your piercing. And it’s very, very distracting.”
His hands were suddenly cupping mine, causing me to look up into his face. He was giving me that look, yet it was laced with something else. Something more. Something that made my insides clench with desire and my belly do somersaults. The feeling was new and unknown, and it both thrilled and terrified me equally.
“What’s this?” he said just above a whisper, picking up the origami flower formerly known as a paper advertisement.
I shrugged. “It’s a habit. When I’m nervous or stressed, I tend to do it without even thinking about it.”
A frown marred his features, yet he never let go of my hands. “Are you nervous or stressed with me?”
I shook my head and gave him a slight smile. “No, you don’t stress me out. But you do make me nervous. In a good way,” I replied, repeating my words from last week.
“Hmmm, I wasn’t aware there was a good kinda nervous.”
We sat there for a few more seconds, his hands still housing mine, before Ms. Patty arrived with our food.
“Now here y’all go, just the way you like ‘em, Blaine,” she announced, placing giant platters of waffles covered with butter, fresh blueberries and whipped cream, with sides of bacon and sausage in front of us. My eyes grew twice their size.
“Now you take care of this young lady, ya hear?” she told Blaine, smiling at me sweetly. “Kami, you come by any time you like. And if this rascal gives you any trouble at all, you let me know, ok?”
I returned her smile with my own, and nodded. “I’ll be sure to do that, Ms. Patty. Thank you.”
Ms. Patty gave Blaine one last swat with her rag and turned to tend to the masses.
“She likes you,” Blaine remarked, unrolling the silverware in his napkin.
I rolled my eyes playfully. “She probably says that to all your dates.”
“Yeah right,” Blaine scoffed. “First off, Ms. Patty doesn’t do fake. If she doesn’t like you, you will know it. And secondly, I’ve never brought a date here. Ever.”
I tore my eyes away from the mountain of food in front of me and gave him a skeptical look. There was no trace of humor or deceit on his gorgeous face, and it quickly rendered me speechless. What could I possibly say to that?
“Eat up. You’ll need your energy for later,” he instructed, pointing his fork towards my plate.
“Energy?”
Blaine just chuckled and shook his head, taking a giant bite of blueberry-smothered waffles.
After nearly polishing off a plate of the best waffles I had ever had and earning an “I told you so” from Blaine, we said our goodbyes to Mavis and Ms. Patty and headed back out to Blaine’s truck. I was beyond stuffed, so I was grateful that Blaine took it upon himself to lift me back onto my seat. I felt bad for him; I must’ve packed on at least 10 pounds in the past hour. Ms. Patty’s food was more than worth it though.
Housing developments, strip malls, and restaurants became scarcer as Blaine drove east, the sight of thick, lush foliage whizzing by in the darkness. He turned onto a dirt-paved road surrounded by tall trees, and a niggling feeling in the back of my head set off alarm bells.
“Um, where are we going?” I asked with a trembling voice. Images of my body chopped up and stuffed into dozens of Ziploc baggies flashed in my mind. I shivered despite the warm temperature.
I felt his warm hand on my knee without even seeing him move. “You’ll see. Don’t worry; I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me.”
I eased back into the seat, his touch radiating comfort and tranquility. It didn’t feel like a sexual touch, being that he didn’t stray from his position on my bare knee. It felt soothing…calming. It was all Blaine.
When he finally stopped the truck, I noticed we were at a field of some sort. I didn’t really understand why he had brought me here. It was nearly pitch-black out. Suddenly, the earlier vision of my gruesome demise didn’t seem so far off.
Blaine reached behind his seat and recovered two Mason jars, handing me one.
“And what do you expect me to do with this?” I asked.
“Catch lightning bugs, of course,” he smiled, the lights of the dash illuminating his face.
“Lightning bugs? You mean fireflies? Why would you want to catch them?”
“Tomato, tomato. I can’t believe you never caught them before. I know y’all had lightning bugs down in ATL.”
“I didn’t grow up there,” I replied, shaking my head. Without even thinking, I was telling him the truth. I was letting him in. “I’m from California, where they’re called fireflies.”
“Ah, makes sense. Ok, city mouse, time to show you how it’s done.”
