by Izzy Daniels
“Emma, can I kiss you now?”
She searches my eyes, pinning me in place. She’s looking at me with such intensity, like she’s seeing straight into my depths seeking answers to unasked questions. When her eyes finally fall to my mouth, I know she found whatever answer she needed. As she closes the distance between our lips, my stomach somersaults wildly. My eyes close and I let the sensations overwhelm me. The gentle pressure of her warm lips against mine is far more heavenly than all the stars in the sky. Her hands find my hips and she steps closer into me. Time passes, it could be years or seconds for all I know. The world has ceased to exist as our mouths delicately embrace. But when her lips part ever so slightly, a wave of heat rushes through me and all thoughts of delicacy vacate. I try to keep my urgency at bay but the tip of my tongue briefly touches her lips and her gasp ignites every nerve in my body. When her own tongue runs across my bottom lip, my knees weaken and I bring mine to meet hers. The sensual union sends fireworks shooting through me. I don’t know how long we would have stayed in each other’s arms if the car next to us hadn’t clicked loudly as it’s owner unlocked it with a flash of lights, startling us apart.
Her chest is heaving hard as she stands before me and her eyes… oh, god, her eyes . They’re dangerously dark with passion and her mouth is the tiniest bit swollen. I swallow hard as I fumble with the passenger door. After she climbs in, I mutter apologies to the gentleman waiting to get in his car. When I get into my seat, I can see she’s holding her lips with two of her fingers.
“Wow. So, that’s kissing?” She turns to me and asks with wonder.
“Yes.” But I don’t tell her that kissing isn’t always like that. Somehow, that wasn’t just kissing, it was so much more. More than I can explain to her. My unsteady hands grip the wheel on the drive home, my thoughts in disarray. When I pull into her driveway it occurs to me that we’ve both been unnaturally silent.
“Thank you so much for an incredible first date. I’d really love a second one. Brooke, will you go out with me again?” Her voice is hopeful.
“Yes, please. I’d love that, too. Can I walk you to your door?” I ask as I reach for my seatbelt.
“Um, no that’s okay. Thanks though. So, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She says quickly before kissing my cheek and hopping out. She gets in front of her car and waves to me. I wave back and pull out of her driveway a little dazed from the tingles on my cheek, her abrupt departure, and the fact that she said she’s going to call me. A stupid grin takes over my face. She wants to date me!
9
Emmaline
“Finally! I’ve found something you are absolutely appalling at,” Brooke says as I flop into the seat across from her.
“I’m letting you win. I’m really a champion bowler. I just feel bad that I’ve beaten you at golf, pool, arcade games, and that pie eating contest,” I reply patronizingly.
“Oh, wow. Is that so? I’d like to see your championship moves. You can give up the bad bowler ruse,” Brooke counters with a knowing smirk.
“Nah, I’m letting you win and that’s final. Go on, it’s your turn.”
“You are such an awful liar. A very cute one, though,” she says with a laugh. She gets up and grabs her shiny green house ball. Another strike . She jumps and throws a fist in the air.
“Are you kidding me? A turkey?” I yell. But I stand and reward her with a kiss anyway. I glance at the screen above the lane. We’re on the ninth frame and I have twenty points. I really suck at bowling. I slide my fingers into the six pound pink ball and fling it towards the white pins. Halfway there it curves hard to the left and falls into the gutter. Really, really suck .
“Aw, honey, it’s okay,” Brooke says as she wraps an arm around my shoulders. “No one is perfect at everything. Ooh, look. Your nachos are here.” The server sets my platter down and I instantly feel better.
“Yes!” I slide back into my seat and dig in.
“And to think, I used to assume you had such a refined palate.”
“You know what they say about assuming,” I reply as I lick the terribly delicious fake cheese goo off my fingers. “Besides, you’re one to talk, with your weird love for corndogs. Do you even know what’s in those?” That earns me an offended face and I laugh. I want to wipe cheese on her nose but I’m not prepared for the consequences. Especially in public.
