Smiling, I look up at him and say, “Thank you. You look—youarevery handsome, Andy.” A blush creeps up my neck to my cheeks, and the only thing that makes me feel better about it is Andy’s matching rosy cheeks. He helps me into my seat then fixes the collar of his shirt as he walks around the truck, mumbling something to himself.
When he gets in the driver’s seat, he’s seemingly back to his old self, but I still feel butterflies in my stomach. When he turns on the car, Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” is coming through the speakers.
“You’re a Taylor fan?” I look over at him, amazed and smiling because he just keeps surprising me.
“No, but you are,” he says this as he takes my hand and brings it to his lips. They leave the softest kiss on the backs of my fingers. I feel breathless already and he hasn’t even kissed my lips yet.
He’s playing this song because he remembered when I mentioned in passing to a customer last week that I’d enjoyed the latest Taylor Swift album.
“You really pay attention to everything, don’t you?” My hand is still in his, on the center console, and he’s drawing circles on my knuckles with his thumb.
“I pay attention toyou, Lainey.” And then the dimple is there and I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch it. Kiss it. Lick it.
Say whaaaaaaat?!? I’ve never licked a person before. Where did that come from?
“Ummm. So… where are we going?” I ask as I rub my palm on my dress.
Am I sweaty? Ugh.
“Not too far. Just to Bay Harbor.” He’s so calm that it actually aggravates me more. It’s like I’m the only one affected by even the thought of tonight. And, I keep thinking about how he said he wants to kiss me. God, I hope he actually does.
The drive is about 20 minutes, we spend it listening to Taylor Swift, which isn’t helping my lovey dovey feelings for Andy at all. I am very affected by music, and by the time “You Belong with Me” comes on I feel like I might explode.
We finally arrive at the restaurant and I’m snapped out of my dimple-licking fantasies by the jingling keys as Andy shuts the truck off. The place right on the water and the sun is slowly setting. Dinner is perfect. Andy and I talk about our favorite customers from the past week, books we’ve read, favorite movies, music. It’s all very typical first date conversation. He still doesn’t share too much about his family or his friends, so I don’t press him on it. I share my plans with him to take a semester off and go study abroad before claiming my major at NYU in a year or two, and he seems genuinely excited for me.
After dinner, we walk down the street to the theater. There’s a production of Romeo and Juliet. Andy holds my hand the entire first act and during the second he puts his arm around the back of my seat, that thumb working overtime on drawing circles on the back of my neck. I have goosebumps all over. I can’t wait for this play to end, so Andy can kiss me again. I'm so restless I'm afraid he can feel the jitteriness of my limbs and how I'm having a hard time taking full breaths.
Finally, the play ends. It's lovely and beautiful, of course, I just can't focus on anything but him and the overwhelming need for him to touch me more. We walk back to his truck hand-in-hand. “One more stop,” he says, looking over at me with a shy smile on his gorgeous face. “It’ll be quick. It just might be a little too far to walk in heels.” We get into the truck and drive five blocks down the street. His thoughtfulness about my footwear sends that funny feeling back to the center of my stomach.
He pulls up to a cafe with one large sign reading ‘Gelato’ and another flashing the word ‘OPEN,’ which is surprising considering it’s 9:45 pm. He jogs around the truck to help me down, smiling as he bites his lower lip.
My heart is beating so fast, knowing he’s about to help me down from his truck since I almost landed on my face last time, thanks to these heels.
He opens my door and when he puts both hands around my waist, I put my arms around his neck and just before my feet touch the ground, I push myself right up against him. Getting out of his truck is now a full contact sport. Our bodies are touching everywhere.
I hear him let out a sharp breath. His eyes are closed and when he opens them, my gaze meets his. I lift my chin and part my lips. “Lainey…” and hearing him whisper my nickname does me in. I reach up and brush our lips together. “Lainey…” he whispers again.
I let out a slow breath before working up the nerve to say “Andy, please kiss m-“
His lips are all over mine, soft and sweet. He nips at my bottom lip and I instinctively open up for him letting my tongue brush against his. My hands are in his hair now and his are on my hips, my waist, my back. His touch is soft but firm and everywhere he touches feels like warm, dripping honey. I never want to stop kissing him. Never want to not have his hands on me.
Our kiss becomes more intense, and I need to catch my breath. He seems to sense it and briefly breaks from kissing my lips to nip at my jaw and my neck. When he licks my earlobe I let out an embarrassingly loud gasp/moan combination. My grip tightens on his shoulders and I’m immediately hot and tingly all over. I arch my body into his trying to get even closer. Somehow I need more.
“Lainey,” he whispers a third time. He brushes his nose against mine, our hearts beating together, a million miles a minute.
One more gentle kiss on my lips, then one on the tip of my nose.
“Andy?” I close my eyes and wait for his response.
“Yes, my sweet girl.” I swoon. I melt. I disintegrate into the atmosphere, nothing but sparkly bits of glitter floating in the spring air.
“I’m out of breath. You’ve left me breathless. Are you happy now?”
I feel his shoulders shake as a deep chuckle escapes him and my heart does about seventeen backflips at the sound.
“You have no idea how happy I am right now. No idea.”
I open my eyes and see that his are now closed. Our foreheads come together. The way he’s smiling, it’s as if literal joy is written all over his face.
