Page 15 of My Sweet Cherry
“Do you come here a lot?” Beth asked, looking around the diner while she took a bite out of her burger. I shrugged but shook my head, becoming less interested in the fries and half-eaten burger on my plate.
“Not really. Only on occasion.” I thought about the selection of pie flavors listed on the menu that I had never tried but they were apparently known for. “Bringing you to try their cherry pie, which is supposedly pretty great, felt like a good occasion.”
She narrowed her eyes at me while she ate a fry. When she chewed, she pursed her lips like she was deep in thought. Then she swallowed and laced her fingers together, laying her hands on the table. “Okay, I have a question.”
Before I could urge her on, suddenly more than curious what question had her face twisted up like that, we were interrupted. “Did you two save any room for dessert?” the waiter asked, eyeing our still-unfinished meals.
“I think we’re really just here for the dessert,” I said. “We’ll take two slices of cherry pie, and maybe bring me one more to go.” Beth giggled when I ordered extra pie, already craving it the next day.
“I’ll be right back with that.” He walked away, already promising to interrupt us again in a few minutes, but I was dying to hear Beth’s question.
I pushed my plate to the side and leaned on my elbows. “What were you going to ask me?”
Her eyes got wider, and she rolled her lips together. “It’s silly. I kinda don’t know if I want to ask it now.”
“Oh, come on. I dare you.” She stared at me like she was incapable of pulling her gaze away. “Ask me anything.”
“Okay fine.” Beth looked around like she was making sure we wouldn’t get interrupted. “Are you really rich?”
I laughed. I don’t know what I had been expecting her to ask, but that wasn’t it. For most around here, it was somewhat common knowledge that my family was well off. Who told her? I shook my head. “No, I’m not,” I said when the waiter returned, setting plates and a to-go box in front of us. “But my dad is,” I finished when he nodded briefly and walked away. Beth gasped.
“You don’t seem like it.” Her fingers twirled around each other, and I imagined the nerves in her stomach were doing the same thing. When she noticed my staring, she snatched her fork from the table and pulled one of the dessert plates toward her.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, doing the same. The sweet scent drifted from the plate and made my mouth water. When she licked her lips and hummed, my mouth watered even more.
Beth waved her fork when she talked, apparently forgetting about the cherry filling about to drip from the end of it. “I just mean that you’re, like, different from what I think really rich people would be like. You’re nicer.” She paused, eating the bite and moaning her approval. “And you know where to get really good pie. I don’t think rich people know where to get good pie. They knowpeoplewho know where to get good pie.”
She giggled at her assumption, clearly amused with herself. Then she stopped suddenly and looked at me, locking her stare on mine and taking another bite. When her eyes flickered shut, it made my stomach flip, and I started to picture other ways to get her to make the same face.
“Does your dad know where to get good pie?” she finally asked, like she had been turning the thought over in her mind between nibbles. I threw my head back and laughed at the cherry-coated innocence that drifted from her question.
“Where do you think I learned about Hank’s?” I winked, and she scrunched her nose like she was considering if she accepted the answer before her lips broke in a grin. “It’s good, isn’t it?” I was glad it lived up to the hype.
Beth nodded. “It’ssogood.” She took the last bite, looking at the crumbs on her plate like she might lick them up. “I take back what I said about rich people not knowing where to find good pie.”
“Thanks for buying me dinner,” Beth said. I stood slightly behind her while she unlocked the door to her room. Her hands shook slightly, and the key rattled against the lock. She hadn’t seemed nervous at dinner. What changed?
“It was my pleasure, cherry.” The deep pink that colored her cheeks when I said it was worth every penny it cost. I’d take her to any restaurant she wanted if I could watch her blush like that after dessert.
When she opened the door, she turned back to look at me and licked her lips. “Do you want to come in?” she asked, nodding behind her as if to clarify what she meant. “My roommates aren’t here.”
“I’d love to,” I said, lifting a brow and guiding her into her own room. Her mouth hung open with each step backward she took,but her eyes got darker, even as she turned on the light, revealing an abundance of purple blankets and pillows. I bit back a small laugh, suddenly interested in seeing how Beth looked against the purple blankets on the bed. “When will your roommates be back?”
I put my hand on Beth’s waist, gently tugging her toward me. She drifted weightlessly, her eyes never leaving mine. “Not for a few hours.” Her voice was light, and the nerves that had been vibrating through her earlier were less detectable until she lifted her hand and it shook. She placed it on my chest.
“Good,” I said, watching her tongue glide along her bottom lip. “Because I’ve been looking forward to this since we left the restaurant.” Her eyes got wide just before my lips captured hers and then her body relaxed. The tension in her muscles slipped away while she melted against me.
When I brushed my tongue along her lip, she parted them, and I tasted dessert mixed with her cherry lip balm. It was sweet—almost as sweet as the whimper she made when I weaved my fingers into her hair and held her face closer to mine, and I kissed her deeper. I became desperate to taste every sweet exhale, and I wanted to memorize the way her lips almost quivered.
A gasp broke from between our mouths when I lifted her, carrying her the few steps to her bed and gently laying her on her back. I was right: the sight of Beth draped on her bed was enough to make my pants feel tighter and my self-control feel thinner. The purple sheets were the perfect contrast to make her green eyes brighter. I crawled onto the bed after her, and it squeaked when it dipped beneath our weight.
Beth arched her back when I kissed her again, and she shivered when I ran my fingers down the length of her side. I imagined the goosebumps that probably lingered behind mytouch. She kissed me back until her hands flattened against my chest and she pushed.
“Wait, hold on,” she whispered, turning and looking away from me. Her muscles flexed, and I sat up.
“What’s wrong?”
“I… haven’t ever done this before.” Beth covered her face with her hands, but the almost-purple blush peeked from beneath her fingers.
