Knocking Boots - Willow Winters Page 0,41
gets shorter.
Charlie takes his time, eyeing the menu written out on the board to the right of the stand. “It’s kind of like funnel cake, but in ball form.” I whisper getting closer to him, as if it’s some big secret I’m confessing.
“I guess I’ll take one and I want the whipped cream too.”
I order easy enough and reach into my clutch, ready to pay since I offered. Charlie beats me to it though.
“Hey,” I protest watching him hand over the cash. “It was my treat,” my tone is wounded.
“Nonsense,” he answers, taking the change and then both of our paper boats of dusted donuts. “It’s my date,” he nods and passes me the fried deliciousness I’ve been craving.
“Well thank you.”
It’s obvious by the way his lips part that he was going to say something, but a bit of cream slipped off the top of a hot donut and hits his wrist.
I must be crazy, because Charlie licking off that dollop of whipped cream turns up the temperature around me to about a thousand. A second passes as we step out of line.
My body heats, igniting with desire as I bite my lip, and see his gaze drop to my lips. I suddenly realize that I want him to kiss me. No, need him to kiss me.
I lean in just a fraction, rising on my tiptoes to kiss him and close my eyes, his lips mold against mine. The touch is electric, filling my whole body with a restless energy. The kiss is slow, not pushing for anything more, but that just makes it all the sweeter.
When we pull away, my whole body is covered with goosebumps, my breathing labored.
What really gets my heart racing, though, is the fact that the same expression is on his face. Our eyes meet, and it’s so intense that I wimp out.
I look away and laugh, and the tension breaks.
“Is that how you say thank you for donuts all the time?” he asks mildly. “I could add these to the menu.”
Another laugh leaves me at his joke. “Maybe,” I say with a shrug.
Silence stretches, but it’s easy. Everything suddenly feels easy and like it’s supposed to be this way.
I try not to think of the details because, right now, it’s just perfect.
Charlie
As I walk Grace back to our cars, I can’t help thinking that I don’t remember the last time I took a day off.
There’s a reason I work my ass off.
I go after what I want, and what I want right now, more than wanting the bar to be stable, is her.
I lean close to her ear, letting my warm breath tickle her neck and sending goosebumps over every inch of her body as I ask, “You have a good time tonight?” The sun’s setting, the crickets are out, and everything about this moment is picture perfect.
“You know I did.” Her shoulders shake with a soft laugh and she pushes me away slightly, a bit of space coming between us as we walk through the grass of the park. I’m quick to close the gap, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze before pulling her back to me.
“Does this count as a first date?” my voice carries through the dark night.
“A date? All you asked was if I wanted funnel cake,” she answers with a wide grin as she looks straight ahead.
“Well who doesn’t love funnel cake?” I respond without thinking.
Grace rips her hand from mine, covering her face with a laugh before shaking her head. I love that sound. She practically skips a few steps to get back to me, that beautiful smile still etched on her face. My chest feels warm and full.
But I know this is temporary unless I do and say the right things. Committing to things in life that I am not ready for. It feels like a date, but a girl like her needs more than a hot dog, cola and fried donuts.
The night's still young.
The clouds seem to dim a bit more as the noises from the people leaving the festival behind us fade. We’re some of the last people to leave.
Grace clears her throat in a polite fashion as we pass the last tent. The sky’s darkening and dry lightning is in the far-off distance, brightening the horizon before leaving us in darkness with a loud crash. It’s comforting though, and each time it happens, Grace steps a little closer to me. Her small body practically molded to mine as we leave the festival