by Beth Michele
“Goodnight, Evie.”
His figure becomes a shadow as I croak out the words he can no longer hear.
“Goodnight, Dylan.”
I close the door, thankful for something to hold me up. Even looking at the stairs, never mind climbing them, seems daunting to me. Part of me wants to just crash on the couch, but somehow I manage to get my legs moving enough to get me to my room.
The first thing I do is open my dresser drawer and remove the purple pouch, placing the stars in there with my lucky penny. My journal peeks out from behind a striped sock, and I snatch it up.
Sinking down on the bed, I lie on my stomach and open to an empty page. My finger rubs over my bottom lip, my pen hitting the paper with a smile.
I kissed my best friend tonight. It was the best kiss of my life.
P.S. I don’t think he’s my best friend anymore.
My phone rings on the dresser and I practically fall off the bed trying to get to it. It’s eleven, and there’s only one person who calls me this late. Even Nora knows not to bug me because I’m usually reading.
Dylan’s voice lights me up when I hear it, and I grin with the lips he nearly kissed right off of my face.
“Hey, you,” he breathes into the phone, and my insides quiver.
“Hey back.”
“Whatcha doing?” He crunches on something in my ear and I giggle.
“Writing in my journal.” Actually, I’m done but he doesn’t need to know that part.
“About?”
“Dills. It’s a journal for a reason.”
“Hmph. Okay. Well, I just wanted to hear your voice. I know it’s only been ten minutes, but I can’t sleep.”
“You okay?”
“Not really. I can’t stop thinking about how amazing it felt to kiss you… I didn’t want to stop.”
I touch my puffy lips and close my eyes, trying to get my breathing under control. “I know.” I say it so quiet, I’m not sure if he heard me. A minute or two goes by before he responds.
“By the way, Gran is making dinner tomorrow night. Will you come? You can even invite crazy Nora if you want.”
“Absolutely. What can I bring?” I close the journal and roll over on my back, cradling the phone with my shoulder.
“Just you.” He crumples up what I assume is a bag of barbecue potato chips… his favorite. “Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow night around seven… goodnight.”
“Hey, Dills?”
“Yeah?”
“I really did love the stars.”
“I’m glad. Night, Evie.”
“Night,” I whisper, but still hear his soft breaths. “You’re not hanging up.”
“Night infinity,” he says quickly.
“Oh no you don’t. Night for the rest of—”
The line goes dead. He hung up on me. I throw my head back, laughing, and I’m nine years old again.
“Dills, do you hear that?” I asked, snuggling deeper into my sleeping bag, pulling the top of it over my face.
“Hear what?”
“The bear.” My teeth were chattering, but it wasn’t from the cold. I was afraid to go to sleep and get eaten by a bear.
“Hopper. The only things out there are crickets and maybe some owls. Besides, you’ve got me, and I’ll protect you. I can slay bears, you know.” He said it proudly, but it was when he reached for my hand that I wasn’t scared anymore.
“Night, Dills.” I squeezed his hand and he gave mine a little tug.
“Night.”
“Night forever.” I giggled and waited.
“Night infinity.”
“Night for the entire galaxy.”
“Evie. Go to bed. Night.” He was smiling, and I knew he wanted to have the last word.
“Night for the rest of the universe,” I whispered under my breath.
THIS IS RIDICULOUS. My closet is almost empty as the mound of clothes on my bed grows. Yet still I have nothing to wear. I topple back onto the pile with a groan when Nora walks in.
“What are you doing? Auditioning for The Princess and the Pea?” she teases, sprawling her lean body on the other side of my mountain of rejects.
“I don’t have anything to wear,” I whine like a petulant child. She wastes no time, grabbing her oversized black bag from the carpet.
“You do now.” She pulls out what looks like a black corset, waving it seductively in the air and my mouth hangs open.
“No way, Nora. I’m not wearing that. It looks like lingerie.”