“Excuse you, corndogs are a time-honored classic. The perfect vehicle for spicy mustard. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m off to kick some tenth frame ass.” I roll my eyes at her cockiness and bite into another nacho as she knocks down nine pins. She picks up the spare and another strike. The jeans she’s wearing are slightly tighter than she normally wears and I’m certain she did it on purpose, knowing that she would spend a few hours standing in front of me. I can’t lie, I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.
“Okay, if you break thirty, I’ll take you on a simple movie date next week,” Brooke says when she gets back.
“You think you’re getting another date after this? Ha! Okay, fine, throw in a foot massage and you have a deal.”
“You drive a hard bargain, but I accept. Come on. You can do it!” I clean my hands with a napkin and grab my ball. I completely miss the first ball. With the second ball, I line my feet up, inhale, and stare on the middle arrow. Focus . When I throw it down the lane it goes straight and crashes into the pocket next to the center pin. Six go down immediately and one more wobbles a bit before falling over.
“Yes!” I shout. That’s the most I’ve gotten at once ever. Brooke cheers for me and picks me up by the waist.
“You did it!” She sets me down but doesn’t let go. She kisses me on the lips and smiles. “I’m so proud of you. Come on, eat your nachos we still have time before you have to go to work and I have to meet Morgan.” I follow her lead back to the table.
I met Morgan a few weeks ago when the three of us got together at Brooke’s to study for midterms. Which went well for having fun and terribly for doing any actual work. We laugh much more than we study. Morgan is pretty great and I consider her a friend now. Since I started dating Brooke over six weeks ago, my life has changed in ways I never imagined. We’ve had a lot of fun and done things I never would have made time to do ordinarily. I’ve smiled more in the last few months than I have in my entire life. It feels so good.
…
“Tomorrow is going to be so much fun!” Morgan announces for the fifth time while sitting on the floor at Brooke’s coffee table. She taps her pen rapidly on her textbook in excitement. Even after we all passed our midterms, we kept meeting on Monday and Friday mornings to study, do homework, and just hang out.
“I still can’t believe neither one of you has ever been to a Halloween party or a club before,” Brooke remarks as she sits down on the floor next to me handing me a steaming mug of coffee. Even though Brooke doesn’t drink the stuff, she went out and got a coffee pot when I started spending time here. That’s how amazing she’s been. Presently, I’m sitting across from Morgan at the coffee table and she rolls her eyes in Brooke’s direction.
“I know, I know. Living under a rock and all,” Morgan mutters. “But, that’s why it’s going to be so much fun! I hope I find a cliche hot guy to make out with.” Morgan’s pen now rests against her cheek thoughtfully. “Maybe I should have picked a sexier costume…”
“No way, you totally rock the Lloyd Christmas orange suit. And who knows, maybe you will find your Harry Dunne there,” Brooke assures her before biting into a green apple. My face grows warm as I watch her mouth chew, her piercings catching the morning sun from the window.
I hastily return my attention to my notes before she catches me staring lustily at her. We’ve had six weeks of really amazing dates and some incredibly sexy makeout sessions, but we haven’t gone further than that. Brooke understands that I’m new to all of this, so we’re taking it slow. There’s no pressure from her to go to the next step. Sometimes, usually in the heat of the moment, I think I’m ready, but then I remember I
have no idea what the heck I’m doing and I get insecure and intimidated.
Brooke has been really sweet and gentle with me though. Without meaning to, I look back over at her. Her pretty brown eyes, lined with dark eyeliner, are watching Morgan with friendly humor. She’s wearing a lightweight sweater but I can see the tattoos on her neck and on her collar bones, the ones my mouth has been desperate to touch. When my eyes find her face again, I see her watching me. Her lip piercings move with one last chew and I get thrown into memories of how they feel against my mouth and my neck. Blissful tingles run through me, building on the ever present desire.
