Page 3 of Under The Cherry Blossoms
And just like that, the tension dissipates as we both share a soft laugh over the absurdity of ournervousness.
This one moment seems to bring us to our senses and we launch into conversation, talking about everything from our favorite music and foods (him: The Rolling Stones/pizza, me: Taylor Swift/lasagna) to our political beliefs (both of us: they’re all hopeless and we’re screwed). The night flies by in a blur of laughter, good alcohol and even better conversation. My heart ratchets up every time Ben smirks at me and while our conversation has been fun and easy for the most part, he has thrown enough suggestive comments my way for me to know that that mouth of his is trouble. The kind of trouble that makes my thighs clench inanticipation.
The check is being brought over before I know it and I can’t help wishing the night didn’t have to beover.
“How about we share an Uber home?” Ben asks as he pulls out his phone and brings up theapp.
“Perfect,” I reply, thinking how well this night has turned out and how grateful I am that I took the chance and didn’t chickenout.
By the time we have finished inside the restaurant, the Uber is outside waiting. Climbing in, we circle back to our heated discussion about the best movies of all time, both of us passionately defending ourchoices.
“Dirty Dancing is a classic. A true classic!” I exclaim. “There are millions, hell maybe even billions, of people who can quote it. Who can quote The BigLebowski?”
“Fuck it, Dude. Let’s go bowling,” Ben throws back atme.
Wait, what? Is he asking me out again? My eyes widen and I’m not really sure how to respond. His brown eyes are warm and a smile is playing on his full lips as he watches me, and suddenly I forget all about my pro Dirty Dancing arguments. Right now, the only thing I want to debate is his place ormine.
“The Big Lebowski.” This highly unromantic statement brings me back to earth with a crash, and I try to regain my wits and remember what he wassaying.
“That’s a quote from The Big Lebowski. So, you see, plenty of people can quote it.” He looks at me with a cocky little smirk that makes me want to roll my eyes.Smartass.
I look out the window as the car comes to a stop and realize we’vearrived.
“Consider yourself lucky we’re here,” I say as we climb out of the car. “I was just about to launch into a medley of all the hits from one of the most iconic soundtracks of all time. You know, from the best movie of all time.” He clutches his chest and pulls a face ofdevastation.
“Oh. No. However will I survive?” he retorts in a monotone voice. “I’m sure the bleeding ears would have beensomuch fun.” I laugh at his response, and am trying to come up with a smart comeback when he continues, “but we could always finish this next week? I’ve never had a girl serenade me before. I think youhaveto agree to see me again just so I can tick that off my bucketlist.”
I smile a huge, completely not-playing-it-coolsmile.
“I’d like that, let’s do it. Although, be prepared, because I am a truly horriblesinger.”
“I doubt anything your mouth does would be horrible,” Ben replies as he leans down, slanting his mouth over mine. Reaching up, he slides his hand into my hair and tugs firmly, repositioning my head so he is able to deepen the kiss. I feel a rush of heat spread through my body as his tongue wrestles with mine, and I can’t help but wonder if it will be as skilled when exploring other parts of my body. I feel myself get lost in Ben’s touch, the pull on my hair, the way his tongue slides against mine. This kiss is unlike any I’ve experienced before but also so familiar, as if I’ve been kissing this man all my life. Then, as suddenly as it started, the kiss is over and Ben is walking back toward the car. As he bends down to get in, he looks back and says, “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay? Now, head inside so I know you got insafely.”
I smile and retort, “Sobossy.”
And as I turn to unlock the door, I hear him reply, “You’ll get used toit.”
I roll my eyes and head inside with a smile on myface.
“Skye fucking Emery! Wakey wakey!”
I’m dragged ruthlessly from my slumbering oblivion by the sound of kitchen cupboards slamming and a screeching voice intent on rousing me awake. Refusing to give in to these terrorist tactics, I roll over and stick my head under my pillow. Cassidy will not be thwarted however, and the next thing I know she is body slamming me into the mattress with a maniacallaugh.
“Skyballs! C’mon! I need all the details! Did he pound your pussy? Batter dip the corn dog? Did you do the boom boom? Tell meeverything!”
I move the pillow away and throw a what-the-fuck look over myshoulder.
“Oh my god, Cass, what is wrong with you? Batter dip the corn dog? Seriously? And I want my key back, you jerk.” Her only response is a loud laugh which stops as suddenly as it started while she throws me her infamous puppy-dogeyes.
“Skye. I don’t mean to alarm you, but you have no food in the place. You need to take me out and feedme.”
Groaning, I crane my neck to see the alarm clock and note that it’s only 8:15 in themorning.
“Cassidy Jensen, I know for a fact that there is a kitchen full of food in there. And what the hell are you doing out of bed before 10am on a Saturdaymorning?”
“Nope, there’s only healthy shit in there, I want pancakes. And I’m up because my pathetic excuse for a best friend never messaged me last night to tell me how her date with the man-meat went. Now get your ass up, you’re taking me toMonroe’s.”
I stare at the ceiling, silently debating whether I want to humor her or kick her butt out when she makes the decision for me, lifting the mattress and watching as I tumble to the ground with a loud, “oomph.”
