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Raphael pulls me past his car, sitting on a bench and pulling out the containers of food.
"What are you doing?"
"Finishing my dinner," he shrugs. "You will too, right?"
I glance around us. The boardwalk is deserted. The only one who would see me eat here is Raphael, and he doesn't seem to care, tucking into his own food as he pats the bench for me to join him. Reluctantly, I do. I take out my chopsticks and eat, slowly, bite by bite. Raphael was right. This is the best Thai dish I've ever had.
We finish our food in comfortable silence. I don't eat everything, but at least half of it, and it feels good. I put the rest back in the bag for Sam later.
"You've got a little..." Raphael points to my face.
"Here?" I wipe, and he laughs, leaning in close.
"Let me." His thumb wipes the corner of my lip. He raises it to his lips and sucks it clean. For some reason it makes me need him. I want him to kiss me. I want him to touch me.
I look away, unable to handle the weight of his gaze, but he keeps his eyes trained on me.
"Dove," he mutters. "Look at me."
Wordlessly, I shake my head. But he takes my chin in his fingers, gently tipping my head back. My eyes meet his. They're burning with a cool, quiet desire. I realize I want him to kiss me, and the next second, he does.
His lips meet mine, hesitant at first, as if he thinks I'll push him away. But I don't. I can't. I'm so starved for some kind of connection, I lean into him, kissing him back.
Encouraged by my response, Raphael deepens our kiss. I push the leftovers aside and he hoists me up on his lap. Suddenly I'm straddling him, and we're kissing like our lives depend on it.
Fuck. I never realized how much I wanted this. How much I missed human contact... Kissing, fucking, making love. It all hits me like a ton of bricks. I'm so tempted to ask him for more. Whimper and beg for more. I've only done that with one other man. And he ruined my life. I can't let Raphael do that.
I pull back, forcing my heartbeat to slow down. Raphael traces his fingertips over my lips, as if to remember their shape. I don't regret kissing him, but we've moved fast – from an innocent peck to a full-on makeout session on a bench, like we're two horny freaking teenagers.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "It's... it's so fast."
"Don't be sorry," he replies. "I'll give you all the time you need. But I do want to kiss you again..."
I look up at him and nod. I don't want to, but I need more comforting.
His lips meet mine again. This time he's patient, slow, kind. Somehow, still passionate. I melt into his embrace, my body molding into his as he holds me close.
"Do you want to come back to my place?" he mutters in my ear. "Or yours... Whatever you want, Dove, I just want to be with you. Fuck, I know it’s too fast, I know I shouldn’t say all this, but I can’t help myself."
I battle with my decision, but deep down, I know I'm not ready yet. And if he truly cares about me, he'll be willing to wait. I pull back and shake my head, "It's too soon. Can you take me home? I have something else I need to do."
"Of course." Such a gentleman. He takes my hand and we walk back to his car, hand in hand. The whole drive home, his right hand rests on my knee, and I don't mind it one bit.
He parks in front of my house and gets out to walk me to the door.
"I actually have another errand," I mutter apologetically. "I really would invite you in, I just..."
"No need to explain." He squeezes my hand. "I'll wait, Dove."
"Thank you," I manage. He leans in and kisses me again. Soft, beautiful, special. The kiss is fleeting, and when he pulls back, I feel lost. "Will we go out again?"
"Of course," he smirks. "I'm not taking no for an answer. And about Void... Can I give your number to the photographer they work with?"
"I'm sorry, but no." I shake my head. "It was a one-time thing for me."
"Understood." He smiles. "In a way, I'm relieved. It makes the portraits I took of you so much more special."
I smile back and we say our goodbyes. I wave as he drives off before heading into the alleyway where Sam should be. It's late – I spent more time with Raphael than I thought I would. I expect to see my friend asleep on his makeshift bed, but when I get there, the newspapers, cardboard and my blanket are abandoned.
