“Pick the right song, and I will,” she adds playfully.
“Challenge accepted.”
Laughter and easy conversation fill the rest of the night. After washing my hands, I forgot to roll my sleeves down, and her eyes light up at the sight of the tattoo sleeve on my right arm. It’s realism work, adorned with various flowers, cameras, and film. I share the inspiration behind it, leaving out how I got it after Aileen and I split. I didn’t ask for much in the divorce, but I wanted our wedding camera. We couldn’t afford a photographer when we eloped, so she found a vintage camera at the thrift store for us to take turns snapping pictures throughout the day. I fell in love with the fact that a memory lives forever if you photograph it. Whether there’s a good or bad memory behind it, someone can capture the moment with a photo and pass it on forgenerations. I started collecting cameras and photography eventually became a hobby.
We exchange stories, and what she refers to as the egg incident comes up. As embarrassing as it was, she couldn’t stop laughing while trying to tell the story. Then there’s two of us laughing uncontrollably. She’s moved closer to me on the couch since we started watching a show centered on people bringing their partners to the States to get married. I’ve never seen it before now, but I’m intrigued. When the show ends, I look at my watch, and it’s getting late.
“I know we’ve got work in the morning,” I say reluctantly.
She shrugs her shoulders and says, “I don’t get a lot of sleep, so I don’t mind. Plus, aren’t you supposed to find a song to convince me to dance with you? You guaranteed it. I’m waiting.”
I nod. “You are right. Let me get to work.”
I stride over to my record player and shuffle through my vinyl, seeking the perfect song to get her to dance with me. After a few moments, a purple cover catches my eye, and I smile to myself as I retrieve it from the storage rack. I keep it from her line of sight, hoping to surprise her. I removeSmokey Robinson’sWhere There’s Smoke...record and set it on the slip mat—carefully moving the needle to playCrusin, a sure-fire track to get her to dance with me before she heads home.
I turn the player on and grin at the crackling before the song starts. I let the intro fill the space before I face her, an amused look on her face. Aware of my obvious victory, I reach my hand out for her to join me. She chuckles as she stands, taking my hand and I lead her to my kitchen, where we slow dance. She avoids eye contact and can’t stop blushing. Her beauty is remarkable, and I can’t take my eyes off her. It's intoxicating when she eventually meets my gaze, but it doesn’t last long because she shifts her focus to my lips.
“Selah?”
“Hmm?” she asks, not taking her eyes off my mouth.
“I reallywant to kiss you.”
“Then do it,” she breathes.
I stifle a laugh, in fear of ruining the moment.
You don’t have to tell me twice.
I take her lips in a gentle kiss that grows more desperate by the second. She parts her lips, granting me entry, and I devour her. Soft moans escape her, encouraging me to continue, and I do. Kissing her is dangerous and addictive. I forget to breathe, eager to indulge in all that is her. She sucks on my lip, and I groan in response. If she asked, I would gladly take her to my room. I slow the kiss down to take a breath, and that’s enough time for clarity to sink in. I part my lips to speak, and she beats me to it.
“I-I should get home. You know, work in the morning,” she pants.
She walks over to the entryway to grab her boots. I take a second to process what she said as she sits on the stool to slip them on. I nod, understandably.
“Uh-yeah. I’ll walk you.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s just an elevator ride,” she says with a nervous chuckle as she stands.
“I’m not letting my date walk home alone. Even if you live downstairs,” I say, grabbing my keys.
“Alright. If you say so, but no seducing,” she adds with a pointed finger, biting back her smile.
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” I assure as I open the door and we step into the hall. I kept my word and walked her home. Once I get back to my place, I’m getting ready for bed when my phone chimes with a text. It’s from Selah.
Selah
Smokey? Really?
You knew exactly what you were doing.
Well played lol
Me
Don’t be like that.
You challenged me.