Pure Hearts

by Jeannine Allison

  “What is this?”

  “‘Shake It’ by Metro Station. Ever heard of them?”

  “I can’t say I have.”

  “Oh. Well, it’s a great song to dance to.”

  “Clearly.”

  Iris finally called me out. “This isn’t dancing,” she said as she spread my arms and looked down at me. She faked a shiver and put on a look of disgust, but all the while her lips tipped up.

  “It’s as much dancing as you’re going to get.”

  She pouted, her breathing becoming more labored as she continued to dance enough for the both of us. When I figured we had less than a minute left to the song, I tried a little harder. Shaking my own ass with enthusiasm and bobbing my head to the beat.

  Iris shrieked, squeezing my hands as she closed her eyes and lost herself in the music. My movements slowed again—unintentionally this time—as I took her in. It was beautiful to watch her be completely comfortable with who she was. And Iris had no idea.

  I’d thought she was beautiful when I first met her. Anyone with eyes could have seen how gorgeous she was. But this hot-burning attraction that seemed to sizzle in the air whenever she was around was one hundred percent her personality, which made all the things I’d already adored even more stunning.

  I knew some women thought being silly was a turn-off, and maybe to some men it was. But never to me. That was what I wanted from a woman: sexy and silly.

  The song switched and a light melody floated through the living room. Iris immediately stopped and moved toward the dock. I stopped her by grabbing her hand. She couldn’t hide her surprise as her eyes lifted to mine. Honestly it was a bit of a surprise to me too. I’d hated dancing with Colleen.

  Iris’s expression transformed to one of delight. She placed her other hand on my shoulder and we slowly began to sway back and forth. Now that she was pressed against me, without thoughts of Amanda and my abysmal personality clouding my mind, I could appreciate it a bit more. And I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which Iris in my arms could possibly be anything less than wonderful.

  Her heart thudded against my chest, pounding like it was trying to get out, like it was too great to stay in her body. I could barely detect a difference in mine—my heart was beating only slightly faster than usual. And to me those differences seemed to speak volumes about how different we were.

  Iris was living to the fullest. She was doing everything she wanted. She was living life to her extreme and feeling so much joy her heart wanted to beat out of her chest with the excitement of it all. And me? Mine was only pumping slightly harder. I existed, and then there were those rare moments when I dared for something more. But I never lived to my fullest.

  I’d been working at Kevin’s place for nearly three years, and while I loved it, something I’d never told anyone—not my two best friends, not even my mother—was that I wanted more. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’d dreamed of starting my own restaurant. But I never did anything with it.

  I didn’t want to be a passerby in my life anymore. Just letting things happen to me. I wanted to make things happen. Iris’s soft voice interrupted my thoughts.

  “Nick?”

  “Hmmm?” I looked down to see her frowning. “What’s wrong?”

  “I was going to ask you that.” She nodded between us. “You stopped.”

  I stared down at my feet, like I didn’t know what they were doing and had no control over them. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was just thinking.”

  “’Bout what?”

  We stayed close together, my arms wrapped around her waist and hers looped around my neck, the tips of her fingers ghosting along my hairline.

  “Can I tell you something kind of silly?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think I want to open my own restaurant one day.”

  Her eyes widened and she straightened. “That’s not silly at all.” She slapped my chest. “I didn’t know you were thinking about doing that. Catherine never mentioned it…”

  We both smiled. Yes, my mother had a habit of telling everyone every accomplishment I’d ever made. I wouldn’t be surprised if, when I was younger, she told the grocery clerk right when I wiped my ass for the first time.

  “She doesn’t know,” I confided.

  Iris’s eyes softened. “She doesn’t?” I shook my head. “What about Kevin? Have you gotten his advice?”

  She was asking one question, but I knew it was meant to answer several others.

  Am I the only one you’ve told?

  Are we becoming more than we’ve been?

  “He doesn’t know either.” I roughly swallowed, my hands tightening their grip on her hips and pulling her forward.

  One of Iris’s hands came up to brush some of the hair out of my face. “I think it’s a wonderful idea, Nick.”

  “Yeah?” I asked. I feared people would think I was just some foolish kid with a dream, and that nothing would possibly come from it.

  “At the risk of sounding like an after-school special, you can do anything you set your mind to.”

  “You really believe that, don’t you?” I asked, more to myself than her.

  “Of course. If you want to start your own restaurant, I believe you can. I’ll even help you if you want.”

  I didn’t doubt that for a second. She really, truly believed in me. And I could tell she would stop at nothing until I had my dream. Iris was that kind of friend. She stood by you and broke down barriers with you, all while giving you the credit. She was adaptable and optimistic.

  Iris did more than just make lemonade out of lemons. She made the lemonade, planted the seeds to grow a damn tree, and probably used the peel for some kind of crazy skin scrub (that was a thing, right?).

  She was smiling up at me, waiting for an answer.

  I didn’t know how, but she was always smiling. If I walked around with a perma-grin like hers, I’d look like the Joker on crack. She made it look effortless, like smiles were made for her face. And I suddenly found myself wondering what her smile would taste like, if I were to slowly press my lips against hers and steal that smile for myself. I imagined her tasting like lemon, sweet and fresh, and before I was tempted to find out, I stepped back.

