Page 54 of Sol
“Absolutely.”
“I’d just like to talk. That’sall.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “We have a lot to talkabout.”
We both looked around. “I think the coast is clear,” shesaid.
“Why don’t I let you go first? I’ll follow. That way we won’t be seen together.” That way I could watch her cuteass.
“Okay,” she whispered. Reaching up a finger, she ran the tip of it down my cheek. “See youtonight.”
Still, as I watched her dance down the hill, it was tempting to say, just this once, my God, couldn’t I get what I want? A naked night withher?
No.
My discipline clicked in place. I’d keep my vows. All of them: I swore to find her, I swore to keep her safe, and now I swore I wouldn’t be with her until it wasreal.
She was testing me, though. More than any test a teacher would give was the one she gave me outside of class. The one asking me to find all the places that would make her writhe inpleasure.
* * *
When I rangthe bell of her apartment at eight o’clock that night, showered, shaved, and clean, holding a bouquet of white Gerbera daisies and a bottle of Rioja, she buzzed me in immediately. I was still getting used to these late hours in Spain. Restaurants didn’t even open for dinner untilnine.
I climbed the four flights of stairs to her attic apartment, and knocked on her heavy wooden door decorated with black iron fittings. She wrenched it open and stood before me wearing a sundress with a neckline cut down so I could see her bellybutton.
Oh jeez, keeping my vow would be really, really hard, when temptation was righthere.
She lifted up her face, and I kissed her. I wasn’t gonna take any kiss with her for granted. This one was sweet and slow, eyes dialed into each other. As I awkwardly wrapped my arms around her, arms laden, I learned that the navy blue dress wasbackless.
Double fuckme.
This woman would be my toughest challenge. “Hi,” Isaid.
“Hi.” Then she gave me the full-on Dani smile, wide and open-hearted, and said, “Come onin.”
I handed her the flowers and stepped inside. “These are so pretty!” she said, and went to find a vase. Quiet, old jazz played behind her. I liked it. I liked the way her long skirt swished around her ankles, draping to the floor, like it had a mind of itsown.
“I brought you a red wine,” I called, as I peered out every window, checking for danger.Damn habits. “I didn’t know which one to pick, so I stood in the store until I saw someone else buy one, and then bought the sameone.”
She emerged with the flowers in a hand-painted pitcher and two wine glasses. “That’s actually a great way of choosing awine.”
So. Much. Skin showing. All the way down her front. Her little tits were covered, but everything else? Not somuch.
Damn.
I set the bottle on the counter. “Are men allowed to pourwine?”
“Yep.” She handed me a corkscrew. “I hope you like atortilla.”
I cocked my head to the side, as I cut off the foil on the wine, latching onto the distraction so I didn’t embarrass myself with a hard-on. “Sure.” Was that what we were having fordinner?
She giggled. “Not a flour tortilla. A Spanishtortilla. It’s an omelet withpotatoes.”
“Oh, okay. Soundsgood.”
With a pop, I managed to get the cork out and poured us two glasses of wine. We sat at the tiny table in her kitchen, set for two, with the omelet and a salad and some freshbread.
She and I gathered at the table to enjoy a simple meal together. We hadn’t done this since we were kids. We’d never done it just the two of us. I could do this the rest of mylife.