“A girl can dream,” Morgan says with a sigh. Tearing my eyes from Brooke’s, I turn back to her as she asks a familiar question. “So you two still haven’t told each other your costumes yet? I thought one of you would break by now.” Brooke and I look at each other and shake our heads.
“No way. It’s a surprise. She’ll find out soon enough.” I say with a wink. She grins at me playfully.
“I bet I could get it out of you, if I wanted,” Brooke claims with one eyebrow lifted in what I’ve come to call her flirty tell.
“Oh, really? How would you do that?” I respond innocently. She tilts her head and taps her index finger on her chin.
“Hmm, how indeed? I’ve thought of several ways…” She brings her hand to rest on my knee. She eyes never leave mine as she guides her hand slowly up my leg. My breath hitches in my chest and those tingles I mentioned before? They’re a flaming throb now and she leans her head slowly toward me, angling for my neck. I feel the warmth of her breath as she whispers just below my ear. “Come with me to the bedroom and I’ll show you.” Gulp. She may have immeasurable patience, but she really loves to tease me.
Morgan closes her book with a thud. “Ugh! You guys are annoyingly cute. I need someone to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.” The she dramatically falls over sideways onto the floor.
My cheeks are pink as I kiss Brooke lightly on her mouth. “Wicked girl,” I whisper back to her. With effort, I don’t throw her over my shoulder and see what she means about the bedroom. Instead, I lean forward and carefully sip my coffee, aiming for unaffected. I completely and totally ignore the heat radiating from her touch still on my thigh. Unaffected. Riiight. She leaves it there for a few more moments and when her hand lifts off, my thigh is suddenly freezing. I shiver as Brooke looks over with a knowing grin. Morgan groans again from the floor.
“Morgan, how about I take some pictures of you and we make you a profile on a dating website?” Brooke asks.
“What! No way, I can’t do that. I’m in college! There’s plenty of fish here. Okay, maybe. If I don’t get any bites on my pole at the party.” Her giggle is contagious and I briefly laugh with her before returning my attention back to my homework. I have about an hour until I have to get to class, so I should really be reading. Instead of obeying me, my thoughts turn elsewhere. Does Brooke want to be my girlfriend?
I don’t know when dating becomes a relationship, but she feels like my girlfriend to me. She probably doesn’t want to or else she would have mentioned it by now. Which is fair. As it is, I should really tell her certain secrets before it goes too far. She might not even want to be near me when she learns the truth. I’ll have to tell her soon.
....
I’m carrying a ridiculously oversized garment bag, my usual messenger bag and a duffle bag as Jack watches me struggle through his front door. But does he help? No. He’s pretty much the worst friend ever. When I finally squeeze through, I drop everything onto his couch and plop down next it all. That struggle worked up a sweat, I probably should have just made two trips.
“Hey, stranger” he says. Oh boy, he does not look happy.
“Hey, yourself. How are you?” I ask tentatively.
“How am I? How am I, Emma? I’m awful. Do you know why I’m awful?” His arms cross over his chest. Crap, I’m in trouble .
“No…?” Is this a trap?
“No? Huh. Well, I’ll tell you then, shall I? My best friend has abandoned me.” I honestly can’t tell if the hurt expression on his face is real or not but I instantly feel terrible. I hop off the sofa go and hug him. Hugging is my new thing. I’m getting pretty good at it. He lets me but doesn’t return it. I squeeze tighter.
“I’m really sorry, Jack,” I say sincerely. “I know I have been a bad friend, caught up in spending more time with Brooke. How can I make it up to you? Please let me make it up to you, anything, just name it.” I look up and give him my dewy, begging eyes. I can tell he’s starting to budge some because his narrowed eyes are relaxing. After another moment of torture, he hugs me back and moves to sit on the couch. He stretches out his legs and puts his hands behind his head. Oh no, I can tell he’s plotting now. This is the pose he assumes when he’s masterminding.
“Anything, you say? Well, I’ve got a pile of laundry that needs doing. Also, I have been thinking of a Lord of the Rings marathon for Thanksgiving break. The extended dvds.” He gives me a look that shows he’s waiting for me to object, but I don’t. “Oh, and I have had a craving for lasagna.”
