Page 14 of More With You

Overwhelmed, I pull back, my eyes still closed. Focusing on my breaths, I let the thread of connection hold us together for a moment longer, but I can’t kiss him again. Not now, or I’ll never get to work. He’s not making it easy to say goodbye, though, as I feel his thumb graze my bottom lip. I want to take it in my mouth and taste it with my tongue, but I don’t. I can’t.

“I should go,” I whisper, my voice thick with desire. There’s no conviction in those three words.

“Can I see you tonight?”

I want to say yes, but I get off at ten, and the stink of cigarette smoke will follow me home. “Not tonight.” I open my eyes. “How about tomorrow? It’s my day off.”

“Perfect.” He smiles, the shine of his eyes reflecting my longing. “I’m off at eleven tomorrow morning. The perks of the early shift. Means we can spend the day together.” His thumb trails down to my chin, finally abandoning my flushed skin as he draws it away. “I’ll text you where to meet me.”

I swallow thickly. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Not if I see you in my dreams first,” he says with a smile. It’s another corny line, but, from him, it sounds like pure poetry.

BEN

They’re blue. Her eyes are blue. It sounds like such a simple color, but it’s not. They’re not an ordinary blue, if such a thing even exists, but a shade I couldn’t hope to replicate. A touch of gray, a hint of jade, delicate strokes of cerulean and sapphire and sky blue, with a few flecks of gold, and the tiniest dot of brown, for the perfect freckle in her left iris.

I found her. Or, maybe, she found me. Either way, it was worth the wait. My lips are still stinging from her kiss, in the best possible way. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should kiss her. She seemed pretty stunned after finding out who my family is, but that’s not so unusual. I just hope it’s not going to get in the way of us, because that woman is… like a rare Scotch. The kind you search the world decades for, just to have one sip and know you’re in rarefied air. That’s why I couldn’t help but kiss her. I needed to. I’ve been looking for her, not just this past week, but… perhaps forever.

I can still feel her body against mine, her breath against my lips, her arms around my neck, pulling me tighter. I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m lying in bed, begging for sleep so tomorrow can come quicker, or I can dream of her to resume where we left off. It won’t be the same, but maybe it’ll give me some ideas.

I could tell she was insecure about the way she was dressed, but when I was jogging along the beach, I thought she was a goddess. She looked absolutely perfect to me. The way the sunlight danced in her hair, bringing out every facet of color. The sheen on her skin, inviting me to touch her. The way she touched me, her fingertips grazing my ribcage when I whispered against her mouth. I thought I would burst. And the way her face felt in the palms of my hands, like the right puzzle pieces were matching up seamlessly: her cheeks so soft and warm, her lips slightly swollen after, her mouth parting slightly when I brushed my thumb against her lower lip.

I’m intoxicated by her. I can’t help it. I want to lay her down, naked, on my porch on a rainy Sunday, so I can paint the curves of her body and worship the canvases of her when she’s away from me. I want to dip my fingers in fresh honey and have her taste it, watching her tongue lick her bottom lip as she’s savoring the sweetness. I want this to be the summer of Summer, and I hope it never ends.

6

SUMMER

My phone buzzes on the bedside table like an angry hornet, dragging me out of a dream that I don’t want to end. Let’s just say, in my fantasy, the kiss with Ben didn’t end in the parking lot.

I fumble toward the vibrations, blinking blearily at the nautical-striped drapes. Hazy dawn filters through a crack in the center and I frown, wondering who the hell is trying to get in touch with me so early. The only people who would text me know I work late and am not exactly an eager rooster, crowing at the shift from night to daybreak.

My frown turns into a smile as, rubbing my eyes, I see the name. Ben. Suddenly alert, I open up the message. It’s short and to the point, but I guess I deserve it after my previous brief text. I still wonder what would’ve happened if he hadn’t turned up, but at least I don’t have to find out.

Meet me at the Bayou’s Bend parking lot. 10am. B.

There’s something off about the message, and it takes me a second to realize. Instead of thinking it through, I stretch out my sleepy fingers and start typing back.

I thought you worked the early shift and don’t get off until 11? I contemplate adding an “S” again, as a little inside joke. Deciding against it, my thumb hovers over the “x”. Is it too soon to add a kiss? I guess not, since I can still feel his actual kiss tingling my lips, though that might have more to do with the dream version of him, helping me replay the moment over and over. Dream Ben definitely didn’t hold back, and Dream Summer didn’t have a 2 ‘til 10 shift to get to.

I leave it without an “x” for now and snuggle back down into the mass of marshmallowy pillows that I can’t stop buying. What can I say? I like to be comfy, and a voracious reader should never be without extra pillows to prop them up when a book has gotten super juicy, as in, I’m going to read this until the sun comes up juicy.

The phone buzzes again, and my heart jumps. I almost knock the phone off the side of the bed in my rush to grab it and open the message.

There’s something you have to see. Trust me. 10am.

I’m usually a zombie after a long, adrenaline-fueled night at the casino, and my feet are still throbbing from wearing shoes with shitty arch supports, but his text is like digital caffeine, refreshing me in a heartbeat. Even if I hadn’t slept a wink, the idea of spending a whole day with Ben would’ve made me feel like I’d been comatose for two days straight. Plus, I’m not going to argue with an extra hour in his company.

I’ll be there, I text back, giving it a minute or two so I don’t seem too eager.

Lying there, I keep staring at the black screen for a while, in case he sends another message. A “looking forward to it,” or a winky face. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who uses that stuff, but who knows? He’s thirty-six, not sixty-three.

The screen stays dark, and I know I won’t be able to go back to sleep. My heart is already racing and it’s only 5:50. So, I have two choices: stay under the covers and toss and turn for a while or get my ass up and start my day a few hours early. Stretching out like a contortionist, groaning in pleasure as my tightened body loosens from my neck to my toes, I decide it might be nice to see the sunrise. After all, if Ben is an early riser, I’ll probably have to get used to being woken with the dawn.

Though I bet I can get him to stay in bed a while longer… A shy smile lifts the corners of my lips. I don’t exactly know if that’s where this is heading, but his kiss, his tongue, his touch seemed to be a pretty big indicator.

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