Page 29 of Bartholomew
Faster.
My breasts pressed to his chest, his arm pulling me in tighter.
Faster.
Until he pulled back.
Slower.
His lips softer.
Slower.
His forehead resting on mine.
Slower.
His smile felt against my lips.
Slower.
“What is your favorite snack?” he whispered out of nowhere.
“Huh?” I questioned. I had no brain cells left in my mind and he wanted to talk about snacks?
“What is your favorite snack?” he asked again, slower.
“You,” I answered without thought. Immediately, pulling back with a gasp of shock. What had I just said? “Oh Lord! That’s not what I mean!” I balked, pulling away from him. I needed distance.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he chuckled, pulling me in close and kissing my forehead in a remarkably sweet and unexpected gesture.
“Let me rephrase. What is your favorite food snack?” That chuckle of his was endearing and enticing all in the same breath.
“Um, I typically snack on fruit,” I answered honestly.
“Nope, unacceptable. What is your favorite thing to snack on? Not what do you normally snack on. I want to know what food, when you eat it, feeds your soul and comforts you,” he doubled down, not letting me go.
His hands moved up and down my arms in a soothing gesture. One I had never felt before.
“Loaded popcorn,” I answered with hesitancy, biting my lower lip in embarrassment. Not that I could be much more embarrassed and flushed than I currently was.
He pulled back, looking at me with wide eyes.
“Explain. Now. Loaded popcorn? What is this witchery?” he questioned with dramatic excitement.
“It’s not witchcraft,” I argued with a roll of my eyes.
“Whatever it is, do we have the ingredients for it?” he asked with urgency.
“Yes, we do, but —” I began, but he was not about to let me speak.
“To the kitchen!” he shouted, taking me by the hand and pulling me towards the kitchen. “You simply must make it and we must eat it. Immediately.”
“What about the game?” I argued between giggles.
“The game I think will recommence shortly. For now, it’s off to the kitchen we go to make this decadent loaded popcorn you speak of. That’s what I want tonight. Time with you. And loaded popcorn. Can’t forget the popcorn.” He shot me a wink and made off towards the kitchen, me tagging along behind him.
“So, what is this loaded popcorn? Explain it to me like I’m five,” Ollie asked, jumping up onto the countertop as I assembled the dish. As the popcorn popped away in the microwave, I gathered the large bowl and fixings for easy assembly.
