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How many dates?
She gives me a confused look.
How many dates before the coffee shop couple had their first kiss?
The moment she reads my message, her lips revert into her mouth and her eyelashes flutter.
So easily flustered.
If Yaya has any experience with dating and intimacy, it seems rather limited. A kiss is hardly anything to get so shy about.
Or perhaps I’m the one making her shy?
The thought pleases me.
I have a question.
I notice she completely ignored my note about the kiss and, before I can point that out, Mosely knocks on the window.
“Sir, we should get moving.”
“Just a minute, Mosely,” I say.
He retreats immediately.
Yaya’s eyes narrow, and I wonder if I’ve upset her.
She erases everything she’s written and types again. Waiting for her to reveal her phone to me is an exercise in patience.
You don’t seem like a man who asks for things.Why did you memorize the sign for ‘please’?
I could tell her that I also memorized ‘hello’, ‘goodbye’ and ‘nice to meet you’, but this isn’t what she’s asking.
The phone clacks with each tap of my thumb on the screen.
Because I’d like to try.
Try what?
She’s leaning forward, waiting with lips slightly parted to read my response. I shorten the distance between us, offering my phone for her perusal.
Asking nicely for what I want before I have it.
Her head lifts and she realizes how close we are. For one, exhilarating moment, our breaths mingle as we both inhale.
She scoots back first.
Enough, Dare.
I wind the window down.
Mosely pounces as if he’d been waiting for any sign of life.
“Is everything alright?” His gaze trounces, not so subtly, to Yaya.
“Let’s head out now.”
Yaya keeps her eyes on the passing scenery as we take off. She’s staring with so much concentration, I suspect she’s trying to phase through the window. At the very least, she’s eager to get away from me. If she flattens herself any closer to the door, she’ll be part human, part pancake.
