car. Hoping our night wasn’t quite over, I hovered at the trunk as he pushed them in.
“ They weren’t heavy,” I said. “I could have carried them.”
“ No,” he said. “I wanted to.”
He shut the trunk and gave me a smile. “Thanks, Mia,” he said. “For watching Ferdinand and tonight.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t a problem. Any time.”
He took a step towards me and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. He was watching me closely, trying to make sure I wanted whatever he was about to give. Afraid he might read me wrong, I brought my hands to his stomach and pulled him closer.
Paul took his hands and cradled my face, brushing my hair back.
The light of the streetlamp illuminated us. I heard voices—his neighbors out on their patios or getting into their cars. They were completely unaware of how monumental this moment was.
His smile—his crooked, lopsided smile—nestled into my heart and my eyes grew heavy. Kiss me, Paul. Please, kiss me.
Our noses brushed. My hands gripped his shirt. His mouth touched mine.
Once. Soft. Gentle. I sighed, my knees feeling weak.
Twice. Firm. Open. When our tongues brushed, I felt his moan all the way to the tips of my toes. His hands were tender, touching my cheeks and neck with sweet affection.
I refused to pull away. We could stand here all night under a buzzing florescent streetlight, and I’d want to stand longer. I opened my mouth wider, giving him more and he pulled me up against him. My hands abandoned their position on his shirt and tangled into his hair.
Paul kissed me with the same intensity as he looked into my eyes. Searching. Seeking.
He moaned, pressing his forehead against mine. Our mouths hovered over each other, quick breaths bleeding together.
A car sped by. “Get a room!” a man yelled from the open window. I chuckled as the thumping bass died away.
Paul smiled and pulled back to look at me.
“ Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“ Yes. Absolutely yes,” I said.
He gave me another quick kiss. “I’ll call you,” he said and walked back to his apartment.
I drove home unable to stop from smiling the entire ride.
CHAPTER NINE
I PRACTICALLY PRANCED UP the steps to my apartment. Nothing could bring me down from my high. Not the angry music beating against my door. Not my fumbling fingers as I dropped my keys. Not the mess of clothes and trash scattered across my living room. Not even the two people fornicating on my dining room table. Wait.
I screeched, quickly closing my eyes. They noticed me, yelping out in surprise.
“ I, uh, I, uh…”
I was walking, or trying to, suddenly unsure of where I should go or what I should be saying. The music turned off and I stumbled towards my bedroom.
Finally, I found my voice. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“ No worries, Mamma Mia. Ain’t nothing you haven’t seen before.”
Ugh. Fiona and Fontenot. On our kitchen table.
“ Puts some clothes on,” I yelled shutting my bedroom door.
His obnoxious chuckle put a scowl on my face.
All right. There was one thing that could bring me down from my high. Seeing Fontenot’s naked behind, smearing his sweat and, eww, whatever else all over my home.
The two of them burst out laughing, finding their unexpected show amusing. I had a feeling Fiona was only going along with it. This wasn’t really her. She was trying to act carefree and fearless in front of Fontenot. Any other time she would have been mortified.
What does she see in him?
Not wanting to see or hear them again, I turned on my stereo and lay on my bed.
Paul.
Paul Macione had kissed me. I smiled up at the ceiling, loving the excitement and joy that coursed through me. It had been over a year since I’d met him, and finally, after months and months of waiting and wondering, he finally kissed me. An elated chuckle burst from my mouth. Was he really going to call me tomorrow? Was I going to go out with him again? Where would he take me?
With a pleased
“ They weren’t heavy,” I said. “I could have carried them.”
“ No,” he said. “I wanted to.”
He shut the trunk and gave me a smile. “Thanks, Mia,” he said. “For watching Ferdinand and tonight.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t a problem. Any time.”
He took a step towards me and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. He was watching me closely, trying to make sure I wanted whatever he was about to give. Afraid he might read me wrong, I brought my hands to his stomach and pulled him closer.
Paul took his hands and cradled my face, brushing my hair back.
The light of the streetlamp illuminated us. I heard voices—his neighbors out on their patios or getting into their cars. They were completely unaware of how monumental this moment was.
His smile—his crooked, lopsided smile—nestled into my heart and my eyes grew heavy. Kiss me, Paul. Please, kiss me.
Our noses brushed. My hands gripped his shirt. His mouth touched mine.
Once. Soft. Gentle. I sighed, my knees feeling weak.
Twice. Firm. Open. When our tongues brushed, I felt his moan all the way to the tips of my toes. His hands were tender, touching my cheeks and neck with sweet affection.
I refused to pull away. We could stand here all night under a buzzing florescent streetlight, and I’d want to stand longer. I opened my mouth wider, giving him more and he pulled me up against him. My hands abandoned their position on his shirt and tangled into his hair.
Paul kissed me with the same intensity as he looked into my eyes. Searching. Seeking.
He moaned, pressing his forehead against mine. Our mouths hovered over each other, quick breaths bleeding together.
A car sped by. “Get a room!” a man yelled from the open window. I chuckled as the thumping bass died away.
Paul smiled and pulled back to look at me.
“ Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“ Yes. Absolutely yes,” I said.
He gave me another quick kiss. “I’ll call you,” he said and walked back to his apartment.
I drove home unable to stop from smiling the entire ride.
CHAPTER NINE
I PRACTICALLY PRANCED UP the steps to my apartment. Nothing could bring me down from my high. Not the angry music beating against my door. Not my fumbling fingers as I dropped my keys. Not the mess of clothes and trash scattered across my living room. Not even the two people fornicating on my dining room table. Wait.
I screeched, quickly closing my eyes. They noticed me, yelping out in surprise.
“ I, uh, I, uh…”
I was walking, or trying to, suddenly unsure of where I should go or what I should be saying. The music turned off and I stumbled towards my bedroom.
Finally, I found my voice. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“ No worries, Mamma Mia. Ain’t nothing you haven’t seen before.”
Ugh. Fiona and Fontenot. On our kitchen table.
“ Puts some clothes on,” I yelled shutting my bedroom door.
His obnoxious chuckle put a scowl on my face.
All right. There was one thing that could bring me down from my high. Seeing Fontenot’s naked behind, smearing his sweat and, eww, whatever else all over my home.
The two of them burst out laughing, finding their unexpected show amusing. I had a feeling Fiona was only going along with it. This wasn’t really her. She was trying to act carefree and fearless in front of Fontenot. Any other time she would have been mortified.
What does she see in him?
Not wanting to see or hear them again, I turned on my stereo and lay on my bed.
Paul.
Paul Macione had kissed me. I smiled up at the ceiling, loving the excitement and joy that coursed through me. It had been over a year since I’d met him, and finally, after months and months of waiting and wondering, he finally kissed me. An elated chuckle burst from my mouth. Was he really going to call me tomorrow? Was I going to go out with him again? Where would he take me?
With a pleased
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