  “I’d like your help.”

  “Done,” she answered easily. My eyes moved to the clock on the wall; it was thirty minutes past nine. I needed a distraction that wasn’t her lips.

  “Wanna watch a movie?”

  Iris nodded and walked me over to her DVD case. “Pick whatever you want.”

  “It’s your house.”

  “And you’re my guest,” she countered.

  Rolling my eyes, I blindly picked something. I didn’t think I’d be able to focus on it anyway. Iris put in the DVD while I walked back to the couch, picking up my beer and draining it.

  “Mind if I grab another?”

  “Not at all,” she said, back still to me.

  “Do you want more wine?”

  She turned around then, face still flushed, probably from the wine and dancing. “Better not. I’ll probably grab some iced tea in a bit.”

  I saw the pitcher when I went to grab my beer. Pulling it out, I started looking for a glass. I finished up and moved back to the couch where Iris was already sitting. She beamed when I handed her the tea.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  My eyes were forward, but I could feel her watching me. When I glanced at her, she was assessing me for… something.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  Iris took a deep breath before putting the tea down and swiveling to face me. “I’m going to ask you something. And it might be a bad idea to ask it right now since we’ll be stuck here for two hours, or it might just be a bad idea altogether… either way, I’m going to ask.”

  “Shoot.” Putting my bottle down, I turned her way and gave her the same amount of attention. I tried not to worry about what she was going to say, but knowing I was going to end this night asking her out
had me fearing every word out of her mouth.

  Her eyes stayed unwaveringly on mine as she asked, “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

  I froze. Was she really asking me out? It seemed impossible considering I was still fifty percent certain she was going to turn me down.

  I must have stayed quiet too long because she frowned and turned back toward the TV. “I made it weird, huh? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, just forget it.” She smiled before reaching forward and grabbing the remote.

  Forget it?

  Like hell.

  I was still partially frozen, watching as she continued on like everything was normal. The tips of her ears were red, but that was the only indication she was embarrassed. She wasn’t going to make me feel bad, and I doubt she would think less of herself. It was so refreshing, she was so refreshing, how could she think I’d say no?

  Maybe because you didn’t say yes, idiot…

  Oh, that.

  “Iris.” I moved down the couch until I was right next to her, and placed my hand on her arm.

  “Yeah?” She met my eyes.

  “Yes.” She raised her eyebrows. “I only hesitated because I was surprised.”

  “That a woman did the asking?”

  Shaking my head, I chuckled. “Maybe a little bit of that. I mean, I’ve seen it happen a few times, but nothing this sincere. That wasn’t really what surprised me though.”

  “What was?”

  “That I was planning on asking you out before I left tonight.”

  Her eyes flickered with an emotion I couldn’t pinpoint, as her lips tipped up. “Really?”

  “Really,” I confirmed with a nod.

  The opening credits played while we stared at each other with goofy grins.

  “Next Friday?” she asked.

  I frowned—that was a week away. “We can still see each other between then, right?”

  Iris giggled. “Of course. I have a family thing tomorrow, otherwise I’d make it then.”

  “It’s not a problem.” And it wasn’t. I was just anxious to finally take her out.

  We were both still smiling as Iris used another remote to dim the lights and we settled back against the couch. I didn’t go back to my end, and she didn’t seem to mind. At some point we moved until our sides were touching and my arm was resting on her shoulders.

  Somehow we managed not to take it any further. But I was pretty sure it was going to be torture this next week, waiting for Friday.

  Iris and I hugged once more before I left, and I drove home in a blur, everything else clouded by my excitement. The first thing I did when I got to my apartment was something I should have done a week ago, as soon as I first started using it.

  I went to my nightstand, pulled out my “grateful” journal, and added one more thing to the list.

  Iris.

  I was nervous.

  Which was really fucking ridiculous. How a twenty-eight-year-old man was scared to go on a date was beyond me, but there was no denying it. My palms were sweaty and my mouth felt uncomfortably dry. It was a little after noon on the following Saturday. Once I figured out what I wanted to do for her, I asked Iris if we could change the date from Friday to Saturday.

  I was dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt. When I told her to be ready this early and to wear something she’d be comfortable in, she spent all week trying to figure out what we’d be doing. Every morning I woke up with a text from her trying to guess. She never got close.

  Slamming the door, I walked around my car and toward her house. I swallowed, hoping to alleviate my dry throat, and quickly banged on her door three times. She was equally fast in answering, almost like she was waiting nearby. The idea that I wasn’t alone in my excitement and nerves made me feel better, but it didn’t calm my racing heart.

  Iris was wearing jeans, a lightweight navy blue sweater, and boots that went to her ankles. Her makeup was minimal, maybe just some blush and whatever that black stuff was girls put on their eyelashes. It didn’t really matter. I’d seen her with no makeup, with a completely made up face, and various things in between, and she always looked beautiful.