He slid out of the truck and came over to my side to help me out. Then he took my hand and led me
out into the field. “Look,” he instructed, pointing out into the darkness. Dozens of tiny glowing insects swirled around us, creating a field of twinkle lights. I could hear the buzz from their wings, harmonizing with the sounds of crickets and distant night critters. The combination was oddly peaceful, and I let myself soak it all in.
“When I was a boy, my mother used to bring me out here at night so we could catch lightning bugs. We’d place bets to see who could catch the most. I think she always let me win.”
I could almost hear the smile in his voice, and his accent suddenly sounded thicker. Rich with emotion. He was that little boy again, catching fireflies with his mom.
“She told me that you would always find the most lightning bugs when a summer storm was approaching. They were like a warning, illuminating the sky before the real lightning struck. They were nature’s omen. The change in the atmosphere, the moisture in the air, some unseen current…they knew something big was coming. She swore she could predict the weather just by watching the lightning bugs. The more there were, the worse the storm.”
“Sounds like a pretty resourceful woman,” I remarked.
“She was. She knew a bit about everything. I never knew my dad, so she was all I had. And I believed every word she said.”
His use of past tense did not go unnoticed by me. I squeezed his hand a little tighter and stepped into his side. “I’m sorry.”
I could see Blaine shaking his head in the darkness. “Don’t be. She died a long time ago. I believe I got her best years. Any more than that would have been selfish of me.”
Strangled, silent moments passed between us as I digested Blaine’s words. I imagined a little boy with expressive brown eyes and messy russet hair, crying for his mommy. Reaching out for the one person who he loved more than anything in the world. His lifeline. Alone, frightened and utterly helpless. He had lost his everything.
I didn’t even realize how deeply his words had touched me until I felt a hot tear roll down my cheek. I don’t know why Blaine shared that with me, but I was thankful. It reminded me that pain was necessary. Pain was life’s curveball. Without it, we would never appreciate what it felt like to be loved.
“Come on, we’ve got some lightning bugs to catch,” he said, looking down at me with a mournful smile. I never wanted to kiss him more than in that moment.
After Blaine taught me how to capture the bugs in the Mason jar, we spent the better part of an hour running through the field to see who could catch the most with only the truck’s headlights to brighten our efforts. Despite jumping at every creak or rustle of the trees, I did pretty well for a first-timer. Blaine was a madman. I spent several minutes just watching him go crazy, nabbing the mystical little pests with a childlike fervor.
When we were both exhausted and sticky from the humidity, Blaine spread a quilt in the bed of his truck where we lay on our backs side by side. He turned on the truck’s radio to a popular station, the sounds of OneRepublic, and our laughter the only noise to be heard for miles.
“Ok, before we tally up the results, would you like to make a little wager?” he asked holding up his jar of flickering insects.
“Oh please! You know you won. Betting against you would be stupid!”
I felt him shrug beside me. “You never know. Come on; humor me.”
I sighed. “Fine. If I win…” I scrunched my forehead in concentration until a stroke of genius sent me into hysterics. “You have to perform at the next Open Mic Night!” Blaine’s horrified expression only fueled my laughter, causing tears to roll down the sides of my face.
“Ok, ok, so you want to play it like that, huh?” he said loudly, trying to drown out my giggles. “If I win, you have to spend the night with me again.”
His words quickly quieted my guffaws, and I rolled over onto my side to assess his expression. “You’re serious.”
“Absolutely. For some strange reason, I have a sudden appreciation for sleepovers.” Blaine rolled over onto his side as well, putting us face to face. “And I do mean sleep. No funny business, young lady,” he jibed.
“And here I thought you were going to wager a kiss,” I said just above a whisper.
“Nah. No need,” he replied, matching my hushed tone. “I was gonna do that anyway.”
This.
All I needed was this.
Her warm, sweet breath fanned across my face as she sighed with anticipation. I could almost hear her heartbeat stutter over the music. Hooded, sultry eyelids blinked slowly, those emerald green retinas sparkling under the moonlight.
This.
This moment was the only one that mattered. This woman in front of me was the only one that existed.
I wanted to make Kami mine in every way, shape, and form. I wanted to claim every moan, every whimper, every shudder. But for right now, I would settle for this. I would savor this. I would put every ounce of the concentrated desire exploding in every synapse like fireworks on the 4th into this.
This.
I couldn’t see anything beyond this. Beyond her. Beyond us.
I just had to make her feel this too.
