For a hot minute she looks like she might head-butt me but then she puts her head on my shoulder and lets me lead. I’m not sure which is the bigger achievement, that she didn’t fight, or that she’s letting me lead.
Dancing isn’t my strong suit. We’re mostly just swaying in the cool night air as I sing low in her ear under the stars.
This might be the happiest I’ve ever felt in all my life, but since I can’t remember the first time we met, I can’t say for sure. There’s something about holding Victoria in my arms that makes everything feel just right.
When the song finishes, I’m mildly pissed off at Nate Smith for not writing a longer song. I don’t want to stop dancing with Victoria, but I kiss her on the forehead and ask her if she’s down for dessert.
She paid for dinner. Something that made me feel kinda like shit, but she insisted her mom wanted to treat us both. Apparently her mom’s so excited she’s going out on a date she handed her cash to cover dinner and told her not to come back before ten.
The fact her mom’s so excited to get her out of the house for an evening suggests she doesn’t do it often, and while we’ve talked a little about her, most everything that comes out of her mouth is about Wyatt. She lives and breathes that kid.
Tonight is a treat for her, a night out without parental responsibilities, which tugs at something deep in my chest. She’s missed out on so much.
“Where do you want for dessert?”
“Have you tried a Zookie at Zoey’s pizza place in Marion?”
She makes yummy noises. “I see your Zookie and raise you a flight of crème brûlée.”
Huh. “I’m listening.” I walk her back to her side of the car.
“Mom said it’s incredible, and we should try it.”
Holding both my hands up, I give her my best stern face. “I’d never pick a fight with your mom.”
She laughs. “In that case, we’re going to ChopHouse Downtown.”
It’s not even a ten minute drive to the ChopHouse which makes me inexplicably sad. Holding her hand, singing while I drive, or making small talk lights me up inside. It’s not enough time with her. I want it all. I want every second with this woman.
We sensibly share a flight of crème brûlée. It’s a selection of crème brûlées served on a tray, a trio of cotton candy crème brûlée, jalapeño crème brûlée, and espresso crème brûlée. There’s a party on my tongue with every fucking bite. Are there any jobs going in here so I can eat these every day? Sweet mother of God, they’re delicious.
“Raffi.” Victoria’s laughing, spoon poised near her mouth.
“Yeah?”
“People are staring at the sex noises you’re making.”
“You don’t know what my sex noises soun—Oh.” I almost drop my spoon at the raised eyebrow and shrewd look on Victoria’s face. She knows exactly what I sound like in the bedroom.
She definitely has the advantage right now. If I’m lucky, she’s going to let me take her to bed again. Not tonight, but some night. I’ve dreamt about those red locks being tangled around my fingers since she dumped a drink on my head in the bar.
“Gonna go out on a limb and guess you like it.” She points her spoon to the flightbetween us.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever had something so delicious on my tongue.”
She inhales some cotton candy and coughs, her face going red.
Leaning in, I stroke the inside of her palm. “What is it, Firecracker? Did you taste delicious on my tongue?” No one else can hear me, and there’s every chance she’s going to dump another drink on my head right now for being so forward, but something about her makes me want to push her limits. Just a little.
Okay, fine, maybe a lot.
“I remember your tongue.” Her voice is barely audible in the din of the restaurant, but she’s so close to my ear that every word tickles my cheek. Her eyes darken, she licks her lips, and I swear I’m about to combust with how fucking hot she is right now. “I dream about that night regularly.” Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.
I don’t remember what her body is like under those clothes, but it’s taking all my strength not to peel them off her. There’s nothing I want more than to lie her flat on this table, cover her in crème brûlée and take my time licking it off.
Pretty sure that’d be frowned upon, though.
“You want to tell me about it while I drive you home?”
