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I think I’m being wooed.I’ve never really been wooed.Robbie was sweet and romantic, but we were kids when we first started dating.Romantic meant sharing his popcorn and chocolate-covered raisins with me, or buying a tub of popcorn big enough for both of us.It meant dressing up for dates, but even the most elaborate dates were school dances.After we were married, he’d take me out for dinner and a movie or occasionally mini golf.Trent told Robbie about some rooftop cinema Becka had taken him to, and we did that once.It was a ton of fun.
That’s what our dates were more than anything—they were fun.Because that’s what Robbie was.And I wouldn’t want to remember him any other way.
But I have to admit, it’s kind of nice to experience the other side of things.For two boys who were practically inseparable, it’s amazing how different they are.Where Robbie was fun and all about having a good time, Tristan was quiet, reserved, and observant—obviously more observant than I even gave him credit for.
He dates the same way.We’ve gone on a date almost every day for a few weeks now, and each date we’ve been on has been expertly tailored to my interests.A private tour of the latest exhibit at LACMA, taking me to an N*Sync pop-up because he knows how much I loved them growing up, visiting a bookstore which no joke looked like the one fromBeauty and the Beast, and a day at the park where he insisted I bring my camera because he knows how much I love people watching and capturing them through my lens.
While we’ve talked more than ever before, he’s still quiet as he watches me experience what he’s put together for us—for me.And at the end of every night, he kisses me until my brain is mush, then stares into my eyes before dropping a kiss on my forehead and leaving.I wish I knew what he sees in my eyes and how I could make the look go away, because every kiss and little touch of his hands is making me lose my mind.I’m starting to feel needy, like my skin is too tight for my body, and the persistent throb between my legs is relentless.No matter how many nights I attempt to release the tension, I’m left aching for something more.
Something real.
The weight of another person on top of me, inside me.The moans, the movement of two bodies finding release together.I’m starting to crave it with a hunger I forgot existed.It’s been a long time since I was this horny.Long before Robbie died.Infertility tends to suck the fun out of sex.It had become something on the calendar that had to happen within a certain window and less because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other like it was when we got married.I knew we’d find our balance eventually.We’d been together long enough to know sex sometimes waxed and waned.The passion wasn’t always present, even though the love was.After I got pregnant, Robbie was afraid to rock the boat at all, so we hadn’t been doing much except cuddling and making out when he passed.
Tonight, Tristan is taking me to a drive-in to see one of my all-time favorite nineties movies,10 Things I Hate About You.I slide on my sweater and check my hair in the bathroom once more when I hear the doorbell ring.I place my hand over my stomach as if that can calm the butterflies that have taken flight knowing he’s here.When I open the door, those butterflies swarm more than ever before.His blue eyes practically shine as they scan my body, taking in my red sundress that teases my cleavage and my cream sweater that completes the ensemble.I do my own perusal, admiring the way his jeans fit his thighs and how I imagine they’ll hug his ass when he turns around.He’s wearing a navy blue shirt that’s tight around his biceps, shows off his sleeve tattoos, and complements his blue eyes.
He looks…yummy.My mouth salivates as my gaze scans his tanned and toned forearms and his callused hands that I know he’ll place on the small of my back as we walk to his car like he always does.And I pray with everything I have inside me that whatever he’s been seeing in my eyes isn’t there tonight, because I don’t want to wait anymore.
I want him.It’s as simple and complicated as that, but I’m not going to feel bad about it anymore.He catches me staring at his body, but he doesn’t say anything.He just smirks and then places his hand where I knew he would, on the small of my back, as he guides me to his car.The drive is easy, each of us filling the other in on our day.When we get to the drive-in, he reaches in the back seat and pulls out boxes of Red Vines and chocolate-covered raisins.
“I’m gonna go buy some popcorn and drinks.You want Sprite?”
“You brought candy, but not drinks?I’m surprised.”
“I wanted to support the establishment a little bit, and these places make all their money on concessions, but last time I was here with Trent several months ago they were out of Red Vines and didn’t carry chocolate-covered raisins.I didn’t want to risk it since those are your favorites.Butter on the popcorn?”
I nod, speechless as my mind tries to wrap around the fact he thought about me when he was here before, even though I wasn’t with him and well before I realized he had feelings for me.After all I’ve learned, I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.Sometimes I feel unworthy of all the care and attention he gives me.All the ways he’s always taken care of me without any gratitude or getting anything in return.
He comes back fifteen minutes later with the largest bucket of popcorn I’ve ever seen and a giant drink to match.
“I hope you don’t mind sharing.”He looks at both containers in his hands and then back at me.“I should’ve asked if you were okay with that.”He looks angry at himself, and I can’t bear to see it so I immediately place my hand on his arm.
“You’ve kissed me breathless every time we’ve gone out for weeks now.I think I can handle sharing a drink with you.And that tub of popcorn is bigger than a small child, so I think there’ll be plenty.”
His shoulders relax and his eyes soften until his gaze drops to my mouth, then the heat that shows up every night when he kisses me is there like a spark ready to set off a wildfire.A shiver races through my body, leaving goose bumps on my arms and my nipples so tight every breath makes them rub against my bra, causing them to ache even more than they already did.
He closes his eyes and when he opens them up, it’s like he’s locked away all his emotions.
“That’s how you hid it,” I whisper.
“What do you mean?”
I run my pointer finger down his face from the outside corner of his eye to his chin.“I saw it, just now, how badly you wanted me, but then you closed your eyes and when you opened them, it was gone.How many times did you do that before?”
He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to.He’s loved me for over eleven years; he’s hidden his emotions a lot.Another thought pops in my head and won’t be silent.
“Who are your songs about?”
He nibbles his bottom lip, and I already know the answer before he says, “You.They’ve always been about you.”
“All of them?”I ask, feeling a little breathless.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal when we both know it’s a very big deal.“Most of them.A few Trent co-wrote and I’m sure he was thinking about Becka.”
“You’ve not hidden at all, have you?Not really.Everything you ever felt for me, you put into your songs, didn’t you?”
He frowns and then scrubs his hands over his face.“What was I supposed to do, Jo?Confess to everyone I was in love with my best friend’s girl?That I saw her first, but he asked her out first and I was pining for her—for you?No way.That would’ve made things awkward as hell, and it wouldn’t change anything.”