I always thought of myself as physically, well… normal. As emotionally and mentally fucked up as I was, I almost took pride in the fact that sex was never the issue. It was a welcomed distraction. An outlet for all the suppressed aggression and pain. I could be completely detached and let my carnal instincts take the reins. I could be as expressive as I wanted to be.
I could be fearless.
It numbed the pain and gave me a substitute for the love and affection I could never receive. My body felt what my heart could not. I knew I was damaged goods. But, it was the one thing… he…never took from me.
Sex, affection and love would never share the same space in the tidy little compartments of my psyche.
Until now. Until Blaine.
Everything I thought I knew about my heart and body was completely shattered the moment Blaine’s arm snaked around my lower back and drew me to him. And when his soft lips fell on mine, I knew that I was far from normal. I knew I had never felt true intimacy until that very moment. I don’t even know what I had been doing before.
I had kissed this man a thousand times in my head. In my dreams, he had explored every inch of my body with thorough precision. Blaine had already known me inside and out, and he didn’t even know it. Hell, I couldn’t even understand it. But the moment that metal barbell slid against my tongue, I knew. I knew that I was forever changed.
Blaine took me in that kiss. Right in the back of his truck with the crescent moon overhead and the forgotten Mason jars of fireflies at our sides.
With my breasts pressed against his hard chest—a chest that I had studied and committed to memory—our lips melded into one moving, tasting, teasing entity. He was gentle yet demanding, aggressive yet compliant. He was perfect. His scent, his taste, the way his lips seemed to know mine automatically. Absolutely perfect.
I allowed myself to get lost in him, wrapping my arms around his neck and back, our legs tangled together, seeking the warmth of each other’s bodies. I moaned as his hand gripped my bare thigh and coaxed my leg around his waist. He groaned when my hand slid up from the nape of his neck and into his hair, tugging lightly.
I hardly registered the rumbling of thunder overhead. My tightly closed eyes didn’t see the flash of lightning that ripped through the sky. I was too consumed by him. Too overwhelmed by my own aching need for more.
Lightning sliced open the clouds, bleeding warm, summer rain down on us in buckets. Reluctantly, we broke apart, panting, our eyes trained on each other. I wasn’t done, and the seductive gleam in his eyes told me that he wasn’t nearly done with me either.
“Come on,” he growled, pulling me up with him.
We hopped off the truck and scrambled to shelter, laughing and squealing as the rain soaked us. I was only too aware of how my sheer top clung to my body, creating a silken second skin. But I didn’t care. I would have peeled off every wet layer that v
ery second if Blaine had asked me to.
The moment we were safely inside the cab, the heat of our humid bodies creating fog on the windows, reality set in. We had just officially crossed that unseen line between “just friends” and “much, much more.” My cards were on the table. He now knew that I wanted him just as badly as he apparently wanted me. Fighting it would have been pointless and frustrating.
Just as the awkward silence had grown and swelled, filling up the enclosed space, Ed Sheeran began to belt out the words to “Kiss Me” on the radio, urging his lover to give herself over to his lips, lust and…love.
“Blaine…I…”
I don’t even know what I meant to say. But as I looked at him, the longer front layers of his sandy brown hair wet and dripping into those melted chocolate eyes, and that song suggesting every emotion I had tried to avoid… I just had to say something. Because if I didn’t, if I didn’t keep my mouth busy, I was liable to lick every little raindrop from his face.
“Kami…” he murmured, a slight frown dimpling his brows. But it wasn’t out of anger or frustration. It was as if he was fighting his own impulses.
Thank baby Jesus that whatever they were, they won out over his restraint.
His lips were back on mine, and he was sliding my body towards his before I even knew what was happening. Still, I needed to feel more of him. I needed his heat to warm me. I needed his flavor to intoxicate me. I needed his scent to take me higher than I already was.
I straddled his lap, pinning my frame between his torso and the steering wheel without my mouth ever leaving his. The slick coolness of our rain-drenched bodies created erotic sounds of skin slapping against wet skin as we pawed at each other furiously in a hungered frenzy that I had never felt before.
This is what I had heard about, yet never experienced. The intense need. The fervent craze. The spark that combusted into an inferno when you were with that one person that you couldn’t keep your hands off of. I honestly thought I didn’t need it. I thought it wasn’t necessary for a substantial sensual exchange.
Boy, was I wrong. Dead. Wrong.
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