Page 46 of The Dating Proposal
“It’ll be fun. It’s just a date. That’s all.”
But as he leaves, I’m not so sure that’s true any longer.
Or that I want it to be.
I spend more time than usual getting ready. I shave my legs and spread the softest strawberry lotion into my skin, thinking of how it would feel if Chris’s hands were the ones on my legs right now.
I tremble, picturing him kissing his way up my body. I blow out my hair, imagining his fingers twined through it.
I do my makeup as I listen to all my favorite songs, like “I’ve Got a Crush on You” and “Fly Me to the Moon.” It’s as if I’m living in the lyrics, wrapped up in the hope they promise. I find myself swaying to the words as I swipe on my blush, imagining Chris behind me, his arms around my waist as he peppers kisses on my neck and we lose ourselves to the music.
I dress in the outfit I modeled today on my video. An outfit that makes me feel pretty. Desired. Wanted.
And something more. Something new. Something I can’t quite place, so I stop trying.
I kiss my dog goodbye and head to a comedy club, where we’re checking out some up-and-coming comedians.
When I arrive, I see Chris waiting outside, wearing earbuds and lip-synching.
Nerves slam into me. All that warm fuzziness of my alone time flies away, and now I’m faced with the how much am I feeling dilemma. And can I handle it?
But before I have time to decipher the growth of my feelings, he spots me, smiles, and takes out the earphones.
“Rockabilly? Blues? Jazz?” I ask.
His lips tip up in a smile as he shakes his head. “A preview of my sister’s cast album recording for Crash the Moon. She sent me a cut of one of her songs.”
I make grabby hands. “Gimme.”
“Only if you promise to keep it top secret.”
“Swear on my love of Dior knockoffs I won’t say a word,” I say, crossing my heart over my Target top.
“In that case . . .” He hands me the earbuds, and I listen, my eyes widening as my ears fall in love with each gorgeous verse.
When the song is over, I bounce on the toes of my ankle boots. “It’s like listening to a Pink Floyd bootleg in the seventies. At least, I think that’s what it’s like. I was never a Pink Floyd fan. But my dad is. He had all these bootleg albums.”
Chris smiles. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say you’re not a Pink Floyd fan.”
“What? Is that a crime? Their music is too slow and druggy for me.”
“Pink Floyd is awesome. Every single song. I love Pink Floyd.”
“But see, you love everything. So based on that, it’ll never be fair for me to dislike anything, then.”
He laughs and loops an arm around me, guiding me into the club. “You’re a hoot. You know that, right?”
“I’m going to assume a hoot is the highest of compliments,” I say, raising my chin haughtily as we sit at a small table near the front.
He captures my jaw in his hand. “Hey.” His tone has shifted. It’s softer, but more urgent. “Is everything okay?” he asks intently.
I nod.
He dips his face to mine, capturing my lips in a chaste kiss that still manages to lick the flames inside me. “I needed to kiss you. I didn’t get to on the street.”
I sigh against his mouth. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Kiss me like that?”
He slides his thumb along my jaw. “Like it’s all I want to do?”
My heart executes a back handspring in my chest. Holy shit. I didn’t know my heart knew that move. It nailed the landing too. “Yeah. Just like that,” I say with a dopey grin.
“Because kissing you is all I want to do. I can’t get enough.” He drops his mouth to mine and gives me a brand-new kind of kiss.
It’s the kind that makes the world fall away, that leaves me powerless to resist, helpless to do anything but be consumed by it. Nothing else matters, and the kiss is all there is and all I’ll ever want.
Until it becomes more than a kiss. It becomes imbued with emotions.
“I need to tell you something,” I whisper when we break apart, feeling emboldened now.
“It better be good.”
I touch his cheek, tracing his stubble. “You’re getting under my skin. I can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop wanting to see you.”
The smile that spreads on his face is vulnerable and wildly happy too. “In that case, you should keep seeing me. Because I can’t get you out of my head either. Or my heart.”
I’m giddy, bubbling inside. “This is crazy, don’t you think? How this happened with us?”
He sighs happily. “I do think it’s crazy, but I also don’t. Mostly, I know I don’t want it to stop.”
