AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It was.”
“So? What’s the consensus now?” Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, her eyes searching mine. “Was it worth it? Are you glad you paid up?”
I scrape the chair along the floor, stand, walk around the table, and hold out my hand. She accepts it and stands, leaning into my embrace. I pull her close and lower my lips to her ear, whispering the lyrics from the song, the ones about how she’s my fire.
She giggles, but then we don’t pull apart. I’m not going to keep singing, but I hum as we dance in her kitchen. By the end of the song, I roll her out into a dip. I want to kiss her long, exposed throat so badly.
But I can’t, so I let go of her hand. She brands me with a look, but then tells me I’m on dish duty while she wipes down the table and counters. It doesn’t take long, and soon, we’re in my car, and driving along Lakeside Road feels pleasant, like a thousand Friday nights before and a thousand Friday nights to come. I can pretend this is real, that what I’ve always wanted is possible.
When we reach my new place, I’m looking at it as Elianna might, like the first time I’m seeing it in the light of day.
“Let’s get inside quick, the sun’s going down,” I tell her, turning off the car and rushing around to her side to open her door.
But she’s already opened it and has scrambled out, her mouth open. “It looks so much better in the light of day than with the whole ‘grab your torch and pitchforks’ vibe we had going before.” She runs up the roughened, dried mud walk and takes the steps to the porch.
I catch up to her and unlock the door, the scents of drywall and lumber hitting my nose.
“Ah, there’s nothing like new house smell!” she says, tilting her face up to take in the vaulted ceilings. “Except maybe beach house smell. Or rather,mytheater beach playhouse smell. I can’t speak for all the beach houses around because some of them probably stink.” She giggles.
“You’ll have to show me the theater sometime,” I say, thinking of a future with her in it.
“You got it,” she says, her side glance telling me that maybe she’s thinking of a future with me in it, too.
“It’s so good to see you back to your old self,” I say.
“You kinda like my old self?” she asks, her head tilted.
“No. I don’t just kinda like your old self. I really like your old self, and all the other versions of yourself.”
“You don’t even know most of the versions of me.” Her blue eyes dance and sparkle.
My heart plummets down to my feet and back.
“I might know more than you think. But I’d love to get to know more.” I don’t care about my fears from before. And for someone who’s always thinking and analyzing ten steps ahead, this is refreshing. It feels so good. Like anything is possible.
I give her a tour, and she asks so many questions about the aesthetic of a room or what I envision the furniture placement to be like, most of which I haven’t even thought about yet.
Finally, we’re back at the patio and it’s dry and stable. “You can walk on it now.” I open the glass doors and motion for her to do the honors.
“It’s always kind of sad to me when cement dries.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s prettier when it’s cool and wet and sludgy. And there’s still so many possibilities. Now…” She stamps her foot down on it, hard. “It’s immovable.”
“An important trait for a patio.” I chuckle, but it comes out strangled. Because the sight of Elianna, with the backdrop of the gleaming pinks and oranges of the sunset behind her, is taking my breath away.
“True,” she says. “But the what-ifs are gone. Some of the magic is gone now.”
I step out onto the patio to her, and gently, with still something of caution, I tug her close to me, my arms circling her hips.
“Oh, there’s magic here.” I stare into her eyes. My gaze drops to her lips.
She gasps, just barely, her gaze darting back and forth from one eye to another, peering into my soul. But she’s not questioning it. She’s not questioning my motives or my value, the past or the future. She’s asking and I’m answering.
I kiss her.
Chapter 23
