“Please just don’t tease me, alright?” I beg, suddenly aware that my innermost child to pre-teen angst is on full display around the room.
“Don’t know if I could if I wanted to, darlin’.” He continues to scrutinize the pages. “Your handwriting might be worse than mine.” With each step across the room, he leaves puddles on the floor.
Darlin’.
He says it so effortlessly, and I’m warm and safe, wrapped up in the endearment. I want to hear it again, but I can’t exactly ask, can I?
His searching eyes find mine, and he stops in his tracks.
“Wow…” he breathes, tentatively cupping my hand in his, Gil guides me into a spin. Once we’re face to face, I fixate on the rise and fall of his Adams apple as he brazenly drinks me in.
“Ah.” I pause, looking down at myself. Despite my ink-spotted hands, I’m comparatively overdressed when compared to his tourist t-shirt and shorts.
“Too much?” I ask. “I sort of ran out of casual things to wear and I—”
“You’re perfect, remember? Don’t change a darn thing.”
My skin itches, as if rebelling against the compliment. He’s closer now, so close I wonder if he might kiss me again. His lips look so soft, water drips from his sandy blonde hair down his face in perfect droplets, and I want to—
“You should change into something dry.” I pull my gaze away from his body.
“Any suggestions?” he says with a smirk. “Because the only other outfit I have is the one I was born in, and I think it’s a little early for that.”
I gulp.
It’s not that I want to rush into things—except I do.
I really, really do.
Instead, I look at my suitcase. The only thing in there that might fit him is an oversized silk robe—that I’m pretty sure belongs to Grams. She must have snuck it into my bag.
“How do you feel about the color green?” I ask half-jokingly before retrieving it. I toss it in his direction, and it slaps against his chest before he catches it. Gil doesn’t skip a beat, heading to the bathroom to change.
When he reemerges, I realize what a colossal mistake I’ve made. Not only does green suit him, but the thin fabric clings to his damp skin.
Yes.
A thin poly-silk robe is 100% sluttier than if Gil were standing in the living room stark-naked. Sure, his limbs are a little too long, and I can’t peg what it is about him that’s sooff. Still, that doesn’t change the way the robe pools around him like liquid. Green is his color. I stiffen, using all my resolve not to run my fingers down the curve from his neck to his shoulder. Instead, I make polite conversation and clear my things away enough for the two of us to have dinner.
“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” he says, but I’ll take chips and sandwiches any day. “Was hoping the sour cream and onion were still your favorite.”
“They are.” Though I don’t remember telling him that.
Along with the simple dinner, he puts a bottle of wine on the table.
“Oh, I don’t really drink,” I say, eyeing the bottle. “If you want to that’s fine, but it’s just never been for me.”
This has been an odd dealbreaker on dates before, especially with guys who want to meet at a brewery and talk about their favorite microbrews and ciders. Most of the time, I’m able to order a kombucha or a mocktail. It’s not that there’s judgement—no, it’s that they wanted to have a shared experience. I just can’t go there.
Grams says it’s fine as long as you know your limits, but it has never tasted good to me and, without fail, gives me a headache. Besides, I know her history, the way she tried to fill the space my mom left with bottles of wine like the one on the table. We didn’t get close, not really, until she was sober and I was in middle school. Still, she’s stayed strong all these years with a new fixation on puzzle games and fizzy water.
“Noted,” he says, slipping the bottle back in the bag. “Next time, I’ll come prepared with sweet tea or some of that fancy flavored water.”
“Sweet tea.” I nod. “Do you make it yourself?”
“With my Grampy’s recipe. Judging by the way you took your coffee and flutter around, I should have thought to bring something that suited the palate of a hummingbird.”
I open my mouth to argue but the visual is too cute to dislike.
