worry enter his eyes. “By myself,”
I added to appease his anxiety.
“Where are your
parents?” he asked, clearly relieved.
“My dad died, and my
mom took off soon after. I have an adorable brother, although he’d
hate that I just called him that. He is over at UC San Diego, it’s
his first year. So it’s my first year too, in a way. I don’t have
to be all parental every minute of the day. It’s strange not to
have so many responsibilities.”
“I’m sorry about
your father, and mother for that matter. What happened?”
I told him the whole
story, about my father’s sudden death and then the depressing
unraveling of my mom. He nodded as he listened, a frown tugging at
his lips—I could tell he was really focusing on my story and seemed
to really understand. I hadn’t told anyone about this in ages and
it felt good. Even though I had only just met him, something stirred
inside me when I told him my story—like I could trust him, like he
deserved to know everything about me.
But what if my past was
too depressing for a first date? I didn’t want to come off as
Debbie Downer. It was just that he was so inquisitive and so sweet
with his questions, that I found myself saying much more than I was
used to. I don’t think I’d ever been so forthcoming about my
past. And there was something in his eyes that told me that he too
had a hard past. He didn’t bring it up, and I didn’t push it, but
he got what I was saying in a way that would only be possible for
someone who’d been there too.
“I’m sorry for
bringing the mood down.” I looked away, a bit embarrassed for
telling him so much.
“No, please. You
didn’t. I know exactly what you mean about being used to duties.
Well maybe not exactly—I don’t have a brother—but I feel that
way when I’m not working on a big project,” he said. “I don’t
like idle time. I’m not sure what I should be doing with myself.”
He laughed. “Of course nothing can compare to taking care of
another human being, but that absence of responsibility was what I
meant.” He looked uncomfortable, like he’d said something wrong.
I didn’t think he had. A pensive look crossed over his face, and
then disappeared. There was definitely something else he wanted to
say about himself, but then thought better of it. “So I mostly just
think of new projects to work on.” His eyes found mine.
“Am I the new
project?” I asked suggestively.
“Do you want to be?”
I bit my lower lip. I’d
never been so sassy, but damn it felt good. “What would it entail?”
He closed the space
between us, and put his finger to my mouth, gently tracing my lips.
“How about this?”
he asked, taking my face in his powerful hands and kissing me. I
melted into him, my lips tingling with excitement. He had that end of
day stubble on his cheeks, and the hair gently tickled my face.
He pulled away, his
eyes studying me. “Or this?” He lowered me onto the blanket,
leaning down to meet my lips again. All I could do was whisper, “Uh
huh,” as he ran his fingers again over my lips and down my neck to
where my shirt fell open.
With his other hand he
began gently stroking my thigh while looking into my face. His
fingers felt electric against me, even with the thick denim between
us. I wished I wasn’t wearing jeans so I could feel his skin on
mine.
“God, your
beautiful,” he murmured. I smiled up at him. This—the picnic on
the beach, the kissing in complete public—was so not like me. And I
loved it. What had I been doing all my life?
He laid down beside me
and I moved to turn towards him. “No, stay there,” he ordered as
he began to slowly graze my breasts with his hand. My nipples were
instantly hard, and as he teased them, he kissed the side of my neck.
If I didn’t stop this
soon, I was going to come right there on the beach. There weren’t
that many people out at this time of night, but still, I wasn’t
sure I wanted it to happen so publicly. But there was
I added to appease his anxiety.
“Where are your
parents?” he asked, clearly relieved.
“My dad died, and my
mom took off soon after. I have an adorable brother, although he’d
hate that I just called him that. He is over at UC San Diego, it’s
his first year. So it’s my first year too, in a way. I don’t have
to be all parental every minute of the day. It’s strange not to
have so many responsibilities.”
“I’m sorry about
your father, and mother for that matter. What happened?”
I told him the whole
story, about my father’s sudden death and then the depressing
unraveling of my mom. He nodded as he listened, a frown tugging at
his lips—I could tell he was really focusing on my story and seemed
to really understand. I hadn’t told anyone about this in ages and
it felt good. Even though I had only just met him, something stirred
inside me when I told him my story—like I could trust him, like he
deserved to know everything about me.
But what if my past was
too depressing for a first date? I didn’t want to come off as
Debbie Downer. It was just that he was so inquisitive and so sweet
with his questions, that I found myself saying much more than I was
used to. I don’t think I’d ever been so forthcoming about my
past. And there was something in his eyes that told me that he too
had a hard past. He didn’t bring it up, and I didn’t push it, but
he got what I was saying in a way that would only be possible for
someone who’d been there too.
“I’m sorry for
bringing the mood down.” I looked away, a bit embarrassed for
telling him so much.
“No, please. You
didn’t. I know exactly what you mean about being used to duties.
Well maybe not exactly—I don’t have a brother—but I feel that
way when I’m not working on a big project,” he said. “I don’t
like idle time. I’m not sure what I should be doing with myself.”
He laughed. “Of course nothing can compare to taking care of
another human being, but that absence of responsibility was what I
meant.” He looked uncomfortable, like he’d said something wrong.
I didn’t think he had. A pensive look crossed over his face, and
then disappeared. There was definitely something else he wanted to
say about himself, but then thought better of it. “So I mostly just
think of new projects to work on.” His eyes found mine.
“Am I the new
project?” I asked suggestively.
“Do you want to be?”
I bit my lower lip. I’d
never been so sassy, but damn it felt good. “What would it entail?”
He closed the space
between us, and put his finger to my mouth, gently tracing my lips.
“How about this?”
he asked, taking my face in his powerful hands and kissing me. I
melted into him, my lips tingling with excitement. He had that end of
day stubble on his cheeks, and the hair gently tickled my face.
He pulled away, his
eyes studying me. “Or this?” He lowered me onto the blanket,
leaning down to meet my lips again. All I could do was whisper, “Uh
huh,” as he ran his fingers again over my lips and down my neck to
where my shirt fell open.
With his other hand he
began gently stroking my thigh while looking into my face. His
fingers felt electric against me, even with the thick denim between
us. I wished I wasn’t wearing jeans so I could feel his skin on
mine.
“God, your
beautiful,” he murmured. I smiled up at him. This—the picnic on
the beach, the kissing in complete public—was so not like me. And I
loved it. What had I been doing all my life?
He laid down beside me
and I moved to turn towards him. “No, stay there,” he ordered as
he began to slowly graze my breasts with his hand. My nipples were
instantly hard, and as he teased them, he kissed the side of my neck.
If I didn’t stop this
soon, I was going to come right there on the beach. There weren’t
that many people out at this time of night, but still, I wasn’t
sure I wanted it to happen so publicly. But there was
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