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And she loved that about him.
She smiled as he arrived, in a suitcoat that had been tailored to fit around his cast. She’d been right; his wrist was broken. And he’d been like a scared little boy in the ER, grasping onto her hand with his good one, never wanting to let go even when they insisted he had to for his X-ray.
He stood before her today with a lopsided grin as he walked up to her front door, his hair in perfect disarray.
“Are you able to drive with your cast?” her father asked as he suddenly appeared behind her.
“Well enough, sir,” Lorenzo had answered.
Sir.
That was going to make her father pleased.
“Dude, look at you,” Justin teased as he walked up, football in hand. “Coach is still pissed that you have to miss most of the season.”
Lorenzo shrugged. “I’ll heal.”
“Don’t you need a jacket?” her father asked her, and she turned to him with a quizzical look on her face. It was a balmy late summer evening. “Okay, fine. Be home by 11 sharp.”
“Eleven thirty,” she corrected him. “Just in case the traffic is bad after the show.”
“Fine, but no later. And you’ll walk her to the door after,” her father said to Lorenzo.
“Of course, I will, sir.”
Their drive down Willow Creek Road was in near silence, only the low sounds of the radio as they exchanged shy glances at one another. It was official: they were on their first date.
“You look beautiful,” he finally said as he took the turn onto Main Street, still further out into the country with only a few houses dotting the landscape.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “You look quite handsome yourself.”
***
His hair looked almostthe same, but his features had matured. Had she thought him merely handsome before—though she didn’t; he’d always been gorgeous—those qualities had filled in nicely. His lips were full, his cheekbones high, his nose though bruised was perfect. His eyelashes were long and dark and laid across his cheeks as he slept, leaving Katrina to watch over him with her promise that she wouldn’t leave.
At that moment, she was damning her hands for wanting to reach out and smooth his hair back, or worse, to hold his hand in hers. There was nothing much for her to do but relive their memories, such as their first date, the first time he’d led her to a dance floor and taken her into his arms to sway to the music. They’d skipped their school dances in lieu of just going out, the trio of them, and having fun.
That night there was no trio.
***
“Why do we skip allthe dances when you obviously know how?” she asked, and he grinned down at her.
“Ah, Trina, the fun we’ve had while skipping the formal wear and everyone staring was always enough for me. Wasn’t it for you?”
“I think we should go to the dances this year.” She smiled as he spun her and pulled her back up against his body. “Is that a yes, Ren?”
“That’s a maybe,” he whispered into her ear sending chills down her spine. He always did this to her, making her in need of catching her breath. “We still need to get you to the theatre.”
“Get us there, you mean. I think you’ll love it.”
“I love the company, so...”
Her smile up at him was warm, radiant, as her heart skipped the tiniest of beats. “Do you?”
He rested his forehead against hers as they swayed to the music the band was playing. “God, yes,” he breathed before his lips captured hers.
***
