“Because it’s not very romantic.” I pat the side of his face playfully, and he turns his head and blows a raspberry into my palm, holding my hand to his mouth much longer than he should.
He chuckles as he says, “I really wasn’t going for romance at the time.”
I laugh. “I could tell.”
“I just wanted you to know how I was feeling.” He’s still laughing.
I want to see him laugh like this every day for the rest of our lives. Oh, shit. Where did that come from? I step back from him, because I just scared myself. A day is one thing. A lifetime is another.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. He cups my face in his hands.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking free of his hold with a gentle twist.
“Something is wrong,” he says. He glares at me.
“We’re going to be late if we don’t get moving,” I warn. “Are you ready?”
He nods, but his brow is furrowed.
He follows me to the door and into the hallway, closing the door behind us. I have my purse over my shoulder and he tangles his fingers up with mine. He tugs them gently until I look at him. “I’m sorry I was crude,” he says. He looks into my eyes and I feel like I could fall into him and stay there forever. But I can’t.
I hold up my thumb and forefinger and show him the tiny space between them. “I have a teeny tiny confession,” I say.
His brow arches. “Do tell.”
I don’t look at him as I say, “I kind of liked it.”
“Liked what?” he says, a question in his gaze. Then he says, “Oh.” He jerks a thumb toward the room. “Crude does it for you, huh?” he says. He’s grinning again, and he’s so handsome when he’s happy. He was born pretty, but when he’s happy, he glows. He chucks my shoulder with his. “Gets your panties wet.” He covers his mouth. “Oops,” he says. “You’re not wearing any.”
“Shh!” I hiss as people get into the elevator with us. He pulls me to stand in front of him with his hand on my waist, while the other dips down and squeezes my butt cheek. My heart flips in my chest. I bat at his hand behind me and catch it, drawing it around to press it against my belly. But then his thumb slides across the underside of my breast. I hiss in a breath. “Stop it,” I mouth, glaring at him in the mirror. He sticks his face in my neck and chuckles against my skin.
I don’t know where this intimacy came from, but it feels so right. And so wrong at the same time, because I know he’s not at a place in his life where he can accept more from me. And I can’t ask him to give me anything because he has nothing left in the hole that is his heart. He has to fill it up for himself before he can give any to me. I know that, and it makes me sad. But he laughs again into my neck and I forget my trepidation. I have the rest of the night to enjoy.
We step out into the street and I immediately wish I had a coat that looks nice. But all I had was my old college sweater and jeans and they are now stuffed into my purse. I shiver lightly. He immediately shrugs out of his suit coat and places it around my shoulders. “Can’t have you freezing,” he says.
“What about you?” I ask, tugging his coat closer. “You’re going to get cold.”
He laughs. “I could use a little cooling off.” He waggles his brows at me. His fingers tangle with mine again and he points. There’s a carriage waiting in the street. One drawn by a horse. “Your chariot awaits,” he says.
I look at him. “Did you call for this?” I ask.
He nods. “When you were in the shower.”
I smile at him and look into his eyes. “This was on your list.”
“And yours, too,” he says. He leans down and kisses my nose.
I narrow my eyes at him. “How did you know that?”
“Doesn’t every girl want to ride in a horse-drawn carriage?” he says, but he’s still grinning. He helps me, and as I step onto the platform, he whistles softly when the wind blows my skirt around my knees.
“Oh, would you stop?” I say. But I secretly hope he doesn’t.
Daniel
I have no idea what happened during the show. I spent too much time watching Faith. She was entranced. Her breath caught when she was scared, and she laid a hand on her chest when she was moved, and she squeezed my thigh when she wanted to make sure I saw what she saw. But all I see is her. Her eyes fill with tears and I pull out my handkerchief, because men always carry handkerchiefs just for this reason, and hand it to her. She dabs at her eyes and shoots me a glance.
“I see you,” I say quietly to her.
“Well, I hope so,” she whispers back.
I look into her eyes. “No, Faith. I mean I really see you. I see you. All of you.”
She looks away from me, and toward the stage. But she squeezes my hand and dabs at her eyes again.
She doesn’t speak again until the end of the performance, and she gets up and claps along with everyone else. She turns to me. “Just in case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time today.”
A grin tugs at my lips. I follow her from the theater with my hand at her back.
“Are you ready to go to Rocko’s?” she asks.
I am absolutely starving. The only thing either of us has had to eat was a snack I bought at intermission. She’s been with me all day. She has to be as hungry as I am. “It’s close, right?” I remember going there with my mom, but it has been a number of years.