Page 43 of Last Letters to Ara
“My hair is too heavy to put it in a bun the normal way.”
“Your hair is beautiful. And… you missed one.” I’m locked in place by his stare, as he grabs a loose strand and deftly twists it around the knot. I close my eyes as his fingers trail down my ear and across my jaw to my chin. “Now, let’s go destroy our bowels.”
I laugh, grateful to be extinguished from the heat that has the power and temperature to burn me to the ground. Theo grabs my hand, tugging me inside.
“Can you read this one?” Theo teases as we have a look at the menu.
I dig my elbow into his ribs with a smile as I order my usual with a frozen Baja Blast and extra hot sauce. Theo follows suit and we grab a table in the far back corner, Theo sitting across from me as we wait for our number to be called.
“I can honestly say that I’ve never taken a girl on a date to Taco Bell.”
It piques my interest. I can’t help it. “Wheredoyou take girls on dates?”
Theo lifts a brow.
“Youbrought it up.” I defend myself. “And as your non-platonic date, I’m allowed to ask.”
He smirks. “I haven’t been on a date in....a while. So, I suppose the answer to your question would be nowhere.”
Interesting. “Where did you take girls before?”
“Someone is awfully curious tonight.” Another half smile graces those lips as his eyes drift to mine, currently being chewed between my teeth. “Since most of them were usually more interested in the place rather than me, definitely not Taco Bell.”
“Clearly, they had bad taste, because this is by far the best date I’ve ever been on, real or not real.”
“Ara, this is very real.” Before I can delve into what exactly he means by that, they call our number and Theo stands to collect our food. There is a pull forming between us, becoming so strong neither of us will be able to ignore it for much longer.
My thoughts are still wreaking havoc on me by the time Theo deposits our food onto the table. “I’m sorry, but this is so much better than whatever that squishy shit was on my plate.”
Theo laughs. “Do you want to know what it was?”
“Hit me.”
“It was essentially a sack of pig’s blood, but they call it a sausage. It’s considered a French delicacy.”
Horror. That’s undiluted horror that I feel. “That’s the grossest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Why do you think I saved you from yourself?”
“I was committed, too.”
He laughs. “I know you were.”
“Well, thanks for saving my ass.”
“Any time. That’s what non-platonic friends are for.”
• • •
After we come to a stop in front of my place, Theo opens my car door for me yet again. Both of us are quiet as we start up the stairs, my nerves off the charts. We’re about to have a fucking doorstep moment. There is so much tension rolling between us, you could cut it with child-safe scissors.
The panic subsides as his eyes run over my face, my exposed neck, and land on the jacket I made him which still rests on my shoulders, where he placed it after my Baja Blast gave me a shiver. They turn to embers and drift lower, the fire in my veins following their path.
Theo’s eyes make it back up to mine, and buried beneath the desire and want is a simple question. Captured by his stare, if he holds me hostage any longer, I will ask him to cross this threshold and take us straight to the finish line.
It’s easy to set being platonic aside for one night to enjoy each other’s company, but taking things to a physical level? There is no coming back from that. It could jeopardize what we’ve built.Icould jeopardize what we’ve built. Where would it leave us? I open my mouth to ask him exactly that, but before I can get any words out, he closes his eyes, releasing me.
Theo leans in, kissing me softly on the forehead. “Goodnight, Ara.”
