Lovely (19 page)

She wrinkles her nose and winces, bringing a hand to her head. “Honestly, my head hurts a bit.”

“Hmmm … Yeah.” A sly grin spreads across my face. “I’m not surprised.”

“What does that mean?” she asks, throwing some books on a rolling cart so haphazardly that a couple land on the floor.

This could be interesting if she can’t recall any details. “You don’t remember?”

She bends to pick up the books and stacks them on the counter, confused. “Remember what?”

“Well,” I smirk, “then I guess you don’t remember smelling me?”

“WHAT?” she says mortified, a pink blush covers her face and she splays her fingers over it to hide her embarrassment.

I love having fun with her and now’s the perfect time. “It wasn’t a big deal really, until you started taking off my clothes.” I put a finger to my mouth and mash my lips together to keep from laughing. “You practically ripped them off of me, mumbling something about how irresistible I was.” I might as well go for broke.

She glances around the library then marches out from behind the counter to stand in front of me, her shy eyes now filled with something I don’t recognize. “I did not.” Her voice is soft but firm, seemingly trying to convince herself this didn’t happen.

I take my finger and tuck a curl behind her ear. “No, you didn’t.”

I guess she completely forgot about the way her lips melted into my neck. I certainly haven’t … I touch my fingers there. The spot is still warm, just like her mouth was …

She narrows her eyes and pokes her finger at my chest. “That was a low blow, Ashton Taylor.”

Perhaps. But it was awfully fun
. “So listen, I was wondering, since it’s Friday, if you had any plans tonight?”

Her gaze flicks upward and she grimaces, still obviously recovering from my little joke. “No, why?”

“Good, because I thought we could do something together.”

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

Good Lord, please don’t do that
.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

My muscles twitch and I struggle not to move closer to her. “Hmph … well, that depends on whether or not you’d say yes.”

She taps her finger against her mouth. “Hmmm … I don’t know. Well …,” a playful smile sits on her lips, “hmmm … maybe … yeah … I guess I’ll go out with you.”

“Listen, don’t let your excitement carry you away,” I tease.

She looks around again, moving in closer, her hands settling on her hips. “Why, yes, I’d
love
to go out with you Ashton Taylor,” she drawls in a very dramatic southern accent, the sweet sound of her voice awakening my heart and my dick.

“So I just want to be clear. That’s a yes? As in YES?”

She nods and steps in to me, biting her lip, a bright smile forming at the corners of her mouth.

“Wait, this isn’t some hidden TV show I’m on, is it? Any minute you’re going to pull out your whiteboard with the word NO in block letters and the entire crew is going to jump out and start laughing, right?”

She makes a popping sound with her mouth, drawing my attention to the full lips that I want to cover with mine. “No … No tricks. I want to go out with you.”

I place my hand over my chest. “Be still my heart.”

Her shy smile is back, and it’s such a pretty one.

“Okay, then. So, I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

“I’ll be ready at 7:30.” She winks and saunters happily behind the counter.

I like playful Cara. Actually, I like Cara, period.

The rest of the day I can think of nothing else but Cara. I can’t help wondering what she thinks about me. I mean, I know she likes me, but I wonder if she feels the same electricity I do whenever we’re together. It’s like an explosion of colors and light. It’s magic and I want more.

Even Professor Travinski can’t spoil my mood when he decides to dub today Spontaneous Poetry Day. He paces the front of the classroom scratching his bald head as if pondering how to torture us. “So, today’s theme is spontaneous poetry and to demonstrate, we’re going to have Cara Hayward start it off for us.”

When I hear Cara’s name, I whirl around, and sure enough see her sitting in the back of the room. I didn’t even notice her before. When our eyes meet, hers are twinkling; mine are smiling.

Cara walks by my desk and elbows me gently on her way to the front of the classroom. Planting herself on the chair, she smoothes her blue linen dress over her legs, places her hands in her lap, and clears her throat. She looks straight ahead as she begins. “I was afraid, but I’m not afraid anymore. I was unsure, but I’m more sure than ever. My world was dark,” her eyes meet mine, “but you’ve filled it with light. I was hiding from the world, but I don’t want to hide from you.”

Our eyes are locked, my heart making its presence known so loudly in my chest that I feel like the whole class can hear it. I can’t break from her gaze, and don’t, until she finally looks away.

“Thank you, Cara, that was a wonderful demonstration of spontaneous poetry; and so heartfelt, too.”

She gets up, and as she passes me, I want to hold out my hand to her. To touch her. Instead, she reaches out to me with her eyes and I put every single thing I’m feeling in this moment in mine.

By the time classes are over, I literally tear off campus so I can get home and ready for our date. Excitement is buzzing through me, and it feels foreign and strange, but amazing. I don’t remember ever feeling like this about a girl. But then again, she’s not just a girl. She is simply the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known. She’s not any girl. She’s
the
girl.

Mom’s in the kitchen cooking dinner and I take two freshly baked chocolate chip cookies off a plate and devour them. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey, how was class?”

I smile. “It was great,” I say as I bite into the chocolate, which makes me think of Cara.

Mom puts down the knife she’s using to chop carrots and looks at me, her eyes hopeful, her lips slanting upward in a brilliant smile. “Wow, it must’ve been. You look really happy.” Her face changes as a sweep of recognition hits it. “Ah … Does this have anything to do with your lovely girl?”

“Mom, first off she’s not
my
lovely girl.”
Not yet, anyway
. “We have a date tonight.”

“A date! That’s fantastic, honey. Where are you taking her?”

Oh crap, I haven’t even thought about that
. “I don’t know. I mean, Glendale isn’t exactly a mecca for exciting things to do. Maybe bowling or to the movies?”

