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get. The heavier his hands feel on my hips. The harder his body feels against mine. He gets more alluring by the second. It’s not fair and it’s completely distracting. Why are his hands so innocently on my hips in the first place? He could rest them on my lower back, pull me even tighter. He could lower his head just a little, kiss me for a second, and all would be well. Except, I already want more than a second and he hasn’t even kissed me today.
Brent leans in. Oh, good. He’s finally going to kiss me. In three, two... Damn it, Brent! He bypasses my mouth and rests his cheek against mine before whispering, “What are you thinking about?”
“Things I probably shouldn’t be thinking about in public.”
He laughs. “It’s almost time for the movie. We should head that way. Hungry yet? I think we can grab something from the concessions over there.”
“Let’s do that then.”
Brent takes my hand and leads us away from the majority of the crowds. We stop to order our food from the concessions. I think Brent goes overboard, but all I can do is laugh. We both get burgers, fries, and drinks, but Brent insists we need popcorn and chocolate bars for the movie too. We also stop by to rent a radio instead of using the one in his truck for the audio for the movie.
By the time we’re in the truck and all set up to eat and watch the old movie, it starts. It’s weird to be sitting in the car and not in a theater, but cool too. Some people forgo their vehicles altogether and brought blankets and lawn chairs instead.
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Brent murmurs.
“Yeah. It would be nice to come back once it’s a bit warmer and be like them.” I point to a group of people who decided to sit outside of their vehicle. “A movie under the stars.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
We watch the rest of the movie in silence. The party at the tents is still hopping, not yet dying down, but we decide to head back home.
“And there needs to be a third time, too,” I say as we leave.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Aren’t drive-ins famous for making out?”
Brent laughs. “You want to come back? Just to make out in the truck?”
“You don’t?” I raise an eyebrow at him when he glances over at me.
“Okay. It’s a date then.”
I smile and look out the window. My phone vibrates with a text and I check it real quick.
Erin: How’s the date? Do I need to call? I heard you left out of here looking old-fashioned. What the hell, Jamie?
Me: We’re on our way back, so you’re way late. It was 50s night.
Erin: 50s night?? That sounds like torture. What kind of guy does that to you? Are you sure I don’t need to call with an emergency?
Me: I’m fine! I’ll tell you details later. Coffee in the morning?
Erin: Text me when.
Brent has his hand all the way over the center console. His fingers dangle. They tease my thigh by drawing endless circles, round and round. I’m so distracted by that one little action that I don’t realize we’ve stopped or that we’re back at campus until he chuckles and squeezes my knee. I’m a little disappointed that he’s dropping me off instead of us spending more time together, maybe naked time. This is a clear sign that naked time isn’t coming soon, or tonight at least, which is probably for the best. All that dancing went straight to my...err...head.
“Are you going inside or would you like to stare at my hand some more?”
“Sorry. I had a good time. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
He gets out and I wait as he walks around to open my door for me. He takes my hand. The warmth, the callus feel, how his hand is a bit bigger than mine? It sends tingles up my arm and down my back, all the way to my toes. That hand would feel good running over my body. Ugh! Stop it, Jamie! Patience. It’s too soon and it’s date one!
“Jamie?” My gaze travels up his arm to his smiling face. “You seem preoccupied again.” He closes the door behind us and I take a step closer to him. A slight upward tilt of my chin is all it takes for Brent to lean forward and respond to my unspoken request. Within seconds, his arms snake around my waist and pull me tight against his body. I love that his body’s automatic response to kissing me is to hold me as close as possible.
He tries to pull away, but I lift my hands and dig my fingers into his hair at the base of his neck. There’s no way I’m letting him get away from me just yet. That kind of love I want? Where it’s all-consuming and sucks me in and never lets me go? This might not be love, but that consuming feeling overtakes me every time he kisses me and locks his arms around my waist. The world silences around me except for the noises we elicit from one another. My heart, which normally feels like it’s clutched tightly in the control of someone else, can beat freely to its own pace.
