Read Online Love Nouveau by B.L. Berry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: B.L. Berry
Tags: Love Nouveau
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marshmallow fluff sandwich with the crust cut off. “If it’s not up to your caliber, we can blow this place off and find a restaurant. But I’ll warn you, reservations are tough to come by since it’s graduation weekend.”
I look at the sandwich in my hands and can’t believe how absolutely perfect this moment is. I haven’t tasted a fluffanutter sandwich since I was a little girl. The sentiment he evokes from me is indescribable.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t get a dinner like this anywhere downtown,” I reply with a coquettish grin.
He pops open two sodas and pulls out a bag of pretzels, some cheese, and a pair of gourmet cupcakes from my favorite local bakery. My stomach relaxes at the realization that he left the alcohol at home.
We eat our sandwiches in comfortable silence. I find myself subconsciously mirroring his movements. Taking a bite when he does. Following his lead as he drinks his soda. It’s hard to believe that I just met him the other night. Having him here next to me feels as natural as breathing. The way my body is in sync with his makes me feel like I’ve known him for years, as if our souls are connected.
As I savor the last of the sandwich he made, my mind drifts off to thoughts of Thursday night. What if we didn’t go to that house party? What if I had blown him off, or worse, thrown myself at Sully?
Sitting here in his presence makes me want to be a better person. It’s easy to let the past be done and focus on what is right in front of me this very moment.
Twilight is upon us and the air is starting to chill as the sky fades from blue to purple to pink and red then orange before settling on black spotted with flecks of glitter. The stars twinkle, making their presence known on this cloudless night.
We make small talk as we finish our food and a slight shiver runs down my spine. I realize that there is nothing sexier than a good conversation. His words alone are enough to disarm me. After putting the remainder of the cheese back in the picnic basket, Phoenix takes the blanket and wraps it around me, letting his hand linger around my back.
I pick at my cupcake, amazed that of the dozens of flavors he managed to buy my favorite one—chocolate sea-salted caramel. Our eyes meet and he reaches over, picking a small piece off the side of my lips.
“Lucky crumb,” Phoenix says, putting it in his mouth. He looks up into the sky, his eyes full of wonder. “That’s some serious moonlight.”
I smile and turn my gaze toward the sky. His David Bowie reference is not lost on me.
“If you could go back to any age, how old would you want to be?”
What a peculiar question to be asked. Most of the time my parents treat me as if I’m a ten year old in a twenty-something’s wardrobe. Not because I’m immature, but I think because I was far more impressionable and easily put into line.
“I think I’d want to be fourteen again. Fourteen was a very good year. Things were much simpler and the toughest choices I had to make were what to wear to school any given day. My folks weren’t such assholes back then, and there were no exes or complicated adult relationships to navigate. No games, either. If you had a crush on someone, it was easy. You’d just pass a note in math class asking ‘Do you like me? Check yes, no, or maybe’. If they checked yes, or even maybe, then you were automatically a couple.”
He chuckles, presumably recalling his own prepubescent memory.
“What about you?”
“I think I’d be eight. I wanted to be a superhero when I grew up. Fly in and save the damsel in distress. Be someone’s knight in shining armor. Life was a lot less …dramatic back then. Sometimes being naïve is a blessing.”
The way he says it is almost heartbreaking, and I want to ask him what happened, but he stands and walks toward the telescope on the other end of the dome, effectively ending this portion of our conversation. When he looks back, he catches me checking out his
I look at the sandwich in my hands and can’t believe how absolutely perfect this moment is. I haven’t tasted a fluffanutter sandwich since I was a little girl. The sentiment he evokes from me is indescribable.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t get a dinner like this anywhere downtown,” I reply with a coquettish grin.
He pops open two sodas and pulls out a bag of pretzels, some cheese, and a pair of gourmet cupcakes from my favorite local bakery. My stomach relaxes at the realization that he left the alcohol at home.
We eat our sandwiches in comfortable silence. I find myself subconsciously mirroring his movements. Taking a bite when he does. Following his lead as he drinks his soda. It’s hard to believe that I just met him the other night. Having him here next to me feels as natural as breathing. The way my body is in sync with his makes me feel like I’ve known him for years, as if our souls are connected.
As I savor the last of the sandwich he made, my mind drifts off to thoughts of Thursday night. What if we didn’t go to that house party? What if I had blown him off, or worse, thrown myself at Sully?
Sitting here in his presence makes me want to be a better person. It’s easy to let the past be done and focus on what is right in front of me this very moment.
Twilight is upon us and the air is starting to chill as the sky fades from blue to purple to pink and red then orange before settling on black spotted with flecks of glitter. The stars twinkle, making their presence known on this cloudless night.
We make small talk as we finish our food and a slight shiver runs down my spine. I realize that there is nothing sexier than a good conversation. His words alone are enough to disarm me. After putting the remainder of the cheese back in the picnic basket, Phoenix takes the blanket and wraps it around me, letting his hand linger around my back.
I pick at my cupcake, amazed that of the dozens of flavors he managed to buy my favorite one—chocolate sea-salted caramel. Our eyes meet and he reaches over, picking a small piece off the side of my lips.
“Lucky crumb,” Phoenix says, putting it in his mouth. He looks up into the sky, his eyes full of wonder. “That’s some serious moonlight.”
I smile and turn my gaze toward the sky. His David Bowie reference is not lost on me.
“If you could go back to any age, how old would you want to be?”
What a peculiar question to be asked. Most of the time my parents treat me as if I’m a ten year old in a twenty-something’s wardrobe. Not because I’m immature, but I think because I was far more impressionable and easily put into line.
“I think I’d want to be fourteen again. Fourteen was a very good year. Things were much simpler and the toughest choices I had to make were what to wear to school any given day. My folks weren’t such assholes back then, and there were no exes or complicated adult relationships to navigate. No games, either. If you had a crush on someone, it was easy. You’d just pass a note in math class asking ‘Do you like me? Check yes, no, or maybe’. If they checked yes, or even maybe, then you were automatically a couple.”
He chuckles, presumably recalling his own prepubescent memory.
“What about you?”
“I think I’d be eight. I wanted to be a superhero when I grew up. Fly in and save the damsel in distress. Be someone’s knight in shining armor. Life was a lot less …dramatic back then. Sometimes being naïve is a blessing.”
The way he says it is almost heartbreaking, and I want to ask him what happened, but he stands and walks toward the telescope on the other end of the dome, effectively ending this portion of our conversation. When he looks back, he catches me checking out his
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