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“That… makes sense,” I wheeze out the words and suck in a lungful of air. God, I didn’t know beef could taste this bad.
“Did you tell her how you’ve been feeling?” I casually move the meat container off to the side so Trip can’t reach it. I hope she likes vegetables.
“Ya, I did. The conversation itself was really good, and she’s still the closest friend I’ve ever had… but I guess I’m still a bit tender.” Suddenly, Trip covers both cheeks with her hands, “I’m sorry, this isn’t what we should be talking about. You don’t need to hear about this.”
Now it’s my turn to frown, “Hey, I want to hear about this. Life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows, most of the time it drop kicks you in the face and leaves you bleeding in the gutter.”
Trip blinks at me, her lips pulling into a wry smile, “That is quite the visual.”
I lean forward to rest my elbows on the table. “It’s true though. Life is a trainwreck with short intervals of smooth sailing sprinkled in between. But here’s the thing, Trip. I wantto be in your life, and that means being a part of the good, the bad, and the ugly. Excuse the cliché.” I dab my mouth with a paper napkin as though I’m wiping off the residue of the overused phrase.
“No matter how crazy amazing or utterly horrible your day is going, I want to hear about it. I want to be a partof it.” I abruptly finish my monologue and lean back on my bench, suddenly aware my rush of verbal diarrhea may have my date running scared.
Looking across the candlelit table, I see tears glistening in Trip’s eyes. The sight makes me want to scoop her up in a hug, but I hold back, knowing she probably wants some space from the creeper who just dumped eighteen years of devotion onto her.
“Wes, I…” Trip swallows thickly, voice dropping just below a whisper, “I want to be part of your life too.” Relief floods my veins and I feel a smile stretching across my mouth.
“In that case, cheers.” I raise an imaginary glass – another thing I forgot to bring – and tilt in her direction.
“Cheers to going on a terrible yet never boring ride together.” She pretends to knock her glass against mine and I grab her hand, bringing it to my lips for a kiss.
Those rare, perfect moments I was just talking about? Pretty sure I’m in the middle of one right now.
Lou
If you asked me two months ago, whether I was a romantic, my answer would have been a nonchalant shrug. Neither here, nor there, just doing my best to keep my head down and get through life as socially pain-free as possible.
But now, if you asked me that same question, I am not sure what my answer would be. The feelings stirring up inside me as I look at the guy across the table feels too genuine to throw a label as cheesy as romance on it. But maybe that’s just it. Maybe you spend your whole life seeing the world through one perspective that when a new one comes along, when a newpersoncomes along, suddenly all the labels you applied to yourself, and to the world around you, suddenly become transformed to the point where you can’t remember where they stemmed from in the first place.
Oh God. I am starting to sound like Professor Anderson.
“I really am sorry about the meat. I swear I only had it on high for like two minutes.” It only took about ten minutes for Wes to confess his lack of cooking skills, and by that time he had already warned me to stay away from the concerningly dark taco meat.
I raise an eyebrow in his direction, and he sighs, “Fine. It was probably more like twenty minutes. Or thirty.” I giggle and gesture towards the rest of the empty containers.
“At least the vegetableswere impressively chopped. And I must say, the salsa was outstanding.” Wes barks out a laugh, shaking his head in agreement.
“The store-bought salsa was the highlight of the meal. Next time I’ll take you to a proper restaurant, so we can eat meat without indigestion. Promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Smiling, I look around the table and clear my throat, “We should probably clean up, it’s getting pretty late.”
Wes gasps in horror, “But we haven’t had dessert yet!”
I sneak a look at the empty grocery bag tucked beneath his bench, “I don’t see any more food hiding in that bag, Wes.”
He tsks and wags a finger at me, “You gotta start having more faith in me, gorgeous.” I feel my cheeks grow warm from the endearment.
“Well then, what’s for dessert?” Wes’ gaze flicks to my lips before returning to my eyes. A slow smile spreads across his handsome face and I have to stop myself from sighing.
“Let me quickly run back to my dorm to get it. I’m afraid this option on the menu had to stay refrigerated.” He stands up and starts stacking the containers back into the grocery bag. “You stay here, I’ll be back in a flash.” He throws me a wink but before he can go anywhere, I jump up and snag his arm.
“Or maybe we could have dessert back at your dorm?” My heart thunders in my ears as the words slip past my lips. Seeing Wes’ eyes widen with surprise, I find myself adding, “It’s getting a little chilly.”
Green eyes trail down my arms, raising goosebumps on exposed skin that have nothing to do with the cool night air. Hastily removing the candles from the table, Wes bends down to gently drape the checkered cloth around my shoulders.
“Is that better?” I nod and hug the tablecloth tighter around me. Grabbing the grocery bag with one hand, Wes nods towards the path from which we came, and together we make our way back to his dorm.
“Aren’t you going to guess what it is?” Wes’ voice echoes from where the top half of his body has disappeared into the refrigerator. I lean against the back of the couch, admiring the way his jeans hug the round curve of his butt. Wes definitely doesn’t skip leg day.
