“It’s just chicken with prosciutto and tomatoes over polenta,” he replied.
I was tempted to point out that he had said just before that description.
“What kind of first date would hamburgers and Animal Planet be?”
I shrugged. “You’ve just done so much today—”
“Good, you?
??ll always remember how amazing I am.” He winked.
There’s that ego. Saying nothing, I took a bite. I kind of wished it didn’t taste as delicious as it did. I could feel him staring at me, waiting. Chewing slowly, I reached for the glass of wine.
“You are trying so hard not to compliment me right now, aren’t you?”
“I really am. It’s so good.” I caved, cutting into more of it.
Eli
Because I’d cooked, she refused to let me help clean up. Instead, she made me sit where she had at the counter, placing the gloves on her hands and getting to work.
“Guinevere, it’s fine—”
“I had a really amazing night. You wouldn't let me do anything, so please at least let me clean up.”
Raising my hands in defeat, I sat back down, noticing the book that hung out of her bag. “What are you reading?” I asked.
“A collection of poems by W. H. Auden.” She scrubbed.
“May I?” I asked, already reaching for it.
She nodded.
Taking the book out, I flipped to the page she had dog-eared. I noticed how worn the spine was, to the point that if I closed the book, it would still open right back to this page. She must really love it. Smirking to myself, I cleared my throat, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her look up at me. I read, my voice barely over a whisper.
“And down by the brimming river I heard a lover sing under an arch of the railway: Love has no ending. I’ll love you, dear…I’ll love you till China and Africa meet, and the river jumps over the mountain, and the salmon sing in the street, I’ll love you…till the ocean is folded and hung up to dry and the seven stars go squawking like geese about the sky…”
Even with all my dramatic pauses, it took only two minutes to read. When I looked back up at her, she had stopped doing the dishes. Her brown eyes were warmer than ever before, and the corner of her lip turned up slightly.
“You win.”
“What?”
“This date. It’s officially the best one of my whole life. You win. I admit that you, Eli Philip Davenport, are remarkable,” she whispered before looking back down to scrub away at my plates.
I walked over and came up behind her, grabbing her hands. I pulled off the gloves myself and she didn’t stop me. She had long since taken off her jacket, forcing me to stare at her shoulders and chest all night long. Brushing her hair over, I kissed the base of her neck, sliding the straps of her dress and bra off her shoulder. Her dress fell to the floor with ease, the bra still cupped to her chest.
“Come to bed.”
Chapter Eighteen
Miracles and Tragedies
Guinevere
It had been a week since our first official date, and I still couldn’t get it out of my head. Whatever he’d wanted from me that night, he could have gotten, but instead we only made out. Yes, it got…passionate, and lust poured off us both in waves, but we just had stripped down to nothing but our underwear and kissed each other. There were times where we talked about random things, like his childhood home and things he enjoyed doing—apparently he really enjoyed swimming, too. We talked until I fell asleep with his arms around me. His reason for not sleeping with me was simple: it was our first date. He said you don’t sleep with the girl on the first date…at least, that's how it worked for him. People often say that dating is a game, and if it was, Eli had mastered it to an art form. It was funny though, at least to me: the fact that we didn’t sleep together made the night all the more memorable.
“Dr. Davenport, please do the surgery.”