Page 60 of Sticky Fingers
I stop right before the last box, and I go down on one knee in front of it. Looking down, I place my hand right on the box’s latch, and then I look back up at Sonia.
“Maybe you’re crazy enough to risk a Picasso like this. Maybe you’re just trying to see how far I’m willing to take this.”
Reaching toward the fire, I grab a piece of wood and then place the burning end right over the box. It doesn’t take long for the flames to spread over the box, the wind carrying away the wisps of smoke as they climb up in the air.
“I guess I’ll never know, huh?” I finally say, getting to my feet and closing in on her.
“You’re the textbook definition of insane, Malcolm,” she breathes out. “The Picasso could be ruined right now…and even if it isn’t the Picasso…”
She raises one eyebrow at me, that teasing smile back on her lips, and says, “Who knows what kind of paintings you’ve just ruined.”
“As long as we’re not talking about the stickman drawings I did in preschool, I’m fine with it. I have an emotional attachment to those, you know?”
Stepping towards me, she lays one hand on my chest.
“I hope that’s not the only thing you have an emotional attachment to.”
Leaning in, one hand on the nape of her neck, I gently press my lips against hers.
“What do you think, Sonia?”
“I don’t wanna think.”
“Then don’t.”
We tumble onto the sand, devouring each other as the night falls around us, the flames casting long shadows over our naked bodies.
“I love you, Sonia,” I whisper into her lips as I hold her head, her legs still wrapped around my waist as she draws me in, her body as eager for mine as mine is for hers.
“And I love you, Malcolm Push,” she whispers back at me, the sound of her fast breathing making my heart grow tighter and tighter.
For the first time in my life, it doesn’t feel like I’m having sex.
It feels likeweare making love.
And that’s because, for the first time in my life, I’ve fallen for someone.
For the first time in my life, I’m in love.