“Oh for heaven’s sakes, Evie. It’s a camisole, and you can wear one of your cropped sweaters over it. It will look super cute, and very sexy.” She holds it up against her chest. “After all, isn’t that the look you’re going for? So Dylan takes notice?” I don’t even get a chance to answer before she adds, “You really need to ride the wild bull, and soon. How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”
“Ride the wild bull?” I giggle. “Really, Nora. I mean, who says that?” I shake my head and narrow my eyes at her. “And you know it’s been over a year since I’ve had sex.”
“That’s too long. I’d probably be institutionalized if I had to go that long without it.” She tosses the top at me and it lands on my face. “Now put that on with a pair of skinny jeans. You look hot in those.”
“Fine. But…,” I roll off the stack of clothes and stand up, dangling the camisole by the straps, “I don’t think I can wear a bra with this thing.”
She reclines back in the chair, arms folded across her chest. “Duh. Listen,” she huffs, “you made out with Dylan for hours—which by the way, I’m still waiting for more details—and now you’re worried about a bra? Plus, if you ask me, you need to reward him. He’s probably got a severe case of blue balls.”
There’s no doubt she’s right about that little fact. Dylan was a perfect gentleman. He didn’t even try to touch me, not that I didn’t want him to.
“Okay, you’re right!” I throw up my hands in defeat, staring at her black tank and black jeans, paying extra attention to her pink sneakers. “New chucks?”
“Yup. To go with my hair.” She glides her fingers through her colorful strands. “You like?”
“Affirmative. I also like your hair blown out like that. You’ve got a sexy thing going on, too,” I tell her, sliding off my t-shirt and shorts.
“I don’t have anyone to impress tonight, but I figured what the hell, right?”
“Good God,” I mutter, staring at myself in the full-length mirror. “My boobs look huge in this thing.” I attempt to pull the silky fabric over my cleavage when Nora comes over and slaps my hand away.
“That’s how they’re supposed to look. Now leave it. You look fantastic.”
I stare at her reflection in the mirror. “You think?”
“Oh, I know so,” she smiles, fairly pleased with herself and her fashion choices. “Wait!” She bends down and fishes through her purse. “I almost forgot. I brought you something else.” After a minute, she yanks out a clear, oval-shaped tube.
“Please tell me that’s not a vibrator. Because there’s no way that thing will fit—”
“Now who’s got the dirty mind?” She holds it up with a cheeky grin. “This, my friend, is a nightlight shaped like a tic-tac. I got it at a novelty store. It changes colors and everything. So,” she enlightens me, “now you can have all of your problems solved while you sleep peacefully.”
“Aww… I love it Nora, thanks.” I take it from her, placing it on top of my dresser. “I’ll use it tonight.” I stare at the dolphin nightlight in the corner of my room and sigh. “Remember all those sleepovers we had? How I made my mother turn off all the lights because I couldn’t fall asleep with even the slightest hint of light. I guess things can change in an instant. Hmph,” I sigh, “maybe someday I’ll be able to get rid of it. I am nineteen, after all.”
“It is what it is, sweets. There are no time limits. If you need it, you need it. And besides,” she winks, “when it’s shaped like a vibrator
, you can’t go wrong.”
“All right,” I shrug off the memory, “let me just put a drop of makeup on and we can go.”
I saunter over to the dresser to open my very sparse cosmetics bag. Typically, I don’t use much makeup, but tonight I want to wear a little something.
I dust a light rose blush on the apples of my cheeks and add a thin layer of gloss in a similar color to my lips. With my fingers, I comb through my waves to give them a tousled look, before spinning around to get the final approval from my fashion consultant. Holding my arms out to the side, I do a slow twirl in front of her.
“Well?”
“I’ve got one word for you, girlfriend. Amazing. Now let’s go make Dylan drool. All over your girls, if you’re lucky.
“Wait a minute.” She stops at the bottom of the stairs, looking down at my feet. “What’s with the sandals? You need a low heel instead.”
“Nora. The last thing I need is extra height. I think I’m good.”
“Look at it this way,” she grins and puckers, “a few more inches and you’ll be even with his lips.”
“Good point. Be right back.”
