“I think I’m growing on you a full nine inches,” he retorts.
I giggle, and without notice, he hoists me up and throws me over one shoulder. I can feel he is carrying something in his other arm. Damn, I love his arm strength.
It’s a few steps, then he twirls me around for effect before plopping me down on a spot. I can feel him step away for a few seconds, and I wait, noticing the somersault in my belly and the way my pulse has changed in the last few minutes; it’s eagerness.
His fingers feel like feathers, yet they leave a gentle imprint on my shoulders as he half turns me in one direction before his digits sneak under the cloth to untie my blindfold. “Open your eyes, Sprinkles,” he whispers as the fabric falls.
It only takes the flick of my eyes opening and two blinks for me to be awestruck. I’m overwhelmed about where to look because there is the backdrop of the lake and woodlands below since we seem to be up on a hill, and right here in front of me where Connor must have been earlier because there’s a blanket and a few lanterns. I notice the box that keeps food warm and realize that must have been in the back of his car the whole time.
“Oh.” It softly escapes my lips before I turn my head to find that Connor has been watching me this whole time, with his foot on a log and face stoic.
“Uh.” He shyly strokes his jawline with his thumb. “Doesn’t this place seem familiar? Although, last time we might have stayed in my car.”
Looking around, Iknewthis place was familiar. I know why too. A profoundness hits me, and I do my best to keep it in by biting the inside of my lip. “You mean, do I remember being here at night with you once?” In truth, this brings up mixed emotions, and I’m not entirely sure if this is the place for us to be.
A fondness hits him, and his head tilts low while his eyes perk up. “Yeah.” His voice is soft. It seems he chose this place for a reason.
A silence floats between us because we don’t need many words in relation to the significance of this place. It was a beautiful night, but it started our years of hate too. I glance around again at the view. I think I’ll choose to remember the good, which is why I turn back to him with a small half-smile.
“I haven’t even pulled out the big guns yet,” he says.
I cross my arms. “Oh yeah? What might that be?”
He indicates with his head to go sit on the blanket, and I easily follow instruction.
He is busy grabbing items from the food box. “We’re not really supposed to light anything that burns here, but I’m sure the forest ranger will let me off when I get him season tickets.”
I can’t even tell if he’s joking. My eyes trail down to see he is holding a small tinfoil-wrapped casserole dish, and it looks familiar, the writing on the top anyways. “What is that?”
“My gamechanger for tonight.”
“Leave it to you to think food can sway me.”
Connor takes a seat next to me, with our elbows grazing, and he hands me the box. “You’re mom’s famous mac ‘n’ cheese.”
“Really?” I’m completely thrown off because it’s such an original and sweet gesture.
He nods, with his subtle smirk permanent, because he’s satisfied with my facial expressions. “I know how much you love that stuff, and since you’re not living at home anymore, I figured you might miss it. I asked for her help for dinner, and yeah, the squeal and aws nearly burst my eardrums.”
My cheeks hurt from how much I’m smiling. I can picture it all in my head. “I bet. She probably went overboard too.”
“Oh, she did,” he confirms. “We also have zucchini pancakes. There is no logic to the menu other than she said they were your favorites.”
It’s thoughtful that he reached out to her.
A silence takes over as our eyes catch and silly looks grace our faces. I decide to pipe up and admit the truth. “You might get points for how this night is starting.”
“Does that hurt? Giving me a compliment?” He nudges my shoulder with his.
I touch my arm, then my stomach, followed by my legs. “Everything seems to be okay.”
“That sucks, I was kind of hoping you needed me to tend to your wounds.”
Reaching out, I hook a finger under his chin to bring his mouth in my direction. Our foreheads touch and our eyes connect. I could kiss him, but I enjoy keeping him captivated like this. He’s partly in suspense if I’ll bring my lips to his or if this location is a good idea at all.
Dance has been the passion of my life. The best dance, however, is the one where Connor and my lips trace and brush one another’s, with our breathing entwined, while our noses nuzzle the lines of our cheeks. The most unchoreographed dance is my favorite, and that’s him.
“You’re making it hard, Connor Spears,” I rasp. “I’m supposed to make you workreallyhard.”
