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They all started with a kiss. That was goal number one.
4
DEE
Seven years ago…
Pulling up in his older-model car would have been a turnoff for some girls, but not for me. I wasn’t much of a car person, a fact that separated Wendy and me. She paid attention to stuff like that, mostly because she wanted to compete in some way. She was a bit of a tomboy in that respect. As for me, Hawk could have shown up on a bicycle and I would have swooned a bit. Would have been more difficult to stay modest in the dress, but I could figure it out.
As it was, he hopped out of his car and went around to open the door for me. I made my way off the porch, simultaneously not wanting to break eye contact with him and also not fall headfirst off the porch in the heels that I was wearing. It was a bit touch and go at first, but I made it to the ground and to his car before I fell and made a fool of myself.
“You look fantastic,” he said as I reached his car.
“Thank you,” I said. “You look nice too.”
He grinned and looked down at his button-up shirt, which was open at the top, and slacks.
“Eh, it was as close to dress-up clothes as I have. I don’t do a lot of going out,” he said.
“Shame. You should do it more often.”
“Maybe I will,” he said.
I sat down in the passenger’s seat before I could say something to embarrass myself. We drove to the restaurant in a happy, if nervous, near silence. His radio was crooning some ballad from the eighties, and I wondered if the car could only play music from its own time period.
As we got to the restaurant, Hawk pulled into an open space and hopped out, going around to my side to open the door. I could feel myself blushing as I took his hand, and we walked into the building. It was hard to control my breathing. I was not only out, at night, with Hawk, alone, but he was holding my hand.
We walked inside, and Hawk told the hostess it was just us two, and she glanced between us for a moment. I recognized her as a girl I went to school with, but I thought she must have been older than me. There was also a flicker of recognition between her and Hawk, and I got the impression she was one of the many girls who similarly had noticed him but never got close. I was okay if she was jealous of me in that moment. It was kind of fun.
After we sat in our booth, Hawk picked up the menu and perused it for a second before putting it back down and staring at me.
“You know what you want?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” he said.
Heat rose from my core, and my breath hitched. He wasn’t talking about dinner.
I cleared my throat and tried to focus on the menu. Pick something light, I thought. Something that won’t sit on your stomach. Something ladylike.
“Hawk?” a voice said as it approached us at the table.
“No way,” Hawk said, looking up. “Don’t tell me you work here.”
“I do,” the man said, and I recognized him as a guy from the class Hawk and I had together.
“Small world,” Hawk said. “How have you been?”
“Good,” the man said, then looked at me. “Not as good as you, though, apparently.”
Hawk laughed and reached his hand out for mine. Instinctively I obliged, and he rubbed my knuckles with his thumb as he smiled at me.
“You remember Steve,” he said to me. “Steve Carillon.”
“Yeah,” I said. “We had a class together my junior year.”
“Oh!” Steve said, taking a step back and his jaw falling a bit. “Wow, hey, you grew up.”
“She sure did,” Hawk said under his breath.
“Thanks,” I said, not sure which one I was responding to.
“Well, I have to get back to the back,” Steve said. “I’m bartending tonight and was just bussing the table next to you guys to help out. Good seeing you.”
“Good seeing you,” Hawk said.
Steve shot off a small wave to me and turned to head to the back.
“Well, that was wild,” Hawk said. “I guess I should expect it, though. Ashford’s not all that big of a town.”
“Yeah. Most everyone here has been here for a while.”
“Not many people leave,” he said, taking a sip of his water.
“You did,” I said, and then the question that had been burning in my mind for over a year came searing into my brain so quickly and intensely that I had no power to stop it coming out of my mouth. As the words tumbled out, I felt like I wanted to grab them out of the air and throw them back in. “Kind of like Homecoming.”