A minute later, I re-emerge with a pair of slingback heels and she nods her approval. “Okay, let’s go.” I’m about to step foot outside when I remember the tulips for Grandma Molly. “Wait, I forgot the flowers. Let me just grab them.”
The walk across the street seems to take forever. My heart pounds like a drum in my ears and my belly is twisted in knots. Dylan’s kisses are on instant replay in my head while my body is branded from the feel of him on top of me.
“Yoohoo? Are you going to knock?” Nora’s voice lures me back and I adjust my camisole one more time. “Stop fussing, and actually, let me go first.” She wedges herself between me and the door. “That way he can have extra time to ogle.”
“You think of everything, Nora. What would I ever do without you?”
The door opens and my pulse soars, the world disappearing around me. I rarely see Dylan in anything but a t-shirt and ripped jeans, but not tonight. A white collared shirt rolled up at the sleeves reveals golden forearms, loose-fitting dark jeans hug his sculptured waist. Brown eyes sparkle under a mess of dark hair, damp from an apparent shower. I squeeze my hands at my sides to quell the urge to run my fingers through it again. And while he looks good in those clothes, my brain is already conjuring up ways to remove them. He smiles as if he knows what I’m thinking, the twitch of his dimple prominent even through the dusting of stubble lining his jaw. God, he’s gorgeous.
“Hey, Dylan,” Nora greets him as she strolls into the house.
“Nora.” His eyes fall on me as he does a slow perusal of my body, working his way down, lingering on the dip between my breasts, then coming back to my face. My skin is on fire from his gaze.
“Wow, you look…,” his smile is contemplative, “I was going to say… beautiful, but that’s too generic. You’re…,” his knuckles brush down my cheek, “like the burnt oranges and pale pinks in the landscape as it shifts from dawn to dusk. That first bright star as it clears the night sky. You’re breathtaking, Evie.”
The air is knocked from my lungs. His words slide over my skin like melted butter, and I find myself leaning into his touch, wanting more of his words, his thoughts, his… everything. Without hesitation, I let my lips find the corner of his mouth, so close to where I want them, yet still so far away.
“Thank you,” I whisper, our cheeks pressed close together. He sighs a long breath of air against my skin that makes me shiver. Nerves rattle my belly so I do what I do best—lighten the moment.
“Keep wooing, you’re getting better,” I tease, and his smile caresses the deepest part of me.
“Come on.” He weaves his fingers through mine and leads me into the kitchen. The smell of basil, garlic, and fresh tomatoes fills the air. That can only mean one thing. Grandma Molly is making her famous chicken parmesan.
“There you are.” She glances down at our hands with a smile before I present her with the flowers. She brings them to her nose, sniffing their aroma. “These are lovely. Thank you, Evie. That was very sweet of you.”
I’m about to reply when Dylan’s warm breath fans my ear. “And I know firsthand just how sweet you are,” he whispers, and suddenly I’m breathless and lightheaded, my body way too hot.
“Okay, so while I put these in water, I’m going to need a taste tester. Evie, you up for it?” Grandma Molly waves the wooden spoon like a wand and I reach out and take it with my free hand, grateful for the distraction.
“Wait a minute. I want in, too,” Nora says, perched on a stool, swinging her pink clad foot as she munches on an apple.
“Nora, your taste buds are skewed now. Sorry, you can’t partake,” I inform her, and she sticks her tongue out at me.
Anxious and hungry, I step up to the oversized silver pot on the stove, my stomach rumbling as the scent of oregano passes under my nose. I close my eyes and inhale, all the while feeling Dylan’s gaze sliding over my skin as if he were touching me.
I dip the spoon in the sauce and bring it to my lips, knowing he’s watching me. The tangy flavor fills my mouth, a little spicy, a little sweet. Memories of the occasional Sunday dinner with Grandma Molly float through my mind.
“Dylan, Evie, time for dinner,” Grandma Molly called out in her singsong voice.
“I’ll race you, Hopper,” Dylan yelled, jumping down from the tree and trying to get a head start. “First one to the house gets the giant Tootsie Roll Grandma bought at the corner store.”
“It’s mine, Dills, I’m on your tail,” I screamed, running super fast. Luckily I had long legs. But somehow, he still managed to win.
