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Fiona grabbed my hand and led the way to the back of the gallery.
She then spun around and jumped into my arms.
That was our thing.
She’d jump into my arms.
We’d stare for a second.
Then we’d kiss.
Soft kisses.
Love kisses.
Then Fiona would grab my face, scratch it, bite my bottom lip, and groan.
Then she was out of my arms and back on her feet.
Touching her lips.
Letting out a breathless groan.
Sometimes blushing, always smiling.
“So where’s Demi?” I asked.
“She’s on a date.”
“Demi is on a date?”
“Yeah. With someone half her age.”
“No way.”
“Yup. She joked around too. Saying she hopes this guy doesn’t get an inflated ego when she’s shaking. Doesn’t want him to think she’s nervous.”
“Wow. Demi is…”
“She’s something else.”
“So she dates people. Half her age. Is this… a… you know…”
“What, Riff?”
I laughed. “If this is a sex thing for her?”
Fiona cringed. “I don’t know! I don’t want to think about it. I mean, if it is, good for her. Get it. Enjoy it.”
“Hey, I agree,” I said. “Do we need to clear out of here then? Give her space?”
“No. We’re fine. I was working on a painting. Want to see?”
“Of course I want to see.”
I moved closer to Fiona and reached for her.
She turned around.
