Page 78 of Kissing is the Easy Part
Without me needing to ask, he presses Replay on the screen.
We’re obviously soulmates.
* * *
We sit down in the museum café for Sean’s hourly caffeine fix. A woman at the next table is desperately trying (and failing) to keep her two kids under control. One of them is banging his toy horse on the table, while the other is drawing and tossing crayons in every direction. When both start screaming, Sean stills for a second before he lifts his coffee.
Of course he won’t stare; that’s him being nonchalant and sexy as usual.
The mom grabs an empty water bottle from her bag and tries to open it with one hand while her other hand keeps the crayons from hitting the floor.
I lean across and catch her eye. “Hi, need some help?”
“Actually, yeah, I was hoping to get some water, but they’re having a rough day.”
“I’ll get it for you,” I say. “And if you need anything else from the café, let me know.”
Her face softens with relief. “Thanks. You’re such a sweetheart.”
My mom calls me sweetheart, too, but she’s never flustered like this in public. To her, she’s an executive first, a wife second, and a mom third, and she gets everything done right. I don’t mind the order, but I sometimes wish the percentages were weighted a little differently.
“Do you want to wait for me here?” I ask Sean.
He sets his coffee cup down, finished. “Let’s meet at the gift shop later. There’s something I want to get.”
* * *
Sean examines the stone and mineral collection. After paying for his purchase, he borrows a pen from the cashier and writes. The cashier says something to him, and he smiles. It’s the detached kind he forces out to fit in, but when he sees me, he smiles with the edge of his eyes crinkled up. The kind he reserves for me.
People like him because he’s smart and good looking, but Sean doesn’t do the wholenice to everyonething. Although polite and respectful, he’s always a little aloof. When he chooses to open up, it’s because he decides to truly let someone in.
I’m not some random person getting the same treatment as everyone else; I’ve earned it, unlocked a level few get to reach.
I wander over to the postcard section and pick one with an octopus (it’s such an intelligent species, and it even has mood swings), then write him a quick note.Please remember this day with a smile and know that once upon a time, you made a girl ridiculously happy.
Sean catches up to me and hands me a small paper bag with scribbled words on top. “Please don’t laugh.”
To the mysterious girl who fell from the sky: you hit me harder than a meteor.Inside the bag is a chunk of fake black stone.
“You’re so cheesy.”
Iadoreit.
Meteors are a girl’s favorite kind of rock.
* * *
After the museum, I drive us to a pristine lake with a hiking trail around it. The drizzle has finally stopped, but the sky remains a soft gray, with sunlight beginning to peek through. The view is glorious. We complete the walk and get back to my car, and I pop the trunk, taking out the picnic basket I prepared for a late lunch. I made it myself—sandwiches with truffle cream, chilled Mariage Frères tea, and Valrhona chocolate-covered strawberries.
“Thanks for putting so much thought into this.” Sean eats the last strawberry I feed to him. He tilts his head back, letting the sunlight fall on his face.
I collect the plates and put everything back in the basket. “Are you bored? Wanna get going?”
“No, I like it here.”
“Don’t you want to do something fun?”
He rolls over and props himself on his elbows. “Thereissomething fun I have in mind. Lots of high-school couples are doing it every day, and I’ve always wanted to do it with you.”
