Page 31
“Yes, but are you”—I pause to shift her legs and get a little closer to her—“interested?” We stare at each other as the chill of the night seems to create an igloo around our park bench. I glance over her shoulder and see the buildings are lit up with their hearts and red and pink lights. I hear the traffic noise, then I look at her face, and it all fades in comparison. I only hear her heartbeat and mine. This might be a bit more than lust. Dinner is usually a means to an end, but it’s important tonight. I listen to her breathing catch in excitement and anticipation. I slowly move towards her lips.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I’m startled and pull back, and she shakes her whole body like a chill invaded her soul. The moment’s gone, and I can’t get that lost kiss back. The cold and chilly reality of us sitting on a park bench in fucking February takes hold.
“Time’s up. Let’s see how we did?” I let go, and she suddenly lifts her leg straight into the air, giving a lovely view of her calf, but as she does, the heel seems to be holding on. I feel it slip off my hand, and we both stare at her leg in the air.
“Shit.” Dangling off her shoe is my glove.
She laughs at the sight of it. “Would you kindly remove your glove?”
I take her legs off me and stand up. She’s still on the bench, and now her shoe is at eye level with me. I grab her ankle, and I swear I hear her gasp at the exact moment my dick stirs. It’s a very lovely ankle. Without thinking, I kiss her sparkly almost sheer tights and grab my glove. But as I tug, it won’t come off.
“Fuck.”
“What?” She lowers her feet to the ground and sits up. My glove is glued to the bottom of her shoe. The black leather glove fills with air as she lowers her foot, then slams it to the ground. “You’re kidding?”
“I don’t know how that happened. I’m so sorry. I know how to glue things. I’ve won awards in gluing.” I’m vamping. “I can fix this.” I’m panicking a bit. I look like a moron in front of the goddess of a woman I’m trying to impress. Shit. I squat down and realize there are three glove fingers attached to the shoe. I try to wedge my fingers under the leather and work it free. “Hold on.” She grips the bench, and I pull incredibly hard. My fist slides off the glove and bashes into my own eye. Everything pinches in my brain for a moment as I fall on my ass. Now, I’m sitting in salty slush and it’s seeping into my pants. I quickly pop up. My eye is killing me.
“Holy fuck. Fuck that hurt.”
“Oh my god.” She jumps off the bench and tries to walk on her heels. There’s a slight limp because one is so much taller than the other now, and she’s dragging my glove. I walk around blinking, trying to get my vision back. And now my eye stings like a mutha because I have some of the salty slush on my hand, and I put it in my fucking asshole eye.
“I’m fine. Totally fine. This is all under complete control. I have a plan. No worries.” The fact she’s not limp running away from me is a miracle. As I squint, I see her break an icicle from the bench and put it into her woollen glove. Now she rescues me. She places the scratchy soggy glove on my eye, and the cool ice soothes. When my mom sat me down for one of her ‘talks’ one time, she said someday someone will turn the light on for me. That I wouldn’t notice when it happened, only that I’m no longer in the dark. Then I’d know I’m no longer alone. I thought she was talking about my dad, but that wasn’t true. I figured it was a myth. But now, even if it’s only for the next six hours, it’s nice not to feel alone.
When I open my other eye, she’s crooked. I hope it’s the shoes that took my vision and the world off its axis.
She says, “I’m getting weak from hunger and if I have to drag a glove around all night, I’m going to need food for strength.” She grins, and even that is a little crooked and thoroughly fucking charming.
OceanofPDF.com
16
OceanofPDF.com
SABRINA
It’s nearly nine as we clomp towards dinner. My glove is on his eye, and his is on my shoe. There’s an odd symmetry to it. This man with my glove on his eye is lovely. He’s not perfect, but he is. Does that even make sense? I’m flying on gut instinct. I know how to be aggressive but not bold. Perhaps my new friend, Tabi, is rubbing off on me. I want to be bold enough to be in the moment with this unexpected Valentine’s gift. I take his extended hand. “To food.”
We walk across the street to a bustling bistro. He squeezes my hand, and I keep trying to scrape off the glove by scuffing it along the ground. Sadly now it’s wet and there are pebbles stuck to it, like a mini leather albatross. I’m trying to walk straight, but the shoes really are different heights and angles now.
“How’s your eye?”
“Fine. How’s my glove?”
I giggle. “Fine.”
He leans to me and kisses the side of my head, and now I fucking want him. A simple touch of his lips and my entire body is glowing. I’m a lightning bug’s butt. We’re bonded by diversity. Like we’ve conquered something. He holds open the door. His eye is a little puffy, but I won’t say a word.
“Good evening, do you have a reservation?” a pert woman says.
I say, “I’m sorry we don’t. And we’ve had a hell of a night. We’d love to sit at the bar and eat if that’s possible. Or take any cancellation you might have.”
The woman smiles sweetly at us. “You do know it’s Valentine’s Day?”
I say, “We do. And it’s a very long story. We did have a table somewhere but…”
He tucks me into his side and turns towards her, so she sees his slightly puffy eye. I thought for a moment he was going to mansplain the situation but then I see he’s just feeding this woman what she wants. His chiseled jaw, his perfect hair, the light stubble, and those gleaming green hazel eyes. The son of a bitch is going to flirt and lean in to his black eye for sympathy. He smiles at the woman, and she’s trapped in his gaze. It’s almost too much to watch his charm work on someone else.