“Won again,” he bragged, bouncing into a seat at the table.
I gave him the evil eye. “That’s because I let you win.”
“Whatever, Hopper.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Tootsie Roll, tossing it at me with a shrug. I tried not to smile, but couldn’t help it. And he smiled right back.
“Oh no,” Grandma Molly took off her apron, “now you two go and wash those hands, and don’t forget to get under those nails, too.” She gave Dylan a tiny smack on the butt and we took off up the stairs, laughing.
“Good?” Dylan asks, and I blink a few times to remember where I am.
“Yes.” I turn to him. “You want to try?” He nods and opens his mouth, grinning. I realize I’m staring and the spoon hasn’t made it to his lips. “Don’t mess with me, this wouldn’t look too good all over that white shirt.”
Then again, he’d have to take it off.
“Is that a threat?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I feed him the sauce, a bit of it spilling on the side of his mouth. I reach out with my thumb to swipe it away, when he catches my finger and sucks it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it to get every last drop.
Holy hell.
Desire explodes between my legs like a raging wildfire and I’m hit with the sudden urge to press my thighs together to find relief.
Dylan’s eyes darken, all playfulness gone as the heat of his gaze threatens the stability of my legs. Keenly aware of our audience and the quiet that has shrouded the kitchen, I take possession of my hand and find the courage to break our stare. The gods must be smiling down on me because Braden walks in and the sexual tension dissipates.
“Hey, Red.” Braden greets me and nods his chin at Dylan. “Grandma Molly, aren’t you looking good?” Finally discovering Nora sitting in the corner, he says, “Well, well, if it isn’t Nora Clemmons. How ya doing sweetheart?”
“Good, Braden James. And I’m not your sweetheart.”
“As feisty as ever, Nora.” He lets out a deep, hearty chuckle. “What smells so good in here?”
“Braden James,” Grandma starts, “is that car grease on your hands?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Get on upstairs and get washed properly for dinner.” Braden’s attention goes to his hands and he winces. I love Gra
ndma Molly’s ability to put even a bruiser like Braden in his place.
He pushes past Dylan, who heads for the cabinet and takes out plates and bowls to set the table. I’m still holding the darn spoon, shockwaves coursing through my finger at the after effects of Dylan’s tongue, my finger, his mouth… oh God.
I dart across the kitchen, clutching Nora’s arm. “Come on, Nora. Let’s go help get the table ready.” We cross the living room, almost bumping into Jordan on his way in. “Hey, sorry,” I mumble, taking a huge gulp of air once we steal away.
“What’s wrong with you?” Nora whispers in the corner of the room. “Oh wait, I know. Oh my God… that was so hot. Maybe I should’ve brought you an extra pair of panties with that top.” She laughs and I scowl at her.
“Not funny, Nora!” I whisper-shout. “Help me get the tablecloth on. I need something to do with my hands.”
“I don’t think your hands are the problem.” She bites back a giggle and I toss her another dirty look. “Just jump his bones and get it over with.”
“Shhh!”
“Sorry to interrupt the witches’ brew, but I’d like to catch up with Nora.” Braden extends his tattooed arm, but looks to me first. “Red, you mind?”
“No, I—”
“Hey, I think you should be asking me that question, James,” she protests, but in the end, Braden’s shameless charm wins out and she walks off with him, casting a flirtatious grin over her shoulder.
I finish with the linens and glance up, only to be bathed in the warmth of Dylan’s gaze. He’s leaning against the archway, arms crossed over his chest. A smile that I’m starting to realize belongs only to me, the one that makes my belly quiver, lines his lips. Seconds go by that we’re lost in each other’s eyes, before he stalks toward me.
“Hi.” He wraps a strand of my hair around his finger, idly twirling it. His expression seems apologetic. “I can’t stop staring at you, Evie. You look so pretty.”
“Who’s asking you to stop?” I edge forward and brush my lips against his. “Not me,” I whisper, his raw honesty making me brave. The scent of him permeates the air, filling me with need. I want to be alone with him right now more than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time.
