Page 69 of Fall With Me
“But you said tonight you wanted to go climbing.” I need a firm answer as to what he prefers.
“Yeah, tonight I want to get out and have fun, but that doesn’t mean I always need that. It’s nice to mix it up.”
“What I’m hearing is, you aren’t picky and whenever I plan our nights together, anything is fine.”
Our server brings our food—lasagna for Dawson and salmon for me. After he leaves, Dawson says, “Correct. I don’t care what we do as long as I’m with you.”
My hand, holding a forkful of food, pauses halfway to my mouth. “And you say your nickname doesn’t fit you.” I slowly shake my head at him, marveling at how sweet he is. “For the record, I feel the same. All I care about is you.”
“Does this mean I’ve finally surpassed Finn as your favorite Reed?”
I adore Finn, but Dawson’s the one I can’t stop thinking about. He’s the one whose hugs make my day better, whose laughter lifts my spirits, and whose company I crave. “Marginally. I think there’s a few things you can do to make the difference substantially larger.”
Dawson holds a bite of his lasagna out to me. Leaning forward, I wrap my fingers around Dawson’s, guiding the utensil to my mouth. Garlic, tomato, salty cheese, and spiced meat hit my taste buds and I let out a moan. “Oh, that’s good.”
“Yeah?” He raises a brow while cutting off another piece of lasagna. “If I give you another bite, does it help my score?”
I hold up my thumb and index finger, leaving a small space between them. “Tiny bit. I had something in mind that Finn can’t do,” I say, as delicious heat coats my stomach. Licking my lips, I stare at Dawson’s mouth. His full lips are straight, barely a hint of a cupid’s bow on his top lip.
A smile grows on Dawson’s face one millimeter at a time as he catches my hint. “How many is each one worth?”
I take a bite of my fish, forcing Dawson to wait for my answer—an answer I don’t have because he’s already won, but I don’t want to tell him. I’m enjoying our back-and-forth, this push-and-pull, pleasure at wanting to kiss but torture because of the wait. I settle on, “Five points per peck. Ten for a more lengthy kiss.”
Dawson’s irises shrink, his full-on gaze filled with heat. Heat so hot, my insides burn with his intensity. He swallows hard, then asks in a throaty tone, “And how many points do I need to surpass Finn?”
Do I go the nice route and tell him a low number, cheating myself out of a potential make-out session? Absolutely not. As my clients and Dawson like to remind me, I’m a witch and in this instance I’m channeling my evil behavior and lying to benefit myself. “A thousand points.”
He picks up his glass of water, chugging the contents like he’s parched. “Guess it’s a good thing we have all night, 007.By the time our date is over, Iwillbe ahead of Finn. I promise.”
Digging in my purse, I pull out the tube of lip balm I bought earlier this week. Waving it in the air, I say, “I’m ready. Bring it on.”
Dawson raises his hand, “Waiter! Can we get our check please?”
I point to my food. “I’m not done eating and neither are you.”
“You have until I’ve paid the bill then we’re leaving.” He shovels three huge bites into his mouth, demonstrating how serious he is.
I pick up my fork and follow suit. Who am I to stop Dawson from “earning” his place as the favorite guy in my life?
Chapter 32
Chloe
I’m glad the restaurant gave us those soft white mints with our check because the moment we get to the parking lot, Dawson pushes me up against the passenger side of the car. “Really, right here? Where anyone can see?”
Dawson nods, his gaze set on my lips. My stomach tightens at the same time flutters go wild.
“Yes,” he says, resting his hands on the top of the car behind me, trapping me between his arms. “It’s getting dark out and people can mind their own business.”
Pushing my palms flat against the car door behind me, I ask, “What about rock climbing?” I get out between stuttering breaths. I like being stuck by Dawson. Instead of feeling small or caged in, I feel safe, protected.
“We’ll get there.Eventually.”
My pulse races, anticipation making it pound faster and faster, as I’m surrounded by Dawson’s heated stare, his gorgeous brown eyes, his fresh, clean scent.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Dawson leans in closer, his mouth an inch from mine. “I haven’t exactly planned what our first kiss would be like, but considering the amount of points I need, I’m warning you, I’m skipping a few steps. Speak now if it’s too much.”