“Wow, anything else? That list seems so small for all the wrong I’ve done,” I say with a touch of sarcasm as I sit on the sofa cushion next to him. He knows I’d do any of those with no problem at all. I often bring my laundry over to do and I hardly have enough for a full load, so Jack and I wash ours together anyway. His mom refused to do laundry for him after he turned sixteen. She was tired of the stinky wet swimsuits and his foul socks. I don’t blame her . She showed us how to do laundry once and then left us pretty much on our own. There was only one incident involving a red in the whites and we’ve been doing it awesomely ever since. Also, I love making lasagna and watching LOTR. So, maybe he isn’t that mad at me after all.
“My truck needs a wash. And maybe a back rub,” he adds.
“Don’t push it.”
“Fine. Tell me how stuff’s going? The last text I got was on Thursday that said you were coming over Saturday but not to make me breakfast. I’m hungry and here you are… Spill.” By ‘stuff’ I know he actually just wants to know how things are going between me and Brooke.
“Things are… fantastic. Brooke is amazing. She’s so sweet and full of life, but smart and down to earth. We have so much fun. She takes me on these incredible dates.” I could talk all day and not say enough about how great she has been.
“You know I have to ask, I am your best friend and a guy. How are things… in the bedroom?” Jack rudely inquires.
“No way! I don’t kiss and tell! I’m offended. Also, there’s nothing to tell.” I shrug.
“Wait, there isn’t? You haven’t? What are you waiting for, marriage?” Jack asks in surprise.
“No. Oh my god, I cannot talk to you about this. This is so embarrassing,” I insist. My blush proves my point.
“Em, who else are you going to talk to?” He appeals. “Relax. I can help. Just tell me everything , spare no detail,” he says with a lecherous grin.
“Gross, Jack!” I poke his exposed armpit and he squirms away. “No, forget it, I can’t talk about it. Tell me what’s going on with you? How’s school? Did you finish your paper?”
“School is school. I did finish it, that was last week. The grades were posted yesterday, got an A, naturally. So you’re going to a Halloween party tonight? Where?”
“Well done. Yeah, Brooke talked me and Morgan into it. It’s Morgan’s roommate’s friend, she invited us to the club he bartends at, Ubiquitous. What are you doing? Want to come?” I inquire curiously.
“I can’t come anyway. Who will hand out candy and scare all the neighborhood kids if not me?” Jack asks rhetorically. “Who is Morgan again?”
“Brooke’s friend, I told you about her. Maybe it’s time to pass the reins to Tommy,” I suggest.
“No, he doesn’t appreciate the terror on their faces like I do. It would be such a waste. Plus he hates to run and I find chasing them is crucial,” he says since
rely.
“Ah, yes. It’s a wonder anyone even comes here anymore. So what are you dressing up as this year?” It’s typically something from a horror movie.
“Thin man. Are you dressing up? Is that pile of stuff on my couch Halloween related or are you finally running away to join the circus?”
“Ha ha. Yes, I’m dressing up. I rented a costume from that store on Goodworth. The circus will never fully appreciate my version of cartwheels, so I have crossed them off my list,” I tell him insolently.
“Maybe because your version of cartwheels is mostly you falling over. So what are you going to be?”
“Um.. don’t laugh, okay? Promise,” I say nervously.
“Yeah, right,” he says. Of course not, it’s Jack. What was I thinking?
“Fine. Ugh. I’m going as Cinmmmnnmm,” I mumble into my palm.
“Cinnamon? The spice or the stripper?” Jack asks with interest.
“No, not cinnamon,” I answer with a sigh. He’s going to laugh at me . “Cinderella.”
Jack’s face morphs from surprise to humor in seconds. He’s definitely laughing at me. Jerk.
“Are you serious? You? The girl that is never even slightly girly is going as a princess? That’s hilarious.”