  The idealistic part of me thought that maybe it was all her goodness shining through. Then I remembered what I saw when she walked into my hospital room all those months ago, and I knew she was one of those rare few whose inner beauty matched her outer beauty.

  I’d never considered myself homely, but every time I looked at her I couldn’t help but feel out of my league. Not because I was insecure with myself, but because I was so in awe of her.

  I’d been standing there for several minutes, jaw hanging open and eyes devouring her, before I realized I was one or two mannerisms away from looking like a cartoon character in love. It wasn’t until I met her eyes that I realized she had been doing the exact same thing.

  God, she was gorgeous. How was I supposed to make it through an entire date—especially the lengthy one I had planned—not knowing what her lips tasted like? They looked pillow-soft, and I licked my own in response.

  “I just… I need to do this before we go,” I whispered, lifting my gaze to meet hers. Iris’s eyes widened and her breathing stalled. Making my intentions known, I moved closer, slowly lifting my hands and cupping her cheeks. “I won’t be able to concentrate if I don’t, which will lead to another car accident, and then you’d have to give me another organ…” I cracked a smile as she chuckled, some of her nerves floating away. “It’d be a mess.”

  “We wouldn’t want that…” Iris trailed off, breathless, with a sweetness to her voice that I didn’t think I’d ever get used to.

  “No, definitely not,” I whispered. I nervously swallowed before my hands tunneled into her hair, gently cradling the back of her head. She froze for a moment, almost like she couldn’t believe this was happening. Her body quickly relaxed. Then her eyelids lowered and the small smile that had been on her face disappeared with the slight parting of her lips.

  Eyes closed and head tipped back, she was waiting for me.

  I took my time, slowly shuffling forward until I had her back against the door. Her hands came up and gripped my biceps, her chin jutting out just a little bit. No words passed her lips, but she was speaking all the same.

  Kiss me. Hurry.

  My lips involuntarily tipped up as I teased her a little bit longer, trailing my hands down her cheeks to the sides of her neck, my thumbs meeting in the center to slowly caress the skin between her collarbones. To anyone looking in it would probably look like I was strangling her, stealing her breath and life. They’d be wrong. She was stealing mine.

  She stole it every time I looked at her.

  And she ripped apart my life—in the best way possible—and changed everything I thought I knew. Every time she spoke or did something remarkably kind, I was rethinking everything.

  I was staring at my thumbs when Iris softly moaned, dragging my attention to her face. Her eyes were still closed, but the skin between her eyebrows was pinched. Leaning forward, I kissed her there, feeling it stretch and smooth. My lips moved down the bridge of her nose, not applying any extra pressure, just a slow drag, until I reached the tip. I placed the softest kiss there before slowly withdrawing and moving down. Our faces were no more than an inch apart, our mouths so close I could feel the heat off hers. It pulled me in until my mouth rested against hers.

  Finally.

  And that soft, almost innocent, touch was all we needed. It was like the shotgun at the start of a race, and once we heard that sound—or felt that first touch—all bets were off… we were off.

  Our mouths opened at the same time, trading moans and immediately seeking out the other’s tongue. My skin instantly heated and everywhere she touched felt like a spark of electricity.

  Her hands drifted up my arms, gripping my shoulders and trying to pull me closer. I skimmed my hands down the front of her until I reached the top of her jeans. Winding my arms around her waist, I tugged her flush against me, allowing her arms
to wrap around my neck. Iris’s fingers sought refuge in my hair, and I groaned loud and long at the contact. She responded by pulling my lower lip between her teeth, lightly nipping, before soothing it with her tongue.

  It felt like we’d been kissing for hours when we finally broke apart, panting. I immediately dove back in, only to discover the Beatles were wrong—love was definitely not all we needed. We also needed oxygen, which was pretty damn inconvenient right now.

  This time we were laughing as we pulled away from one another.

  “I haven’t…” She trailed off and shook her head.

  “What?” I whispered, unable to stop myself from placing a soft kiss on the corner of her lips. She brought one hand up to her mouth. Leaning back, I watched her trace her lips, and I swear to God, I could see the stars in her eyes.

  “It’s never… I don’t…”

  She was flustered and speechless, but I knew exactly what she was trying to say. Because I’d never felt anything like that before either.

  In theory, it should have been like any other mind-numbing kiss. But it was nowhere close; there was no comparison. I wasn’t sure what made it so different. Were her lips softer? Her hands greedier? Her moans raspier? Her bites a little sharper?

  None of those seemed exactly right… it was all just more.

  Iris’s kiss was what I imagined taking the first hit of a new drug would be like. It was exhilarating, and unlike anything I’d ever experienced. There was a delicious buzz going through my head even as my entire body felt relaxed, practically melting against her.

  People always said that nothing was like the first time. Nothing compared to the first taste. That was what drove addicts—they were constantly chasing their first high. Only to discover they could never quite reach it again.

  My lips found hers once more, and just like that, I became an addict.

  I had been standing in front of my full-length mirror, my head twisted so I could see how my backside looked, when a firm knock echoed off the walls of the hallway and reached my bedroom. I was never the kind of person to get nervous before a date, but for some reason, this felt like more than a date. And I practically sprinted to the door.