“Too bad there aren’t any drive-in theatres close by,” she says with a nostalgic smile, and I can tell she’s thinking about her and Dad’s first date. She goes back to mixing ingredients in a large silver bowl. “You hungry, for real food that is?”

“Not really, Mom. I’ll grab something to eat before I leave. Where is everyone?”

“Colt is over at Stacy’s and Delilah’s hanging out at Julie’s house tonight.”

“Oh.” I pause, taking in the scene around the kitchen, various ingredients lining the counter-she’s obviously making a big dinner. “So why are you cooking then?”

She smiles. “I just feel like it.”

I know cooking is therapeutic for Mom but I’m starting to think it’s time for her to consider getting out more. I cringe thinking about her dating again. No one can ever replace Dad, but it’s been four years and I hate the thought of her being alone.

I amble over to where she’s standing and give her a peck on the forehead, choosing my next words carefully. “Mom,” I pause to take a breath, “I think it would be good for you to get out every now and then, you know, when you’re not at the salon.”

“Ash,” she shifts her head to the side and glares at me, “I get out plenty. I don’t want you worrying about me. Now go up and get ready for your date, okay?”

“Alright, Mom. I’m going.”

I jog up the stairs, throw open the door to my room, and lay on the bed. Cara’s poem is running through my brain at mach speed. My heart’s rhythm picks up just thinking about her words and the way she looked at me … like she has a clear path to my soul.

I take a hot shower, brush my teeth twice and even use mouthwash. You’d think I was going to be using my mouth for something tonight. A guy can certainly dream. I open my closet and peruse all the clothes, trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to wear. I need to keep it simple. I settle on my faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved button down shirt, pull on my boxers and finish getting dressed. When I look down, I notice I’m not the only one excited about my date with Cara.
Down boy, down
.

The Calvin Klein cologne on my dresser seems like a good choice, so I spray it on before I finish getting ready. I brush my hair, run my hands through it a few times to give it more of a messy look, and venture downstairs.

“Okay, Mom, I’m gonna head out!” I call.

She turns around from the sink and gives me an approving nod. “You look great, honey.” She takes a couple of steps towards me and gives me a hug and a wink. “You smell good, too. Have fun.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

I’m tapping the steering wheel the entire ride there. The music isn’t helping to calm my nerves; nor is the sweat building at the back of my neck. As I pull in the driveway, I wipe more sweat that’s gathered at my brow and try to steady myself. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I open the car door and head over to her porch, ring the doorbell, and wait. When she opens the door, she looks different and I almost don’t recognize her. “Your hair,” I say stupidly.

She smiles. “I know.”

“You look amazing.” Her hair hangs bone straight down her back and her eyes are sparkling pools of brown. I hardly know what to say. Closing my mouth might be a good idea. “Wait, let me start again.” I back up a few paces and then step forward. “Hi.”

Her eyes sweep down and back up the length of my body. “Hi,” she says with a growing blush, “come on in.”

I take a minute to drink her in. She’s wearing a pair of jeans that are artfully molded to her every curve and a green ruffled shirt that’s hugging her breasts. Her silky hair is begging me to touch it. I reach out and take a few strands between my fingers. “So, what did you do to your hair?”

“Oh … I just straightened it.” She lets out small bubble of laughter that envelops me.

“I can see that, but why?”

She shrugs, letting her eyes wander to the bookshelf. “I don’t know. I just felt like doing something different.”

I lift my hand and gently bring her face back to mine. “Well, it looks great … but you looked beautiful before.”

She levels me with those alluring eyes and I’ve completely lost all train of thought. “Thanks,” she replies sweetly. “So, what are we doing?”

“Oh, yeah,” I chuckle. “I thought we’d go bowling or to the movies.” I shoot her an excited grin. “Thoughts?”

“I’m okay with either.”

“Okay, let’s go bowling then.”

She jostles me with her shoulder. “I think you just want to see me in those stylish bowling shoes.”

She grabs her purse and I escort her through the front door. I love this carefree side of Cara. When she lets go I really get to see
her
. I’m reminded of that day in the rain when she laughed and it echoed all around me.

I follow her around to the passenger side and this time she says nothing, although I already know what she’s thinking. “Just let me do it,
okay
? I want to.”

“Okay.” She smiles while I help her in and I take a moment to check out the contour of her ass in those jeans.
Wow
.

“Have you ever heard this song before?” I ask as I turn up “Lovely Girl” and steer the car out of the driveway.

She shakes her head. “No. Who sings it?”

“An artist named Matt Pischi.” I hold in a single breath as I say my next words. “It makes me think of you when I hear it.”

She doesn’t say anything, but I can tell she’s listening to the words. When I glance over at her, I see a tear building in the crease of her eye. Then I feel her hand. She reaches over and threads her fingers through mine and my breath catches in my throat. The pull to look over at her is strong, but I hold back because I’m afraid she’ll feel self-conscious and move her hand away. I run my thumb back and forth lightly over her soft, smooth skin. I can only imagine what the rest of her feels like, especially after last night.

The bowling alley’s pretty crowded, but we manage to get a lane. “I’m going to go get our shoes,” I say as she starts to put our names into the computer. “What size do you wear?”

She bends down and takes her shoes off, handing one to me. “Seven and a half.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” When I walk away from her, I can’t help but smile because I know in just another minute I’ll be walking towards her, the whole night ahead of us. If I’m not mistaken, I think the strange feeling working its way around my stomach right now might be butterflies.

I return and hand them to her. “Here are your stylish bowling shoes, my lady.”

She bows. “Why thank you, kind sir.”

I look over at her as she’s slipping on the tawny brown shoes. “So, have you ever bowled before?”

She finishes tying up the laces. “Not that much.”

“Why don’t you go first,” I suggest gallantly.